A wake-up call

There’s a video clip going around my friendship corner of Facebook, of Ellen DeGeneres responding — movingly, pleadingly —  to the senseless death of Tyler Clementi, the Rutgers student who committed suicide after being “outed” as gay. Please watch it at the link above, if you haven’t already. (Sorry, I haven’t quite figured out how to add video to my blog.)

There’s nothing I could possibly add but Amen.

And yes, I know, I know…. many church groups, including my own, are still figuring out their “positions” on homosexuality. It could be argued that the debate itself contributes to an oppressive dynamic, but can we at least agree that whatever time that conversation takes gives us absolutely no excuse to put off a major overhaul of behaviour, or the urgency of teaching our children firm and unequivocal protocols of behaviour about difference? Being gay is not a crime — or a sin. Harassing, outing someone without their permission, bullying, is never — never! — okay. Figuring out who you are, as DeGeneres says, is hard enough (remember being a teen?) without the added cruelty of bullying — for any reason. And gay youth who wish to live with integrity, with authenticity, will eventually come to their own conclusions about how they do this. But it’s their timeline, no one else’s.

There are many other names and faces, other stories, that could be highlighted in reference to this “suicide epidemic,” people who attempt to escape for various reasons, but most certainly often because of the harassment.

William C. Trench has some pertinent words:

For years, those who oppose equal rights for gays and lesbians have said that they have nothing against the Tyler Clementi’s of the world, what they are against is “The Homosexual Agenda.” This tragic event brings that debate into sharp relief.

The “Homosexual Agenda” is precisely this: to create a society in which young men and women do not jump off of bridges in a desperate attempt to escape who they are, because society has told them in a thousand different ways that who they are is not acceptable.

We who are Christians must bear a special responsibility in this effort.

I hope you’ll also take the time to read Trench’s whole post here. I don’t have much more than Amen to add to it either. Except to wonder, in light of DeGeneres’ wake-up call, and Trench’s call for angels, whether we’re awake, and alert to our assignments.

Thin Air

Last week, which seems a long while ago already, was Thin Air week in Winnipeg. Thin Air is the city’s annual writers festival. I was honored to have a small part in the event, with a campus reading of This Hidden Thing, but mostly the week was about listening to and engaging with a great variety of other writers from across the country. As the event’s subtitle says, “it’s for readers.”

I took in four of the evening events, and two of the afternoon book chats. Here’s a few highlights.

From the festival opener, a line by Ismaila Alfa, traffic reporter for CBC Radio and poet/musician:

Long live the figures of speech before and after me.

Long live indeed, figures of speech!

Since I'm not much of a coffee drinker, my sleek Thin Air mug has top spot as pens and pencils holder.

The festival featured many wonderful writers and their books, and I hate to single some out, but… I enjoyed hearing Richard B. Wright (perhaps best known for his Clara Callan), whose new book is Mr. Shakespeare’s Bastard. Wright had some interesting things to say about how he works, including the comment that reading poetry unblocks him when he’s stuck, reinvigorates him. And, finding myself once again involved in the terror and joy of a new novel project, I certainly  resonated with what Wright said about that:

You’re sitting in a room talking to yourself — it’s almost a form of madness… You hope what you’re indulging in will be liked and indulged by others… [But] I seem to need another life. A writer needs this other imaginary world.

And the books I’d like to read because of the festival? Wright’s, yes, and also David Bergen’s latest, The Matter with Morris, which landed on the Giller prize long list as the week opened. Opening reviews have praised it and the passage Bergen read from it intrigued me. (Another festival author and Winnipegger who made the long list is Joan Thomas, but I’ve already read her Curiosity, so I’m up at least one!) I’m also looking forward to Sandra Birdsell’s new book, Waiting for Joe.

Every time I attend readings I realize again what a pleasure it is to listen to ideas and words crafted with care. Poetry, especially, shines when read aloud; the genre almost requires an oral presentation. Novels are trickier to judge from their performance, I think, because they turn and deepen on extended development. But the fragments we hear are an invitation, and we honor authors when we take them up on it.

Herculean effort (2)

If memory is the problem — carrying on from yesterday’s post — it may be the solution as well — the solution, I mean, to the dis-ease with the changes in our lives and their new temptations.

(I’m setting aside — for now, to focus on now — speculations about how younger and future generations may adapt, how “singlemindedness,” as Alan Jacobs puts it, will test and/or play out for them…)

The path I see may or may not be herculean, but is certainly connected to memory. It’s the path of sabbath-keeping. Nothing particularly original about this; it’s also a current conversation. (See, for example, this at Rumblings.) But it makes sense. Taking sabbath breaks, weekly or in bigger chunks in occasional “sabbaticals,” may be motivated for some of us by memory of pre-internet days, but these will then produce fresh memories of the experience of freedom.

How sabbath-keeping in relation to internet technologies might unfold in practice will surely vary from person to person. I’ve been inspired in my own (fumbling) attempts at it by Marva J. Dawn’s Keeping the Sabbath Wholly: ceasing, resting, embracing, feasting. (I come at sabbath from a spiritual perspective, but the work-rest rhythm is important, I think, whether a person is religious or not.)

It seems significant to me that the command about the sabbath is the only one of the ten with “remember” in it. Remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy… We take a break, shut down, turn off, read and connect in other ways, rest.

The space in which we turned out backs on strivings technological and internet-driven will be unique. We’ll remember the day, be strengthened to come back to that place again.

In the renewed practice of an old-fashioned habit like sabbath, we may be able to keep the memory of a kind of singlemindedness alive.