At the outset of this past decennary I began my university career in the ever addictive major of International Development. After finishing an undergraduate degree in ID and Psychology, and now nearing the end of my master's in Social Work I'm finally coming home!! The last class of my Social Work degree is an elective in cultural and historical analysis, back on the same campus and even the same building in which I took my first International Development class. My graduate experience couldn't have ended better than this. :)
Showing posts with label Culture. Show all posts
After twenty plus years of investment in political activism on the part of evangelical Christians, there is a new awareness that the dynamics of cultural renewal differ radically from political mobilization. Even political insiders recognize that years of political effort have generated little cultural benefit. American culture continues its precipitous decline into hedonistic consumer nihilism. Father Richard Neuhaus wrote in the April 2007 issue of First Things, “At the risk of generalization, I think it fair to say that Christianity in America is not challenging the ‘habits of the heart’ and ‘habits of mind’ that dominate American culture, meaning both the so-called high culture and the popular culture.”
...Politics reflects culture; it doesn’t direct it.
For the complete article by John Seel click title of this post.
“I do not believe one can settle how much we ought to give. I am afraid the only safe rule is to give more than we can spare. In other words, if our expenditure on comforts, luxuries, amusements, etc., is up to the standard common among those with the same income as our own, we are probably giving away too little. If our charities do not at all pinch or hamper us, I should say they are too small. There ought to be things we should like to do and cannot do because our charitable expenditures excludes them.” — C.S. Lewis (1898-1963), English author and scholar
My family's disability and unemployment dilemma has forced perpetual growing pains on us over the last three years, and the growth spurt seems to be going strong. The first year challenged my parents to come to accept that mental illness had indeed changed our lives forever. After much struggle they came to accept that unemployment would be be an indefinite reality in Dad's life. Meanwhile, my brother made the decision to sacrifice his own immediate goals in order to financially support my family. All four of us were faced with heavier stress than we had ever experienced, and began the long hard road through depression, fear, conflict, anger, grief, and illness - learning stress-management the hard way.
The second year brought into focus our family's fear of reaching out for help, even to friends and other family members. Our path took us to the verge of emotional breakdown before that line was finally crossed. I'm still scratching my head over it, actually, wondering why anyone in our situation wouldn't immediately seek support from family and friends! Maybe the problem has been passed down to us through our heritage: Families with a Mennonite background come from a tradition of hardship and hard work, and therefore might resist asking for help within family, friends, and church groups because it could be perceived as challenging tradition; it may lead people to allow pride or shame (or both) to prevent them from seeking tangible assistance. Or perhaps the problem is rooted in our political hang-ups: While there is a contingent of Mennonites across North America who espouse social justice ideals, there is also a contingent espousing economically conservative views who are vocal in their distaste for individuals or families who require any kind of social assistance, both formal and informal. This may prevent those in need from asking for help because they fear the ways in which they might be perceived or stigmatized as being lazy, abusers of the system, moochers, or thieves. A third possibility may be a distorted understanding of ‘humility’ and 'self-sacrifice' within our belief system that prevents those in need from asking for help, even in times of mounting distress. People may experience guilt from the act of help-seeking, believing that they must ignore their problems in order to help others. Well, whatever the reason, it's a problem that my family finally overcame last year, albeit painfully and under a heavy sense of defeat and failure. The road to accepting our current situation with grace has been a gradual one.
We are currently in Year Three, and our challenge this year has been to distinguish "need" from "want". We've sifted through our so-called needs, we've sacrificed, we've re-prioritized the usual commodities and self-indulgences that define the Western lifestyle, and we've learned to live on less. Even for a lower-middle class family such as ourselves there are things we can and will give up that will help those who live in extreme poverty. My brother and I have been especially challenged to re-evaluate Scripture's teaching on the lifestyle of charity and giving. We have a more intimate grasp of C.S. Lewis' statement above, that "If our charities do not at all pinch or hamper us, (...) they are too small. There ought to be things we should like to do and cannot do because our charitable expenditures excludes them." How terribly counter-culture that sounds, what a distinctly inconvenient, imbalanced, and extreme statement - not unlike Jesus' incitive teachings on love and sacrifice. ;) Lewis' conviction rings true in us regardless of how long or how deeply we may have bought into our culture's ideology of self-indulgence, because our conscience has always known the right and only way to love our neighbour. There's life in the pinch, especially if we choose to live without the extras so that others can have the basics to stay alive.
So, it looks like year three promises to bring another series of difficult, life-changing lessons. I think I'm looking forward to it.
Philippians 2:3b-4: "consider others as more important than yourselves. Everyone should look out not [only] for his own interests, but also for the interests of others."
Sometimes it feels as though a good 90% of our family and church communities are like the partiers inside this house: Engaged, included, comfortable, lighthearted and carefree. Because of my parents' financial and health situation, however, my immediate family cannot join in the festivities. Feeling somewhat isolated and lonely, we struggle through our challenges outside as we try not to peek through the window too often for fear that our feeble excuses for their distance and separation will begin to fracture, crumble, and crush our hearts in the process. Somewhere around 10% of those in our extended family and church communities take the time visit us outside, spend time with us, and shoulder our burdens with us now and then. Some of them actually connect with us on a regular basis and contribute quite a bit to our survival and well-being. The other 90% do know that we're out here; it's just that they don't have enough of a desire to come and see how we are doing, to shoulder our burdens with us, to find a way for us to join them...
I've recently been working on a paper for school about emotional, practical, and material support that is experienced by different ethnic groups from their extended family and church communities. One article outlines the experience of the African American community:
Historically, families and churches promoted and sustained Black community life, both during and following the period of slavery. (...) Currently, both families and churches perform a number of important functions that help to address several problematic issues facing Black families and communities. Family and church networks provide informal social support to address a variety of issues, including chronic poverty (Stack, 1974), coping with the loss of a loved one, providing assistance to those who are ill and disabled (Dilworth-Anderson, 1994; Dilworth-Anderson, Williams, & Cooper, 1999), the care and supervision of grandchildren (Burton, 1992; Burton, Dilworth-Anderson, & Merriwether-de Vries, 1995; Kivett, 1993; Minkler & Roe, 1993; Strom & Strom, 1993), and specifically, caring for the children of adolescent parents (Miller, 1994; Unger & Cooley, 1992).
Source: Chatters, L. M. et al. (2002). Patters of informal support from family and church members among African Americans. Journal of Black Studies, 33 (1), p. 66-85.
There are other ethnic communities out there that are very similar to the African American one when it comes to giving and receiving support within church and family circles. Mediterranean cultures are very similar in the way family and church combine to support one another in times of need - Greek and Italian cultures come to mind as an example. The culture of the American South seems to be similar. In the same way, Amish and Old Order Mennonite communities rally around each other through church and family networks. Chinese and other Asian cultures are usually more community-oriented as well. The main strength of these societies is that they seem to rally around each other without question - not just with the odd piece of advice, but with a true dedication to help each other through, or out of, any kind of challenging situation, whatever the cost. It's the kind of support that takes time, personal resources, energy, emotion, sacrifice, and hard work.
Other areas of the world seem to be far more individualistic and isolated from one another. Northern Europe as well as much of Canada and the northern US, for instance, have always struck me as colder places, not in terms of temperature, but in terms of extended families' and church members' relationships with one another. There's some kind of overzealous, self-destructive need for privacy, the kind that shields others out in times of distress, whether you're on the potential giving- or receiving-end of the needed help.
I've gone through some major moments of pain in the past, during which time I felt as though I was terribly alone, whether I was hanging out with my extended family or sitting in church on a Sunday morning. I have to admit that on more than one occasion I've considered submerging myself in one of the 'warmer' cultures that I've often envied. It isn't that I just want to feel like I'm surrounded by open, compassionate people who are willing to go the second mile with me; I want to learn how to take up that lifestyle myself as well. I want to see what it looks like to do away with timidity and self-indulgence, to live a lifestyle of giving, caring, and always 'being there' for people in my church and family community.
One European-heritage woman shared about the close connections in her family. An extended family member had a permanent disability, and - without thinking twice - she offered to care for this family member when the current caretakers became too old and weak for the task themselves. Everybody in her family does things like this for each other, she said, and she has felt shocked to learn of other families aren't nearly as close as hers.
When I heard her story I couldn't help but think of my Dad. What if something were to happen to Mom, my husband, my brother, or to me... I wish I could say with confidence that our church and extended family networks would be just as willing to care for my Dad the way the woman above is willing to care for her cousin. But I can't. A handful would try to help, definitely, but the majority would make sure they put enough distance between themselves and my family's need in order to protect their lifestyle from unnecessary disruption.
Mom's health is fragile, always has been, but she's caring for Dad 24/7 and the circles under her eyes are sinking deeper every day. The roller-coaster of stress, anxiety, restless nights, and depression that we all go through here is more than enough proof that we can't do this on our own. Yet for the most part we are doing this on our own. To be sure, there is certainly a solid handful of people (that committed 10%) who make their love and concern known to us in ways that make a huge difference - but in the larger context of our church and extended family networks the silence from everybody else is deafening. ...Sadly we do not come from a background like the African Americans, the Mediterraneans, the Amish/Old Order Mennonites, or the Asians.
What we could really use is people - family, church members, anybody - to come over, help us cook and clean, and encourage to Mom get to bed on time. We need people to sit down with Dad to help him learn the simple things that dementia has wiped from his mind, such as how to open and use his email account (because that's something Mom ends up spending several hours on each week), how to work the VCR, or how to otherwise re-sharpen his observational and memorizing skills. We could use friends to watch movies with us, visit with us, call us more often to ask how we're doing, help us all laugh more often, help us get a break from the situation, and let us know that we don't need to feel isolated anymore. We could also use financial help so that we don't sink further into debt while we wait for Dad's pension disability application to be approved, and while we wait for my husband to receive his open work permit so that I can finish school and get a real job as soon as possible.
What we could really use is a more authentic relationship with our church and family, the kind that doesn't gloss over or shy away from the ugliness and despair that life sometimes throws at us, the kind that doesn't bury its head in the sand, doesn't put on airs or wear a mask, but a real kind of relationship that isn't afraid to roll up its sleeves and put a hand to this plough that is too difficult for us to push on our own.
Our household has begun the "We Shall Yet Triumph Cable Countdown", aka the "Boob Tube Wake": In December we cancelled our basic cable package; the cable company gave us three months of free cable in case we wanted to change our minds (as if it were that easy). As of today we have 29 days left with free basic cable channels. When the clock strikes twelve on March 24th any filmed entertainment we catch will be brought to us by our home VHS/DVD collection, YouTube, CBC Newsworld online, BitTorrent, the local public library's VHS/DVD free rental section, the local public library's free Saturday afternoon matinées, other websites that are kind enough to post video clips (what would we do without the internet, eh?), and of course our trusty-dusty set of rabbit ears.
So now that cable's death knell has rung, it's beginning to sink in and I'm already seeing life from a new perspective. To tell the truth I think our culture has gotten us all addicted to visual entertainment. How many of us would go NUTS if we were stuck in a house for any length of time without television? Would we know what to do with ourselves? Think about it: No evening news, no documentaries or live sports. Forget the rental movies, Saturday morning cartoons, reality shows and game shows, not to mention the edge-of-your-seat dramas and cheesy teenage sitcoms... not that I watch cheesy teenage sitcoms; I don't. But that isn't the point. The point is we'd probably go dotty and stick our head in a microwave, or go totally stone age and pick up a book or take up a hobby like gardening, weight-lifting, or chess. We might even go beyond imbalanced and volunteer in our community. Heavens to Murgatroid!
Here's a question for you: If you had to give up either television or the internet, which would you choose?
I've jumped into a discussion with my fellow Facebook-ers... Facebook-ians... Facebook-sters... whatever we're called - in a group calling itself "Christians for Social Justice". I had mentioned the need for social justice within the field of Social Work, after which someone else also pointed out the need for social justice within the Church. He mentioned the Church's habit of emphasizing God's judgement of sexual sins, while a complete reading of the New Testament seemed to emphasize issues of poverty, oppression, and justice instead. My thoughts on the matter seemed to combine well as a blog post, so here it is. I look forward to hearing your thoughts:
I have also witnessed this kind of judging and stereotyping of people who commit 'hot button' (i.e. sexual) sins, while other sins within the Church are either winked at or just ignored, such as materialism, hoarding, pride, gossip, vanity, self-centredness, and recklessly wasting our wealth rather than sharing our resources to alleviate the desperate poverty that begs for compassion day in and day out around the world. It's clear that we need social justice in our churches as much as we do in the secular field of Social Work.
It frustrates me to no end when often times conservative Christians interpret anything 'social justice' as mere 'liberal propaganda' which is to be discounted and even scoffed at rather than trying to understand social justice from a Biblical perspective. North American political paradigms are imposed on Scripture, which ends up twisting and deforming Christ's teachings in the Gospels. "We can't talk about helping the poor - that would be too liberal. Didn't Jesus say that God helps those who help themselves?" No, Jesus didn't preach North American conservative capitalist Christianity - he preached a Truth about poverty, corruption, and oppression that transcends earthly politics. So why don't more Christians recognize what's going on? Are we too pitiful and self-serving to apply a little critical thought to how our lifestyle fails to line up with Scripture?
Meanwhile, in the secular world of Social Work everything Christian or 'religious' is interpreted as 'conservative propaganda' which is also to be discounted or scoffed at. I came to Social Work hoping to find a group of people who collectively value equality and respect, and stand against discrimination of any kind. Instead, I've run into one instance after another in which politically correct issues are supported over and over again while un-trendy issues are entirely ignored. I'm told that at my school Christians are the target of discriminatory remarks on the basis of their faith, and that Christians have reported discriminatory course material that stereotypes and vilifies their faith.
I experienced this personally when a video was shown in one of my classes that completely lambasted Christians because of their beliefs on homosexuality. Granted, this is a point of conflict with several religions with similar beliefs about homosexuality, and my problem isn't with the existence of this conflict of beliefs. My problem was with the extremely insulting, stereotyping, and oppressive way that the video portrayed all Christians, and that this was being promoted in a Master of Social Work classroom. I raised this point in a follow-up discussion in class, saying that social workers ought to take a stand against discrimination and oppression targeted toward EVERYONE. I stated that as social workers we ought to fight discrimination in peaceful ways rather than discriminatory ways. Otherwise, why are we in school for social justice at all, if we're doing nothing more than dishing out kindness here and oppression there, depending entirely on our whims and personal agendas? One girl argued against me, stating that this insulting treatment of Christians was a positive kind of therapy for the homosexual community. The rest of the class remained silent, including the professor. I received absolutely no support except from one woman who quietly patted me on the back and whispered "Well said," after the discussion had ended. So, rather than genuinely working toward a model of community that is based on inclusiveness, unity in diversity, and shared strengths and goals, those in Social Work who scream and yell about discrimination and oppression end up discriminating against and oppressing Christians as well as anyone else who's opinion is significantly different from their own.
My life's purpose seems to be speaking out about these inconsistencies in Christian groups as well as in secular Social Work settings. If I don't speak out about it all I think I'll implode, or self-destruct, or just go bananas.
At the same time, though, I constantly feel like I'm in the middle of a battlefield trying to talk sense into both sides, which can be a lonely and even dangerous place from time to time. You are not guaranteed any allies, nor are you safe from being attacked by either side. I wish I knew of people (current or historical figures) who've been in this position before - it would be helpful to know how they handled the antagonism, the accusations, the labelling they must have received, as I sometimes do, from parties in both camps.
"For Christians to say to one another 'have faith, and trust' without helping each other is nothing more than Western self-interested individualism thinly veiled in spiritual cliché."
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