Tag Archives: sexism

Dear NFL…

05 Monday Feb 2018

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Dear NFL, it’s so over.

You’ve had chance after chance to do the right thing in many circumstances, but the powers that be in your organization and teams continue to make choices that oppress people who are not hyper-masculine, straight white male.

Let’s begin with race.

It’s seems as though you are using bodies for your own profit.  And often, it’s the bodies of black males.  You use them for your own entertainment, like in the days of the gladiators in the arenas.  (How many have had repeated concussions and now have chronic traumatic encephalopathy?)  Yet when they have an opinion that diverts from your owners or viewers, then they magically do not get their contracts renewed.  Funny – their talent is greater than many players out there, but they aren’t playing.  Colin Kaepernick is a good-hearted soul that wants justice in our world.  He spends his resources building up other people.  And yet he’s the one who has been unofficially banned from playing for using his agency to make the world aware of police brutality.

Secondly, you also forget the women.

There’s the issue of the cheerleaders who get paid less than minimum wage and must spend their own resources to keep their looks in top shape.  (Two articles to read are here and here.  Additionally, I wrote a piece on this blog here.)

And football player-related arrests tend to be related to domestic violence and sexual assault.   The most frustrating thing about the response by the NFL is the minimal punishment (two to four game suspension like in the 2014 case of Ray Rice).  A player committing violence against his partner is only ousted for a couple of games; a player peacefully protesting police brutality gets ousted indefinitely.

Furthermore, when riches and partiers gather at a Super Bowl city, trafficking tends to increase.  Women and children are sold for a price for their bodies.  The cities do what they can to watch for signs of traffickers and victims; yet according to this 2017 article, the NFL is in denial that such events take place at their precious event each year.

And you’ve managed to brush aside openly gay football players.

Again we fall upon widespread hyper-masculinity when seeing that there has never been an openly gay active NFL player, and few have come out after retiring.  Michael Sam was drafted far into the draft and was eventually released – never mind his stellar NCAA record.

I’m sure that if you haven’t cared much about the other three groups, you’ve tried to ignore how you’ve played the intersections of race and gender.  And with this I’m talking about Janet.  (And since you are nasty, it’s Ms. Jackson to you, NFL.)  Two people were part of the act.  Ms. Jackson was publicly shamed and has been snubbed for many years.  Her partner in the 2014 act will be leading the halftime show.  She’s an African-American female.  He’s a white male.  There’s a pattern developing here…

And lastly, let’s think about wealth and your system, NFL.  When I go on Instagram, I will see a host of celebrities with their photos at the game.  I will also see a host of your friends taking selfies at their homes in front of the chicken wings.  It’s because the cost of a ticket is almost $3,000.  And the tickets went up 31% compared to last year.  All games can be expensive, but when the tickets are this expensive, a person would have to work 413 hours at minimum wage to buy a ticket.

It would be nice if a certain percentage of tickets would go at a fair price to the average American consumer.  But from my experience working at the Super Bowl hospitality village immediately before the 2001 game in Tampa, I saw how many corporate partners get tickets for the game, and how many get fed and provided libations in their own little tents inside the village right before the game.

NFL, you’ve managed to marginalize people of color, women, the LGBT community and working-class people.  So as you see it’s you, not me.   I avoided the entirety of your game and halftime show.  I wrote and watched a movie on television.  I still ate guacamole and chips, but instead of watching men of color used for their bodies and women on the sidelines objectified for a small fee, I chose to watch Kylie Jenner’s baby video instead.

(That’s right.  Kardashians over you, NFL.)

Regards,
Michelle

Lent Prayer Day 13 – A Prayer for Our Trauma Triggers

15 Wednesday Mar 2017

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God of the connections between yesterday and today…

The past lingers behind us closely like shadows- a sinister presence that we are never able to completely leave behind.

One word. One smell. One song, and we are ushered back into the cobweb-filled corners of our souls.

One conversation on the television. One article online, and we are transported to a place we never thought we would relive.

The words that beat her up reminds us of the words that pummeled our souls. The sharpness of images are razors to our minds.

Now that we are stuck in a yesterday place, God, drive us back to today.

Grasp our hands as we work together to close the doors that have remained opened for decades. Be like cool waters and wash over our bruised souls to renew us.

Grant that today is reserved for today only- with just bits of room set aside for happy snapshots of the past and tomorrow’s dreams. Amen.

Today, I Persisted

08 Wednesday Mar 2017

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img_7961About a month ago, in the midst of my horrific pain, I wrote most of this blog post.

Today, bits of the pain still linger, but I feel much better already. Yet reading this which I wrote when I felt so much less hopeless makes me realize how far I’ve come and reminds me of my persistence and resilience.

And so, on this International Women’s Day, I share with you.

At this point of my life, I needed to hear he word “persist” over and over and over again.

Thanks to the resilience of U.S. Senator Elizabeth Warren, words written by Corretta Scott King were brought alive again in order to protect our Union.

Of course, like most women even in the twenty-first century, we are shushed, told our opinion does not matter, or ignored altogether.

I try to acknowledge this over and over. But sometimes, I’m not privileged. Sometimes, I’m muddling through life with a belly full of ache and a energy system that is zapped. My skin color is privileged, but my insides ache and hold me back.

Once again, I’m struggling with endometriosis.

I’ve learned well how to push through the pain to achieve what I need to. But sometimes it’s just not enough to barely make it through to survive. I work, but I’m not fully living.

When I read all of the sexism and misogyny that’s happening in our country and world, and I see what friends have and do experience, it’s time to claim that we deserve more than the crumbs under the table. We deserve to have health and food and equality. We deserve for our voices to be heard.

And at a time when my pelvis aches and my aggravation increases daily with the dismissal and silencing of women, hearing the word “persistence” and the stories to go along with the word is refreshing.

We need to hear the stories of our sisters who worked for suffrage. We need not only to listen to the stories of our sisters of color, transgender sisters, and lesbian sister, but acknowledge the additional hurdles they have overcome. We need to tell each other our tales and not dismiss what another woman says because we haven’t experienced the same.

I needed the tenacity of Elizabeth Warren today. I need the enduring words of Corretta Scott King. I need to see Malala Yousafzai rising from her injuries and advocating for women all over the world. I still need to see the presence of Hillary in public and private because- even after all of the criticisms and losses, she still continues on. I need the stories of the women in Scripture who persisted: the Syrophoenician woman, the woman with the hemorrhage, Tamar, Vashti, Esther, and more. And I need to hear the stories of my endosisters who continue on one procedure to the next but never giving up.

The more we see women pushing and pushing beyond the boundaries of “no” and “maybe later” to “yes” and rising from the ashes of pain and failure and sexism, the faster we will heal in body, mind, and soul.

 

America’s Lot Moment

29 Tuesday Nov 2016

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I wrote this only a few days after the election.  This is how I felt – not only at the time – but continue to feel as I process what happened in our country.  This is how I feel every time I hear of another hate crime committed. 

 

I am a woman of privilege.  While I have some awareness of my racial, citizenship, and sexual orientation privilege, I am also still waking up to my privilege.  The results of the election came as a shock, and part of this shock is due to my privilege-related naiveté. 

This was written with much respect to all people who have been assaulted in any shape or form, not making light of assault, and also knowing that a piece of us felt violated on Election Day because the results affirmed the complacency with abuse.  Abuse has happened in many forms, and the Bible reflects that abuse as well.  Please be aware that this could be a TRIGGER WARNING for many people.

*****

“Look, I have two daughters who have not known a man: let me bring them out to you, and do to them as you please.” (Genesis 19:8)

I imagine most people feel disgust after reading this text and are shocked to know this is actually in our sacred Scripture.  Angels, in the form of two strangers, visit Lot in Sodom.  When the community heard about the visitors, they bang on Lot’s door and order him to send them outside so that they can know them intimately – – or, basically, rape the two men.

Lot refuses to accept their demands.  Instead, he offers them another option.  Here are my two virgin daughters.  Know the two of them intimately instead of our visitors.

Unfortunately, Lot’s daughters would not be enjoying the intimacy that comes when two people mutually give themselves to one another.  This would be a violent gang rape of two young women.  Based on the fury of this crowd, there is even a possibility the rape would have led to the death of one or both of the young women as we see in the similar story of Judges 19.

What appears in Genesis 19 does not seem like a story about Lot’s hospitality or creative problem solving. By offering his daughters, Lot still affirms the violent actions of a group of men. He does not give a second thought to sacrifice his daughters in the attempts to placate the Sodom community and to protect the rights of the privileged.

Up until a week ago, whenever I read this text, I could not fully imagine what the two daughters must feel.  How could someone who says they love you be fine with throwing you away with such haste? How could the one to whom you looked for protection be willing to throw you to the wolves knowing that you would be violently attacked?

And then the election of 2016 happened. Just like Lot’s problem-solving proposal, it felt like many Americans have offered up the lives of people of color, the bodies of women, the equality of LGBT people, the religious freedom of Muslims, the well-being of immigrants, and the dignity of people who are disabled.  In the process of trying to solve foreign and domestic issues, our neighbors chose to overlook love of neighbor and turn their heads so that racism, sexism, xenophobia and bigotry could grow stronger.

While some believe that the election results will eventually lead to positive results in our country, within the first week we saw the number of hate crimes grow.  Pictures of hateful words spray painted alongside of buildings and videos of students chanting slurs continue to become the new normal in 2016 America.

Couldn’t Lot have offered a more humane solution? Couldn’t we, as Americans and Christians be more compassionate and considerable in the way we solve our problems?

Some of our neighbors wonder why we still “can’t get over” the election results and its aftermath. Like Lot offering to throw his children to strangers in order to solve a problem, many people across our country feel like their neighbors were willing to toss them aside in an effort to build a country that could be to their satisfaction once again.

Knowing that many of us have been treated like Lot’s daughters has left us aching, worrying, and wondering what will happen next.

It feels like we must live under a new normal. We must live with the normality of women being physically assaulted.  We must live with a renewed interest in a type of “law and order” which will elevate the mass incarceration of our brothers and sisters of color.  We must know that families will be torn apart based on who was born in this country and who was born elsewhere.  We must know that Muslims fear for their lives as the country waits to see if a registry is forced upon them.   We must know that marriages of our gay, lesbian, and bisexual sisters and brothers are in jeopardy.

We may be Lot’s daughters in twenty-first century America, but we refuse to be thrown to the men of Sodom without a struggle.

Lot’s daughters found agency… and all who have been marginalized will find their power.

*****

Photo credit: Heinrich Aldegrever (1502-1561), Lot impedisce la violenza contro gli angeli, (1555).

 

For Such a Time as This…

13 Monday Jun 2016

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“For if you keep silence at such a time as this, relief and deliverance will rise for the Jews from another quarter, but you and your father’s family will perish. Who knows? Perhaps you have come to royal dignity for just such a time as this.’”

Esther 4:14

For such a time as this…

Sometimes we don’t want to shake our current placid state.  Everyone in our cozy corner of the world is (fairly) happy…

And then 50 people are killed and another 50 or so injured by a solo bigoted, biased, homophobic hate-filled shooter.  In our cozy corner of the world, we have the privilege to close our eyes, bask in the sun for the rest of the day and forget that tragic incident happened early yesterday morning in Orlando, Florida.

We dodge conversations on the discrimination that happens to our friends of color, the ugly words thrown at our LGBTQ friends, the catcalls and assaults and violence in homes that happens to our sisters, the ways that Muslims feel threatened just by living in this country.  We can point our fingers at everyone else that doesn’t look anything like us.  It’s their fault… It has to be… I’m just sitting on my cozy corner minding my own business.

But when the hateful rhetoric in our country is getting louder and louder and more people are dying and being abused because of their color, religion, sexual orientation, gender/gender identity/gender expression, then we as people of faith need to stop sitting in our cozy corners and get ourselves out into the world.

For such a time as this, we are called to listen to stories without judgment.

For such a time as this, we are called to open our mouths and speak out every single time we hear hate.

For such a time as this, we are called to be the voice of love in our world.

Esther could have sat in her cozy corner of the world.  She could have allowed her kin to be massacred.  Instead, she risked her own life to stand up for the lives and well being of others.

Are we willing to do the same?  Am I willing to do the same?

For such a time as this, are we willing to call out the voices of hate?  When hearing such hateful words against our sisters and brothers, are we willing to name such animosity?

Are we willing to say that our LGBT sisters and brothers are loved by God for who they are?

Are we willing to say that the lives of our sisters and brothers of color matter?

Are we willing to say that the bodies of our sisters are to be respected?

Are we willing to say that our Muslim sisters and brothers shine the light and love of God in our world and that the stereotypes are wrong?

Are we willing to say that our transgender friends are loved by God just as they are?

Are we willing to say all of these words aloud, risking our lives and livelihoods like Esther?

Will we use our privilege to listen, learn and speak to other people of privilege at such a time as this?

May the loving arms of God surround the survivors in Orlando as they heal in body, mind and soul.  May the peace of God surround the grieving family members and friends as they come to terms with the violence and hate that robbed them of their loved ones.  May the strength of God carry our LGBT, Latinx and Muslim friends as they navigate a world still so threatening.  And may God give all of us the courage to speak out against hate in our world.  Amen.

The Sin of Symbolism

03 Friday Jul 2015

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Program title page, Sixth Veiled Prophet Festival, 1883 produced by the Compton Litho Company via Wikimedia Commons

Confession: As a young adult living in the St. Louis area around 1992, I nixed the idea of changing the name of the fair held during the fourth of July weekend.  Growing up, the festival now called Fair St. Louis was always known as the VP Fair.  Why change the name, I wondered.  IT’S TRADITION!  I cared more about what we’ve always done and less about any symbolism and meaning behind the name VP Fair.

I didn’t realize VP meant more than just the letters V and P…

As time passed, I learned more about the Veiled Prophet Fair and all festivities connected to the twisted tradition.  During their yearly Veiled Prophet Ball, young adult women from prominent families “come out” to society, with the queen nestled next to a veiled prominent older (almost exclusively white) man from the St. Louis area.  When reading about the history of the Ball, one can see the Confederate roots associated with the pomp and pageantry.

In 2014, The Atlantic wrote an excellent piece on the traditions connected to the Veiled Prophet organization, adding to my education of a deeply rooted classist and racist traditions.  Searching more on the organization, I stumbled upon their website.  The Veiled Prophet organization stresses the philanthropic and service work done in their name.  And while, undoubtedly, the organization has done wonderful things for the St. Louis area, the organization is haunted by racist symbolism in every corner – from the parade to the highly exclusive ball.

Whether it was our yearly online reminder of these annual St. Louis festivities, stories of removal of the Confederate flag, or dialogues, marches, and votes on the names of the Cleveland baseball team and District of Columbia football team that we had at UCC General Synod this week, we are examining the potential sins of symbols.  Each of these traditional icons have a history in oppression.  While those who honor the symbols today do not necessarily support or promote a culture of bigotry, implicitly, we are all responsible for the pain they are causing minority groups.

Each of the symbols I’ve mentioned continue to hold up an empire where some people are valued over others.  The icons say that our history was fine just as it was, never mind that some people were considered less than made in God’s image.

This is more than just being “politically correct.”  (I find it interesting how people of privilege always fall back on the hardship of political correctness – as if taking away a beloved symbol is worse than taking away one’s life, physical and economic freedoms, and dignity.)  With black churches burning, black Christians being shot in their sanctuaries, and black women preachers physically being threatened, it’s time for us to all gather together to make sure all people have their dignity intact – whether they are a racial minority, ethnic minority – including our Native Americans, woman or other gender minority, LGBT person, religious minority, or person with a disability.  It’s time for all of us to examine each symbol to make sure that the icon isn’t robbing someone of their worth.  It’s time for us to prioritize people over shallow and destructive emblems, and it’s time for us to seek reconciliation for our narrow-mindedness rooted in tradition.

 

Today I Wear Black – Advent Reflection 14

18 Thursday Dec 2014

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imageInstead of the sparkly gold
Or sequenced green
Or metallic red sweaters
I wear black.

I wear black to remember the lives of
Michael and Tamir and Rumain and John and Eric
And so many other names we know
And don’t know.

I wear black to remember my sisters
Killed by their “loves” within their homes
Or on their way to work
Or any other space intimate violence happens.

I wear black to remember the sexual violence
In college dorm rooms
And young adult apartments
And cars
And parks
And through purchases
Because, apparently, people can still be bought and sold.

I wear black to remember all those who died in war-
Some wars less just than others.
And to defy the justification of torture.
And I wear black remembering the ones who came back
But parts of their bodies and souls were missing.

I wear black to remember those in Connecticut,
The classroom which buzzed with six-year-olds now silent
And how two years later peace is anything but silent.

I wear black to remember the ones who died this week
Or last week
And every single loved one who cries tonight
And on Christmas morning,
As they gaze upon the Christmas gifts that will remain unopened
Because a loved one is gone.

I wear black to remember the ones who mourn their relationship
A divorce.  A breakup.
A tear in the heart.
They live a new life, but old memories linger.

I wear black to remember those living in constant pain
Their bodies revolt against them.
It’s their necks, or backs, or knees or feet.
But the pain will never go away.

I wear black to remember those living their last Christmas
And those who “celebrate” with them,
Wondering how they can make this one special
Even after the terminal news.

I wear black to remember those who live in shadows
Who face the dread of depression
The shakes of anxiety
The roller coasters of bipolar
And each mental health challenge they may not mention aloud.

I wear black to remember those who are in the night of their lives-
A very long night-
Whose exile extends for days
And who will wander in the wilderness longer than expected.

Darkness is not darkness to God.
May our evenings be as bright as daytime.
May we find beauty in the nighttime of our souls
And in the areas void of light.

May we wear red metallic
And the green sequins
And sparkly gold sweaters
Next year.

Between the Mountaintop and the Promised Land

19 Sunday Jan 2014

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IMG_2820One of my favorite genre of movies and literature involves dystopian communities or worlds.  Wikipedia defines dystopia as

“a community or society that is in some important way undesirable or frightening. It is the opposite of a utopia. Such societies appear in many artistic works, particularly in stories set in a future. Dystopias are often characterized by dehumanization, totalitarian governments, environmental disaster, or other characteristics associated with a cataclysmic decline in society. Dystopian societies appear in many sub-genres of fiction and are often used to draw attention to real-world issues regarding society, environment, politics, economics, religion, psychology, ethics, science, and/or technology, which if unaddressed could potentially lead to such a dystopia-like condition.”

I personally love to watch them because, for me, they are a filter, a pair of special lenses which allows all of us to see the gaps in our world.  Dystopian movies are creepy yet challenging.  They force me to analyze where my social status would be in their world and how I can bridge the gaps of injustices.

Last week, I watched the dystopian movie Elysium.  Throughout the story, there are two distinct living places – earth and an orbiting home in space called Elysium.  For those who can afford it, Elysium is a place where the rich live far away from the poor, a place where any disease and most injuries can be healed by a machine.  The humans on earth struggle to stay healthy, and they do not have access to such machines.  The people and corporations on Elysium use the much poorer people on Elysium to make a profit.  The people on earth are kept in check and even treated in a much harsher justice system than on Elysium.

As I watched the movie Elysium I wondered: Would I be on Elysium or on earth?  What would happen if everyone on earth had the same privileges as the humans on Elysium?  What would happen if people on our earth had the same basic privileges?

Another dystopian tale is The Hunger Games trilogy, and some of us went to see The Hunger Games:Catching Fire film in December.  In this story, their country is divided into 12 districts plus the capitol.  The people who live in the Capitol are not required to enter the games; however, the games are entertainment for them.  They live in excess with flowing food, entertainment and drink.  Their clothing and makeup style is surreal while those in the districts live in poverty and must fight to stay alive.

The Hunger Games makes me wonder: Which district would I live in, or would I live in the Capitol?  What would happen if everyone in the districts earth had the same privileges as the humans at the Capitol?

In our society, we think we’re so far ahead of the curve but there are so many “isms” like racism and sexism that keep the playing field far from equal.  I’m still getting to know the racial climate of Cincinnati, so I’m going to speak to my experience in St. Louis.  The areas of north city and north county are predominantly African American while the areas of south county and west county are predominantly white with west county being wealthy white people.  White flight still happens.  People fear when others of another color move into their neighborhood.  Instead of getting to know their neighbors, they only see color.

East St. Louis, just across the Mississippi River from St. Louis, was known for the white flight back in the 60’s and 70’s.  When I’ve driven through parts of East St. Louis in the past few years, it feels like it’s another country – one ravished by war and poverty.

Furthermore, my friends at Eden Seminary felt uncomfortable going off of campus as people of color were often pulled over in Webster Groves.  Even Webster Groves had unofficial segregation: a predominantly white area and predominantly African American area.  As I am white, segregation and discrimination wasn’t something that I experienced, so all seemed fine from my position.  By my seminary friends sharing their experiences and their fears of simply stepping off campus, my eyes opened to the area’s dreadful reality.

As this is the remembrance of Martin Luther King Jr’s birthday, opportunities open up for us to reflect on racial justice issues.  I know this time of year gives me pause to ask myself how I could better stand up against unjust systems.  While I may not be intentionally a racist, I must still ask in what ways do my thoughts and life choices hurt people who are racial and ethnic minorities?  Are there things I could do to stand up against these unfair systems?  How are my sins of neglect and indifference hurting my neighbor with less privilege and the Body of Christ?

I thank God that in every generation, we have people who are willing to be prophets, to teach us how to better treat our neighbors.  They are willing to stand up to the unjust systems even to the point of death.  Of course, we have Jesus the Christ, the one who taught us how to love one another, how to risk when our surroundings are full of injustice and how to give dignity to the expendables in our society.

The prophets of the Hebrew Bible stood up for the poor, widows, orphans and aliens.  Throughout time, we’ve had people risk life and reputation to stand up for what they believe.  Recently, these modern prophets include Mahatma Ghandi, Dietrich Bonhoeffer and Martin Luther King, Jr. whose birthday we celebrate this weekend.

Granted, because of the leadership by people like Martin Luther King, Jr., official segregation washed away with the Civil Rights Act.  Separate water fountains and restaurant counters ceased.  Schools were integrated.

But there’s still unofficial segregation as we see when areas are predominantly inhabited by one color or another, or when the poor must choose between medication and food or when women make nearly 30% less than men when working, segregation still happens.

Yet the story is not over.  There is still hope, a hope that Jesus saw in his lifetime and a hope that King preached about right before he died.  King closes his final sermon by saying the following:

“Well, I don’t know what will happen now. We’ve got some difficult days ahead. But it doesn’t matter with me now. Because I’ve been to the mountaintop. And I don’t mind. Like anybody, I would like to live a long life. Longevity has its place. But I’m not concerned about that now. I just want to do God’s will. And He’s allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I’ve looked over. And I’ve seen the promised land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the promised land. And I’m happy, tonight. I’m not worried about anything. I’m not fearing any man. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord.”

Deuteronomy 34 is the text in which King’s speech is referring.  The day before he is assassinated, King gives this speech in support of sanitation workers who were striking in Memphis.  The end of the speech is haunting.  King is resonating with Moses at the end of Moses’ life.  Moses never makes it to the promised land, much like King

Instead, it’s Joshua who leads them to the promised land.

Just as King was like Moses, are we called to be like Joshua – leading people to the promised land?  Are we the ones called to be a true prophet and risk our lives to make sure all in our society have equality and dignity?

When I was thinking of a title, I originally decided to go with “Still on the Mountaintop.”  But I was wrong.  We’re so much farther than the mountaintop.  We’re miles past the mountaintop.  But we still have a ways to go to see a true new heaven and new earth, an actual promised land.  And when people will stop being abused or murdered because of their race, ethnicity, religion, gender and sexual orientation, then we’ve gotten to the promise land.  We will have created the Kingdom of God of which Jesus often spoke.

Let’s learn from our history – whether it’s the history of this country or the history of humanity.  Let’s even learn from these crazy fictional dystopian stories by realizing that some people will always try to suppress the rights of others.  Humans often feel like someone needs to lose in order for them to succeed.  Maybe if we try to help all people succeed we will find our own success.  As it says in Jeremiah 29:7 “But seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the Lord on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare.”

That’s the type of vision King had for us and that’s the type of vision Jesus had for all of God’s children.  There are no segregated neighborhoods.  People aren’t arrested or pulled over based on the color of their skin.

So here’s our challenge today – working together to usher in the new heaven and new earth that’s mentioned in Revelation 21.   We are called to usher in the promised land where all live together in love.  Let us seek the welfare for all of the Body of Christ.

Can you see this promised land?  We’re so close now… Close your eyes and listen to the Spirit of God inside of you… you will find it.

What Movies Gave, Oscars Took Away

26 Tuesday Feb 2013

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MH910216353Sunday’s Oscar performance was a spotlight shining on the differences between being marginalized and privileged.

Here are some of the ways Seth MacFarlane, the writers and producers of the Academy Awards distastefully chose to produce an evening intended to celebrate the accomplishments of artists.

People might say that MacFarlane was being an equal opportunity offender.  However, do we hear jokes at the expense of women as often as men?  Do we hear jokes from white people about white people as often as we hear them about racial minorities?  How about people who are Jewish, gay or overweight?  Are their lives joked about more about than people who are Christian, straight or thin?

The isms were solidly present within minutes of the broadcast.  MacFarlane performed a song about women being nude in movies.  He made a joke about a popular domestic violence relationship.  Then, over the course of the evening, he made jokes about women’s sizes and the way minorities talk (among other things, of course).

Abominable.

Sure that’s MacFarlane’s way, or at least that’s what people tried to tell me over and over.  I wondered why did the Academy choose to be represented by him?  Why did the producers of the show choose a person who will belittle people based on a number of various factors?

Again, as much as I love the Oscars, this year’s ceremony reflected greater issues in our culture.  For instance, when the media focuses on hair, makeup and wardrobe, we take the attention away from the reason that these artists are there: their brilliant accomplishments.  (Sure, we all love to dress our best, but criticisms do not have a place in dressing up to feel great.)

Throughout 2012, we’ve had some wonderful reminders that people of multiple races, ethnicities, genders, sexual orientations, looks and ages have such amazing talents.  We are reminded by these accomplishments and efforts that no matter who you are or what you look like, you are able to accomplish great things.  We had storylines that lifted the human spirit.  And, yet, the people holding these awards decide to hire a host and a team of writers.  It was this “creative” team who chose to demean those who were celebrated.

These movies and performances helped us in seeing God’s grace, God’s presence, God’s love and God’s image within ourselves.  Unfortunately, the ceremony to recognize gifts in film achievement was clouded by disrespect.  Sad.