Mimesis... Acting... Becoming.

“All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages.”
~Shakespeare, As You Like It

“The individual “assimilates” himself or herself to the world via mimetic processes.  Mimesis 
makes it possible for individuals to step out of themselves, to draw the outer world into their 
inner world, and to lend expression to their interiority.” 
~Gebauer and Wulf.  Mimesis: Culture - Art - Society.  Don Reneau,
trad.  Berkeley: University of California Press, 1992.  2.

 

So, about three and a half weeks ago, my good friend Carey came to me with a part in her Shakespeare "café theater" show.  Due to unforeseen circumstances and scheduling issues, one of her actors would be unable to do a particular scene, and she wondered if I might be interested in playing the role of Helena in A Midsummer Night's Dream.  It didn't take me very long to make the decision.  YES!  

Little did I know what would have to take place in order to transform into Helena... I'm still not entirely sure a total transformation has taken place.  What I do know is that learning this part and rehearsing it all day last Saturday and Sunday were exhausting... in a good way.  Trying to become another person is, well, not easy.  And trying to do that in a context that demands a certain level of movement to keep the audience engaged and a certain clarity of voice and diction to make sense out of Shakespeare?  Well, it's pushed my limits, challenged me in ways I didn't expect.  I'm used to things coming easily, and this?  Not so easy.  During the dress rehearsal, we actually had to stop our scene.  We just had no idea where we were... granted, the dress rehearsal was in a different location, so we literally DIDN'T know where we were.  But still... it ended with me in tears and thinking--what have I gotten myself into?  If the scene goes like that on Friday, well, it just CAN'T!  People are paying to see this, and our scene closed the show. 

Needless to say, I was nervous when it came time to do the show last night.  The other actors had set the bar high, and I wanted to match them. (Seriously, this cast was AMAZING!  I love these people!)  There were 85 guests at the Ethnobar, and it was the first time we would be doing our scenes with people actually in the seats we would be jumping over.  And you know what??? WE DID IT!  The show went really well.  People have asked us if we will be doing repeat performances, and we're already doing it again in June at the Fringe Festival.  It's amazing how much progress you can make in such a short period of time, how much you can get to know your character and grow to trust the other members of your cast.  It's also strange how much of an out-of-body experience it is... all of a sudden, our scene and the whole show was over.  Back to real life again... weird. I also realized this was my first true acting experience in English.   My limited experience elsewhere has only been in French... Hector in La Guerre de Troie n'aura pas lieu and my improv group here.  I definitely want to keep doing theater in the future, any way I can.  There is nothing like it... because even as you are attempting to "become" another person, who you are is slowly becoming something else, too. 

(That last line reminds me of a character in our French play, a Russian theater expert, Vladimir P....sky, who says, "Le théâtre n'est pas... il devient."  True indeed.)

On Women...

Back on March 8, 2011, an idea for a new blogpost took root.  Women.  And more specifically,  challenges we face that are particular to our sex alone.  This isn't going to be a feminist rant per se (though I would say I'm a feminist), but I've been reading some things of late: The Millenium Series, Columbine, 3096 Days, to be exact, and had some encounters of my own that have gotten me thinking.

So first, a belated reflection on International Women's Day.  What does this day commemorate?  According to the official website, "International Women's Day (8 March) is a global day celebrating the economic, political and social achievements of women past, present and future... International Women's Day honours the work of the Suffragettes, celebrates women's success, and reminds of inequities still to be redressed."

You may have seen Daniel Craig's video where he's dressed in drag and Judi Dench intones:

"We’re equals, aren’t we 007? Yet it is 2011 and a man is still likely to earn more money than a woman, even one doing the same job. You have a far better chance of entering political office, or becoming a company director. As a man, you’re less likely to be judged by promiscuous behavior…which is just as well, frankly. And hardly any chance of falling victim to sexual assault. And unlike the 30,000 women in the UK who lose their jobs annually due to pregnancy, there will be virtually no risk to your career if you chose to become a parent. Or, became one accidentally. For someone with such a fondness for women, I wonder if you have ever considered what it might be like to be one.

The world has changed. But the numbers remain stacked against us. Women are responsible for 2/3 of the work done worldwide, yet earn only 10% of the total income, and own 1% of the property. It’s not just about money and power. Every year, 70 million girls are deprived of even a basic education. And a staggering 60 million are sexually assaulted on their way to school. We’re afraid to walk the streets at night, yet some of us are even more afraid to return to our own homes. At least 1 in 4 are victims of domestic violence. And every week, two women in the UK are killed by a current or former partner.

So, are we equals?


Until the answer is yes, we must never stop asking."

So much of what she said resonated with me, particularly when she talks about sexual assault, domestic violence, and being afraid to walk the streets at night.  Did you know that one in two women will be a victim of some form of sexual assault in the course of her lifetime?  That, to say nothing of the 1 in 4 who are victims of domestic violence, is a staggering statistic.  I have been fortunate thus far, and have not been a victim of sexual assault, but I know people who have and work with women at DAIS who have suffered in an abusive relationship.  I shook with terror as a neighbor was beaten by her partner, uncertain of what to do (I called the police, but it didn't put an end to things).  I know the fear that comes from walking alone at night and the anger and frustration that comes from being accosted in the street by guys who think it's perfectly okay.  Before I went on my snowboarding trip (at 6:45am!), a dude approached me and said, "Weeds".  Not expecting an English word, and really, it's not a standard conversational greeting in any language, I said, "Comment?" ("What?"), and he promptly took some weed out of his pocket and proposed we smoke a joint before I hit the slopes.  "No thanks, and please leave me alone" was my response.  His reply?  "Je t'encule."  Most offensive, male-to-female insult ever, much to my horror.  I was not a happy camper, but I also wanted to be sure I was safe.  Frustrating that the best way to defend myself was silence, when what I really wanted to do was yell at him.  Sadly, I think this is often the course of action taken in even more serious situations.

This experience was only further thrown into relief by what I've been reading lately.  Take The Millennium Trilogy, for example.  Apparently, Stieg Larsson witnessed a gang rape when he was younger, and part of his goal in writing the series was to create strong female characters who can outsmart and outwit their masculine counterparts.  He also relays stories about real strong women as narrative frames for different sections... like the some six hundred women who served during the American Civil War and the Amazons.  I loved that about the series, but there are also some gruesome scenes of violence against women.  The violence certainly flows in both directions, but there's a certain mentality that is disturbing with regard to the violence against women.  Those scenes, though fictional, are not far from reality, as I discovered when I read 3096 Days, Natascha Kampusch's memoir.  She was held captive and brutalized for 8 and a half years by a guy you would never expect (so much so that the police actually came and talked to him early during her captivity, and didn't pursue further investigation).  EIGHT AND A HALF YEARS.  From age 10 to 18. 

Eric Harris's journal entries in Columbine were no different.  His reflections and fantasies about raping and harming women in particular, to say nothing of his desire to cause the extinction of his entire high school, are, well, alarming.  I know these are extreme cases, but such examples are certainly not few and far between, and I can't help but wonder about the root cause of these types of behaviors and why they are particular to men (studies on psychopathy indicate that about 3-5% of the population exhibit characteristics of the anti-social personality disorder, and 1% are truly psychopathic.  According to this article in the Scientific American, the majority of those are men. It's definitely related to brain chemistry (psychopaths actually respond differently to images of pain!  the parts of the brain related to empathy aren't active!  whoa!), but there are other factors as well. 

All thoughts on psychopathy aside, if I have sons, I want to be sure I raise them to treat women (and everyone else, but particularly women) with respect.  And I'm grateful for the men in my life who aren't aggressive, disrespectful, or violent.

My thoughts on these things are still a little disorganized, disjointed, un peu flou... there may be another related blogpost on the subject in the future, but for now I'll just leave it in the same place Judi Dench did--until we have reached the point of equality, we must never stop asking why that is and how we can change it.  

It's a small world...

So, it occurred to me that in very recent history, I've experienced two run-ins with some of my favorite people in international cities, namely Geneva and Venice, that were entirely unplanned. 

The first story involves a certain Ginny Horner Hodum, who crossed the seas to do a J-term study abroad program in Fribourg.  Obviously, we were delighted at the opportunity to schmance on a different continent, and I was excited about the possibility of her meeting my dad who was visiting.  (Both Ginny and my dad are mirthful individuals.)  Unfortunately, Ginny had a required trip the day we originally scheduled to meet and have lunch with my pops, but we arranged to meet at a later date, sans papa.  My dad and I went about our day, which included a trip to the Geneva UN Headquarters.  As chance would have it, that is exactly where Ginny's required trip took her that day (we had not exchanged this bit of information beforehand!), and we did a little song and dance when we crossed paths in the gift shop.  United Nations indeed... bringing people together all the time.  And Ginny got to meet my dad!

The second story involves a former student from my French 203 class, Dan a.k.a. Danger (as in dangerous on the dance floor!) Rebholz.  He's spending the year in a town outside of Lille working as a teaching assistant at a French high school.  Gallivanters that we are, we both had made plans to be in Venice for Carnevale and exchanged contact information, so we could meet up for a spell.  As (bad) luck would have it, my phone failed to send him a text message to coordinate a time and place for a reunion.  No matter... just as I had stowed away my phone, resigned to the fact that our paths would not cross, my friends and I were leaving the little bar/café where we had indulged in a little afternoon wine and tiramisu, and who did I see walking toward us?  DAN!  Venice is a small city, that I grant you, but we were on a little side street.  What are the ODDS that we would roll out at JUST the right moment? 

It's a small world after all.  And I just don't believe in coincidence.  :)  Meant-to-be reunions are grand...

Integrity...

So, I've been seeing a lot of things on the news and around the world lately that have gotten me thinking about integrity.  You know what exactly does the term mean after all?  Are you born with it, or can it be cultivated?  And can it be recovered?

Webster's says it is:

"1:  firm adherence to a code of especially moral or artistic values : incorruptibility

2:  an unimpaired condition : soundness

3:  the quality or state of being complete or undivided : completeness"

Incorruptibility...  we've seen lots of examples of the opposite recently.  You know, like the Lehman Brothers and their shady accounting and the dictatorships in Egypt and Libya covering up their human rights abuses as they tried/try to put down opposition. 

One of the examples that hits closest to home at the moment is Scott Walker's attempt to pass budget legislation through a political sleight of hand move.  Scoffing at the thousands of people who are unhappy with this move, rather than listening to unhappy constituents (there are plenty of constituents who voted him in and are okay with what he's doing, too, but his job is to listen to everyone!), he is taking calls from "David Koch" (or so he thought!), one of his key campaign contributors, to discuss how to get around the opposition.  Meanwhile, he refuses to take calls from the average, everyday citizen, or you know, Democratic senators.  Money and power apparently get you on the fast track to be heard.  How's that for corruptibility?  Ezra Klein has more to say about the subject here, but I think the key lesson in the exchange is you never know who you may be talking to, so it's better to try and live a life above reproach.  Sure, we all mess up, but I think that's the biggest part of integrity, really.  Being able to acknowledge your shortcomings and say when you've done something wrong.  Facing the music is more honorable than covering it up.  The truth usually comes out anyway. 

On a related note, there's the question of reporting with integrity...  The O'Reilly Factor did a story on the "violent" union protests taking place in Madison, WI.  Lacking any truly violent footage from the Capitol, images from some other protests in a land populated with palm trees (read: NOT Madison) were spliced in.  The uninformed viewer may simply latch on to those images and think, hey!  Violent protests are BAD!  Those union workers in Wisconsin are BAD!  Did the dog wag its tail here, or did the tail wag the dog?  Here it is: Palm Trees  (and p.s. what does that phrase mean, anyway, "professional left-wingers"?)

And then there's just the idea that integrity consists of what you do in your life when other people aren't watching.  That's what J.C. Watts said integrity is (well, character anyway): "Character is doing the right thing when nobody's looking.  There are too many people who think that the only thing that's right is to get by, and the only thing that's wrong is to get caught."  The whole ethical question of...  Do you take massive amounts of office supplies because you know it won't be detected?  Would you report an accounting error that's working in your favor?  Or would you cheat on your partner if given the opportunity, and you knew he/she would never find out?  Or let's say you hit a parked car, and there's some damage but no witnesses, would you hit and run?  Or leave a note?  Feeling bad because you get caught doesn't count... it's what you do when you know you won't get caught that counts, at least as far as I can tell, in terms of integrity.  I'm sure French Prime Minister François Fillon and French Foreign Affairs Minister Michèle Alliot-Marie would take back those free private jet rides to Egypt and Tunisia if they could.  And Beyoncé, Mariah Carey, and Nelly Furtado would probably like to take back their private concerts linked to the Qaddafi family, too.  (They have, donating the millions to human rights groups instead.  Wrongs can be righted, after all.  Would they have done it if the press hadn't found out though?  Did they know that was who was paying them the millions or not?  Food for thought.) I guess the minute you think you're above reproach is when you tend to fall off the bandwagon.     

What about intellectual integrity?  Did you see the story about the German Defense Minister who resigned due to plagiarizing his doctoral thesis?  I mean, I'm working on a doctoral thesis at the moment, and it's a tough slog.  But taking credit for someone else's ideas and passing them off as my own would make me feel unworthy of and more than a little guilty about those three letters after my name.  Hence, my utter familiarity with the quote mark key on my keyboard.  It's not so hard to use, really.  Apparently, it's beginning to be a common thread though, as some of my teaching colleagues have discovered, and considering the success of outfits like these: The Shadow Scholar.  What kills me about this guy is that he isn't willing to own up to his profession and provide his true identity.  If you're ashamed to claim your job (and not under a pseudonym), shouldn't that tell you something?  How do you market those skills on a resumé?  (Although maybe the folks on Wall Street would eat it up.)  And why the hell were details of assignments changed to protect the students in the article?  They're being PROTECTED from being found out as cheaters and plagiarizers?  Because they paid a fee and had a contractual bargain with this dude?  Doesn't that just REWARD the behavior?  Few things make me angry in this world, but this?  Kills me. 

So, to close this little reflection, I'll post one of my absolute FAVORITE movie scenes.  It's about integrity.  Not selling your soul and stepping all over someone else just to get ahead.  The reality is... you have to take responsibility for your actions.  And live as though everyone is watching (I mean hey... YOU are watching). 

My favorite parts of the clip (the really good nuggets, in my opinion, are underlined)?   

Col. Slade: "I don't know who went to this place — William Howard Taft, William Jennings Bryan, William Tell, whoever. Their spirit is dead; if they ever had one, it's gone. You're building a rat ship here — a vessel for sea-going snitches. And if you think you're preparing these minnows for manhood, you better think again. Because I say you are killing the very spirit this institution proclaims it instills! What a sham! What kind of show are you guys puttin' on here today? I mean, the only class in this act is sittin' next to me. And I'm here to tell you, this boy's soul is intact. It is non-negotiable. You know how I know? Because someone here, I'm not gonna say who, offered to buy it. Only Charlie here wasn't selling." 

Col. Slade: "Out of order — I'll show you out of order! You don't know what out of order is, Mr. Trask! I'd show you, but I'm too old, I'm too tired and I'm too fuckin' blind. If I were the man I was five years ago, I'd take a flame-thrower to this place! Out of order? Who the hell you think you're talking to!?  I've been around, you know? There was a time I could see. And I have seen, boys like these, younger than these, their arms torn out, their legs ripped off. But there is nothin' like the sight of an amputated spirit. There is no prosthetic for that. You think you're merely sending this splendid foot-soldier back home to Oregon with his tail between his legs, but I say you are executing his soul! And why? Because he's not a "Baird man." Baird men — you hurt this boy, you're going to be Baird bums, the lot of ya. And Harry, Jimmy, Trent, wherever you are out there — fuck you, too!"

Col. Slade: "As I came in here, I heard those words, "cradle of leadership." Well, when the bough breaks, the cradle will fall. And it has fallen here, it has fallen! Makers of men, creators of leaders — be careful what kind of leaders you're producing here. I don't know if Charlie's silence here today is right or wrong, I'm no judge or jury. But I can tell you this — he won't sell anybody out to buy his future! And that, my friends, is called integrity. That's called courage. Now that's the stuff leaders should be made of. [pause] Now I have come to the crossroads in my life. I always knew what the right path was; without exception, I knew. But I never took it. You know why? It was too... damn... hard. Now here's Charlie, he's come to the crossroads. He has chosen a path. It's the right path. It's a path made of principle, that leads to character." 

Now that's good writing. And it wasn't plagiarized.  We should be thinking about how to instill that value in our education system, rather than rewarding the kids who pay to have their essays written or the bankers and investors who have made a big mess of the economy thanks to some accounting adjustments.  Thank goodness some models of integrity--incorruptibility, soundness, completeness--still exist.  (I know a good number of them :))  And they should be the ones rewarded... 

Swiss Singing

So today on my way home from Bern, I listened to RadioLab's Lost & Found podcast... amazing for several reasons: 1) I always get lost, and apparently there's a people in Australia who NEVER get lost because it's a feature of their language (yeah, that's right... how are you translates to where you going, which has approximately 80 answers based on how precise they are on that compass rose).  I was trying to figure out which direction I was walking on the way home... going to work on that, maybe my sense of direction will get better.  2) There was this beautiful story of a couple in love and how a young man roused his beloved from the dead, "pulling her out of the wall" she had been shut in after a tragic accident.  Seriously, I had to restrain myself from weeping.  It was also oddly reminiscent of Le Scaphandre et le Papillon.    If you want to listen to the rest of the podcast (it's pretty sweet!), check it here:  New Episode: Lost & Found

Aside from that, with about ten minutes left to go in my podcast, I could hear something else through my headphones: a young man across the way was singing it out.  SINGING IT OUT, I tell you.  The two ladies who were sitting near me (directly across from me and across the aisle) smiled and chuckled.  It was a nice little neighborly moment... the Swiss crooner was hilarious.  And he didn't care what anyone else thought about it.  So sing it out... it'll make someone's day. 

On revolution...

Ever since I studied the French Revolution and the Russian Revolution in my IB World Studies classes in high school, I've been intrigued by the idea of popular uprisings as a way to bring about social change.  To say nothing of our own American Revolution.  

One of the greatest books I read then was Crane Brinton's Anatomy of a Revolution (shout-out to Mrs. McGloine, the best history teacher ever!), and here's what he says about the revolutionary process:

"financial breakdown, [to] organization of the discontented to remedy this breakdown ... revolutionary demands on the part of these organized discontented, demands which if granted would mean the virtual abdication of those governing, attempted use of force by the government, its failure, and the attainment of power by the revolutionists" (p.253).

So, it seems that in Egypt they're at the "attempted use of force by the government, its failure" part... Here's hoping the power goes to the revolutionists soon, before more blood is shed. 

Life ain't a track meet... it's a marathon.

So, as I've been tying on my running shoes lately, four times a week, religiously, as my training program prescribes, I've also been thinking that maybe I should approach my dissertation writing with the same zeal and rigor.  I mean, let's consider the similarities:

Marathon: Sixteen-weeks to train                 Diss: Twenty weeks left in Geneva
It's a LONG haul: 26.2 miles                         It's a LONG haul: 250 pages
Sometimes I hate it... I don't WANNA run    Sometimes I hate it... I don't WANNA write
Sometimes I love it... Runner's high              Sometimes I love it... Light bulb goes off
Requires daily commitment                           Requires daily commitment
Easy to procrastinate (ooooh, just ate)           Easy to procrastinate (new Glee show!)
I have to do it... even if others are training.   I have to do it... even if others are writing.
It's tiring!  My legs are pooped!                     It's tiring!  My brain is pooped!   
Apparently, you hit a wall (mile 20 or so)     Apparently, you hit a wall (chs. 1.5, et al.)
Equipment required: shoes, goos, carbs        Equipment required: compy, Coke, books
Reward=satisfaction and a medal                  Reward at the end=satisfaction and a
                                                                       piece of paper with three little letters on it   

I'm pretty sure there are other similarities, but maybe if I start thinking about my diss as if it were a marathon, I'll make steadier progress.  Rome wasn't built in a day, I won't run a marathon tomorrow, but I will in May this year.  I won't finish my dissertation tomorrow, but I will hopefully have it done and defended by May 2012.  Let the training begin!  Petit à petit, l'oiseau fait son nid.
                                

Don't Stop Believing...

Recently, I've had this song on repeat on my iPod:  Don't Stop Believin' (Glee version)

Whenever I feel downtrodden, it lifts my spirits... I'm a bit of a sucker for cheese.   And I'm not afraid to say it. :)

But seriously, Journey had something right when they wrote this song...

We may not be able to choose what happens to us all the time, but we can choose how we react. Negativity usually begets more negativity--it's a downward spiral.  But smile at the world, and it often smiles with you.

I've become a bit disenchanted with the whole academic enterprise, with all the reports about slashed budgets, fewer positions, and an overall bleak job outlook for my field... but I really want to finish this dissertation and earn my degree, no matter what I end up doing with it.  Don't stop believing in achieving the dream. 

We can move mountains if we want to--see Tunisia and Egypt.  Our voices can and should be heard.  Don't stop believing in our power to affect change. 

When it comes to matters of the heart, as Jamie Randall says in Love and Other Drugs: "You meet thousands of people, and then you meet one person, and your life is changed… forever." And when it's the real deal, it's the real deal.  Don't stop believing in true love.    

And as far as matters of faith are concerned... questions and doubts abound sometimes.  I believe there's a reason for everything though, and asking the questions, trying to make sense of it all is half the fun.  Don't stop believing...

Le regard de l'autre... through the eyes of my father

Speaking of the other's gaze, it's been wonderful to have my dad around for the past ten days or so.  We went all around town, and his gaze was drawn to things I've never given a second glance... Oh, look at that, Mary, what are THOSE for?  I had never even noticed the teeny-tiny chimneys on rooftops all over!  He wanted to drink everything in and kept exclaiming how beautiful the city is (he's right :)).  Even the landscapes and images he tried to capture on film were different.  Kinda makes you wonder what it might be like to be in someone else's brain for a minute... is the way I perceive the physical world the same as the way someone else does?  Probably not. 

As for how he views others, he wanted to jump right in and get involved in the action.  He's like that in the United States, too, and it just might be where I got my tendency to talk to random strangers (though I'm more inclined to do it in the U.S. than here).  In Paris, he wanted to greet people and interface with them, like he does back home.  He wanted to look into their eyes, SEE them, and I wanted to avert my gaze and blend into the background as much as possible.  Why? Because that's kinda what you do in Paris, and I had assumed the others' gaze (without worrying too much about my own), so as to avoid being on the receiving end of theirs.  You know, avoid any potentially embarrassing situations!  Try not to bother anyone!

The reality is, the general response to my father's gaze was always one of welcome, amusement, and kindness... in Geneva, a café owner offered us a second round of coffee and apricot juice; in Paris, we made friends with two servers at a crêperie, one who actually apologized for her chilly welcome (she had scarcely said bonjour) and explained that she wasn't normally like that, that mankind had been getting her down lately.  She thanked us for our smiles, my dad gave her his famous cheesecake recipe (which I then had to translate--whoa, metric measurements and words like "springform pan"), and she finished up her shift with a smile on her face and a bounce in her step.  The other server saw us in the street the next day and stopped to shake our hands and ask how our visit was going.  At the Chinese/Japanese restaurant we went to, the owner offered us an after-dinner drink.  And on the way back to Geneva, we met a lovely couple, Marco and Létitia, who invited us to come to their Italian restaurant (I LOOOOVE Italian food).

We went there for lunch the next day (sidebar: we had some difficulty finding the place initially... our taxi driver suggested we call information at 118, since the restaurant didn't seem to be at the address I had found on Google.  I did, only to discover that I had called the FIREMEN!  At first, I thought this was a very disappointing linguistic error on my part with respect to the number, but no, as I discovered thanks to the interwebs and a fiery debate over the subject (pun intended!), the number for information in France is 118, and here in Switzerland it is 1811... for the folks who live on the border, not so easy to keep all the numbers straight! The fireman on the end of the line graciously gave me the correct number for information, and it turns out I had the right address.  The restaurant was just set back a bit from the street and not easily visible), and they offered us a complimentary apéro, an extra pizza, and a free dessert.  Seriously, when others see my dad, they must think:  give him something!!! :)  I will miss having him around (not just because of the free goodies), but I'll try to keep a bit of his vision... eyes wide with wonder, trying to see and drink in every sight and sound.

Le Regard de l'autre... Israel/Palestine and religion

To continue on with this idea about the other's gaze, I'd like to reflect on a recent trip to Israel/Palestine and the role of religion in general.

When I arrived at the Jerusalem airport, one of the first things I was asked when I got off the plane and was waiting for a sherut to fill up with passengers was:  "Are you Jewish?"  Soon after, a Moroccan taxi driver told me, out-of-the-blue, with no preamble, "I hate the Palestinians."  The only thing I could think of was WHY?  I couldn't help but wonder if he'd ever even seen a Palestinian, sat down for coffee with one, looked him squarely in the eyes.  There would be plenty of emotions there...  And I wonder if that sea of emotions would prevent that Palestinian from truly seeing the Israeli, too.

The real question is why does the lens of religion so often determine our perceptions?  Once there is a label assigned, a corresponding reaction is developed.  And it wasn't just in Israel.  The question of my faith came up in Cairo quite a bit, too, only there the question was:  "Are you Muslim?"  I would reply, "No, no, I'm Catholic, you know--ahl al-Kitab (people of the Book!)"  This prompted amused smiles, and I even had an interesting conversation with one of the guards at the Citadel about religion and inter-faith marriages, what works, what doesn't. 

Overall, my experiences in both countries, juxtaposed one after the other just confirmed what I already believed about religion.  First, we should all be so lucky as to be free to practice our religion as we see fit: Jewish, Christian, Muslim, Atheist, Pagan, Zoroastrian, whatever.  Faith isn't about twisting an arm or burning at the stake in order to force conversion.  We can arrive at these conclusions on our own, hearing the voice of God or the Universe as it speaks to us.  Second, the instant religion is invoked to inflict pain or suffering on another individual, I think it is no longer serving its purpose.  No religion has the monopoly, and I think it's truly about teaching us how to live with one another peacefully (even if through history it has led to quite the opposite).  I happen to enjoy practicing my faith as a Catholic, but I don't hate anyone who doesn't share my beliefs. 

There seems to be one common thread across all faiths and life philosophies, and I think that's the primary thing we should be focusing on... 

Judaism: From the Torah~Leviticus 19:18: "Do not seek revenge or bear a grudge against anyone among your people, but love your neighbor as yourself." (This verse was actually written on the wall between Palestine and Jerusalem.)

The 20th-century Jewish theologian Will Herberg argued that "justice" is at the heart of the Jewish notion of love, and the foundation for Jewish law: "The ultimate criterion of justice, as of everything else in human life, is the divine imperative — the law of love .... Justice is the institutionalization of love in society .... This law of love requires that every man be treated as a Thou, a person, an end in himself, never merely as a thing or a means to another's end. When this demand is translated into laws and institutions under the conditions of human life in history, justice arises.

Islam:  From the Qur'an~41:33: Nor can Goodness and Evil be equal. Repel (Evil) with what is better: then will he between whom and thee was hatred become as it were thy friend and intimate!

60:8: Allah does not forbid you respecting those who have not made war against you on account of (your) religion, and have not driven you forth from your homes, that you show them kindness and deal with them justly; surely Allah loves the doers of justice.

From the Hadith-~"You will not enter paradise until you have faith; and you will not complete your faith till you love one another." (Muslim)

 

Christianity: John 13:34~A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another.

1 John 3:18 : "Little children, let us not love in word or speech but in deed and truth".

Buddhism:  The Buddha taught the following to his son Rahula (from "Old path white clouds" by Thich Nhat Hahn): "Rahula, practice loving kindness to overcome anger. Loving kindness has the capacity to bring happiness to others without demanding anything in return.  Practice compassion to overcome cruelty. Compassion has the capacity to remove the suffering of others without expecting anything in return.  Practice sympathetic joy to overcome hatred. Sympathetic joy arises when one rejoices over the happiness of others and wishes others well-being and success.  Practice non-attachment to overcome prejudice. Non-attachment is the way of looking at all things openly and equally. This is because that is. Myself and others are not separate. Do not reject one thing only to chase after another.  I call these the four immeasurables. Practice them and you will become a refreshing source of vitality and happiness for others."

Hinduism:  The religious teacher Sri Ramakrishna (1836–1886) taught that "Lovers of God do not belong to any caste . . . A brahmin without this love is no longer a brahmin. And a pariah with the love of God is no longer a pariah. Through bhakti (devotion to God) an untouchable becomes pure and elevated."

Secular Humanism:  Carl Sagan~ "For small creatures such as we the vastness is bearable only through love."

"The earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that in glory and in triumph they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot. Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of the dot on scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner of the dot. How frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds. Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the universe, are challenged by this point of pale light. Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity -- in all this vastness -- there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves. It is up to us. It's been said that astronomy is a humbling, and I might add, a character-building experience. To my mind, there is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world. To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly and compassionately with one another and to preserve and cherish that pale blue dot, the only home we've ever known."

To sum it up, all you need is love, no matter where you sit.  If anyone has other examples of religious traditions or philosophies that focus on the same thing, feel free to comment or share a quote..,

Le Regard de l'Autre...

As someone who studies colonialism and post-colonialism, I'm often thinking about "Le Regard de l'Autre" (the Other's Gaze).  How do we perceive others, and how do others perceive us?  When misperceptions take place, what is actually the root cause of them?  Perhaps the real problem is that we're not willing to look our neighbor, the one we call the Other, the one who certainly is nothing like ME, straight in the eye.  Instead, we cast sidelong glances or make eye contact only to look away...

Aside from my area of study, several recent experiences have prompted me to do a series of blog posts to reflect on this idea... the Other's Gaze. 

To start, let's consider a warm-up activity my improv theater group does from time to time.  Pick a partner, any partner, stand facing each other, about two feet apart, and look  at each other directly in the eyes... first, just to SEE them.  Your eyes can wander a little bit on their face, but the point is really to lock gazes.  And the exercise lasts for about five minutes or so, just this first part.  Let me tell you, it's not easy.  The immediate reaction is nervous, twittering laughter, followed by looking away.  How often do you truly lock eyes with someone you hardly know, and when you do, how long does that eye contact truly last?

For the second part of the exercise, an emotion is chosen, and you have to continue looking into each other's eyes, only this time you're communicating something... anger that this person has just stabbed you in the back, happiness that you are finally reunited with a long-lost friend, sympathy for a friend who has just lost a parent.  It's really hard to sustain what feels like a genuine emotion through extended eye contact.. but there really is so much that can be communicated there, if we just look.  I need to practice looking with compassion, rather than a critical eye.  And I guess we all could do better at that, huh?