Rogue One

If the below reads with the melodrama of a fan transported by an over-active imagination and a penchant for reckless empathy, well, that's probably because I love Star Wars. And I love movies. The subtle ways cinematography and the music score and flawless acting tease out a person's emotions and make good stories become that much more dazzling, it really is movie magic.

And the magic is not just in being transported to another time and place, it's also magical how movies pound on the struggles of our times. It was hard to watch the hubbub of Jedha and hear Kassian describe fighting with the rebels for a lifetime and not draw parallels to the war and unrest in the world today. As the slow tilt towards tyranny in my own country begins to pick up speed, Rogue One has me daydreaming about what resistance looks like and how to do it ethically.

So I think I might be a pacifist? This is the influence Michael and Rebecca and Wendell Berry have had over me in my formative years . . . It was an easy bent to have when the wars my country was involved in displaced the principle of national sovereignty in the name of protecting our monetary and political interests. It was easy to say that Americans should come home when I didn't fully understand what they were doing abroad in the first place.

Pacifism is harder when you have something you think could be worth fighting for.

In Star Wars it's not as though they're even so much fighting for some greater ideal or religious freedom; it's a matter of self-preservation. At this point the Empire already has the political power; it just wants to wipe those who dissented out. So when the Alliance doesn't want to send rebels to steal Death Star plans, Jyn tells them they don't have a choice; it's futile to surrender and plead for mercy.

And so in the name of self-preservation they do a lot of sketchy things. The first time we see Kassian he's shot a source, no hesitation, just popping caps with such nonchalance that I assumed he was a bad guy. Jyn herself is a criminal, but the rebels break her out of jail so they can use her as bait to, wait a sec, kill a rebel extremist? And then kill her father, who is also a double agent? Rogue One makes an excellent showing of how coordinating a resistance is fraught with opportunity to become the thing you're fighting.

(I'll hand it to the Imperial Army; in spite of their internal political squabbles, their strong leadership keeps them organized and on-message.)

This is how I feel about a lot of activist efforts mobilizing in my area. I am very thankful of the efforts of the ACLU and AILA and other attorneys that have provided support to those affected by the "terrorist ban" executive order. I am encouraged by the demonstrations and protests and discussions I see happening in the media and in book clubs and person to person. But the discussion is sometimes not nuanced enough, not precise enough, not careful enough to pose a truly ethical challenge to an unethical administration. We have a group of extremists (or I don't even know anymore, maybe Breitbart trolls?) at Berkeley smashing windows and starting fires. We have misinformation or exaggeration of the facts floating around. We have factious silencing of diverse viewpoints from within the "resistance" itself, alienating many potential allies and undermining fundamental American values. So, you know, democracy can be a check on power but it can also be a mob unto itself. #flawedhumanproblems

I left Rogue One thinking about the allure and glamour and horror of war; the bravery, the self-sacrifice, the purposefulness, the loss. I don't believe that a civil war is coming to our country, but I see in Rogue One the appeal of giving up everything to be the resistance, and with that appeal is also the danger that our conscience becomes obscured.

The Threat of Opposition

Here is where I would like us to get as a culture, to a place where we can cease to see disagreement and opposition as threatening. 

I know that's a lot to ask; didn't Anakin strangle Padme because they wanted fundamentally different things for the Republic?

So, not being threatened by disagreement from people who oppose your ideas takes some trust that they're not going to Force Choke you if they get the chance, and that is absolutely hard.

However, I think it's better for our democracy and our sense of humanity if we can normalize that trust in our culture and give regular disagreement-driven dialogue a chance. 

This is what I loved about Trevor Noah and Tomi Lahren appearing together on one show talking about the issues. Granted, it was utterly fruitless. No one changed their minds and fans of either media personality emerged convinced their side at pwned the convo. But whatever the reaction of their followers, those two individuals proved it is possible to disagree with someone over deeply emotional and value-laden issues and still be relatively blasé about it. Blasé in a good way. 

A friend of mine flipped out when she found out I believe Genesis is literal and historical. She wasn't sure she could have a close personal relationship with someone who so denied logic and science, things that to her are fundamental and non-negotiable. (For the record, I too am a fan of science and logic, but my roommate's experiences lead her to conclude they are incompatible with a literal reading of Genesis. And I disagree, but I see why she would conclude as such, and thus I do not find her perspective threatening.)

To her credit, she has since calmed down and decided that our friendship is not nullified by my crazy beliefs, but this interaction was illustrative for me of just how difficult it is to agree to disagree when the stakes are so high. 

Another friend of mine is in denial that behaviors I label as sexist are indeed a bad thing. I shared a whole spectrum of experiences I've had--being patronized in the workplace, being felt up at bars, being let off easy during traffic stops--but for each anecdote the response was the same: "It's all in your head." Or, "That's not sexism, that's life." This was difficult for me to hear, especially because I don't consider myself a passive victim. How can someone who claims to care about you also say to your that your perspective is fabricated and that you deserve the bad things that happen to you? 

But don't you know it, that person is still my friend. No, we're not as close any more, but I am also acutely aware that while there are experiences which have brought my friend to a perspective that is hostile to my own perspective, he is still a person. Though he does not appreciate that his perspective diminishes my humanity, he is still himself a human, a work in progress, an image bearer. It's not easy to have grace and trust in these disagreements, but it's worth it if it keeps both of us humble.

And I should offer the caveat that I don't necessarily believe it is a good and desirable thing for ALL people to seek harmony with those who deny their identity. I see the pain caused to my gay friends by families that tell them, "We love you but we don't support you." I feel deep offense when acquaintances express support for anti-miscegenation laws or the dissolution of native governments. I get that for many people those relationships may not be worth it. 

But I am also inspired by generations of black folks who have worked inside a system that was not structured for them, and who labored alongside ignorant white folks that did not care about their struggles, but spoke out or sought progress that their humanity would not be ignored. And when white feminists weren't there for civil rights, women of color were still there for feminism. There is so much power in that magnanimity. And there's a lot more common ground up for grabs than we realize.

Maybe I've gotten a bit astray from my original point, because in all reality, for most in my circle, the conservative/liberal friction is not one of identity but of ideology. My peeps are mostly white, middle-class, evangelical, and millennials. No one is telling that cohort that their identities don't matter. So disagreements of ideology, of liberal versus conservative, are considerably easier, to my mind. And maybe I'm a naive moderate for saying so, but I don't think conservativism and liberalism are always mutually exclusive. A car needs both gas and breaks. Americans need both freedom and equality. Our country needs both fiscal responsibility and a social safety net. 

So if I can find it in my heart to move past the misguided rhetoric, warped statistics, cherrypicked anecdotes, and fundamentally different values of the other side, I can appreciate that there must be another way to get a long. Self-righteousness is a terrible poison, and interaction through disagreement bring the antidote of humility.

Inauguration Day

I don't want to despair (because in my Jesus I always have hope).
I don't want to condone (because where there has been wrongdoing there must be justice).
I don't want to minimize (because my own isolation from the problem does not excuse me from caring about those who are indeed affected).
I don't want to dramatize (because premature alarm levies its own form of damage upon the public conscience).

But truth be told maybe things are both worse than I think but better than I deserve.

Last First Day

A wave of anxiety overtook me last night, I'm sorry to say. I was (am!) nervous about what tomorrow would bring, my last first day of school. Will I sit for a few minutes in the completely wrong classroom? Will I get cold called and not know the answer? Or will I talk too much and get labeled a gunner? (Will I ever stop worrying about such trifling things?)

But there is the thrill of it, too. I learned so many interesting things in just the first hour of my day! Did you know, for example, that until just this past summer, the federal government had a monopoly on growing marijuana for research purposes? That's right, the DEA controls a federally owned and operated facility at Ole Miss that grows, processes, and sells cannabis. Weird, right?

When this semester is through, I know that I will miss study sessions at Boston Common Coffee Co (with it's splatter-paint artwork featuring images like a cartoon unicorn-wolf hybrid with its ribs showing and the outline of Rhode Island), and looking out from the fifth floor commons over he Park Street Church steeple and the State House's golden dome, and eating that amazing combination of pickle and rye grilled cheese from the Sargent caf. I will miss being part of an academic community, for all its warts and bruises.

But I know that I will not miss having to juggle work and school and clinic, I will not miss completing meandering writing assignments and 24-hour finals, I will not miss this weird tension I still feel sometimes between wanting to be thought a smartypants by my peers and wanting to just keep my head down and get my work done. I will not miss the panic of seeing someone walk into the classroom wearing a suit and wondering what interviews are happening that I am not participating in. I will not miss FAFSA.

Law school has been so different from undergrad, and I know I will miss it less, but change is a'coming, and that's always its own thing.

Takeoffs & Landings

I really loved my former apartment. It was just one stop from downtown, with the most amazing view of the skyline from across the small stretch of water. There was the new Jeffries Point Park and also Dough, La Sultana, and La Hacienda all within walking distance. But I kind of love my new apartment, too. It's across the street from a small beach that overlooks part of the airport, and I've spent a few afternoons sitting on the sand watching planes taxi down the runway and lift into the air. 

Which of course makes me think about life.

I'm a little scared. I'm scared of my schedule, which is packed to burst with school and work and extracurriculars. I'm scared of not delivering quality product to teachers and students. I'm scared of watering unhealthy habits and of growing further away from my God instead of becoming grounded in Him. Last fall was difficult. Is this fall going to be even hard? Each new thing is a takeoff. Each success is a landing.

Life is a series of these, takeoffs and landings. Most lives are a grueling marriage to a proverbial suitcase, moving from one flight to another to another, endlessly. That makes me feel tired. I watch the flight attendants who get on the train at the airport stop, with the little rolly suitcases, headed home after a few days on. (The whole top floor of our building is flight attendants.) I think about what a hard job they have.

My co-teacher told me today one of our students left his country because his parents were shot. I have a student whose parents sent him to the USA to study English to protect him from gang recruitment. I have a handful of students from Libya who are in the US biding their time for stability to come to their country so they can return. My students remind me that even the rich and the privileged experience heartache and tragedy. Because life has turbulence. 

I watch the takeoffs and landings and think of all the people sitting in chairs encased by a hunk of metal, and suddenly they are moving through the sky. It's amazing. Life is a gift. 

How Frozen keeps blessing my life

It's shocking how many monologues I've been starting lately with the phrase, "See, this reminds me of Elsa." Because isn't Elsa so relatable?

This is what I mean. Spoilers for those of you who somehow have managed to avoid seeing this precious film.

Elsa has ice powers.
Elsa and Anna play with her ice powers as children, and it's all fun and games until Anna gets hit in the head and the doctor who heals her foresees something terrible happening as a result of Elsa's powers.
Elsa and her parents misinterpret the doctor's warnings and decide the best thing is for Elsa to put on gloves and hide out in her room to keep from hurting anyone.
But at Elsa's coronation she loses control and the ice explodes all over the party.
Everyone is (understandably) freaked out, and Elsa runs away.
She sings "Let It Go", celebrating the fact that now she can let her ice powers run wild without having to worry about hurting anyone.
But that freedom is bittersweet because Anna comes to find her, and in the process ends up getting a dart of ice to the heart.
In the end, love of her sister drives her homeward, where the bad guy tries to do her in and Anna sacrifices herself to save Elsa and true love heals both frozen hearts. 

Watch it. You will laugh, you will cry, it will move you. Promise.

Hopefully the subtext here is pretty obvious. Elsa is afraid. She's afraid of a part of herself she can't control. She's afraid of her capacity to hurt other people. She isolates to avoid that fear, and when she runs away from everyone she thinks she's found freedom. And while she finally experiences the joy of being who she is, people still get hurt because she never learned to control her power. The happy ending finally comes when love trumps fear and Elsa gets her powers under control. 

Love casts out fear. I was going to get that tattooed on my chest, had the design and the parlor picked out and everything, until I realized I was too afraid of needles to go through with it. But it's a principle I would feel comfortable having permanently etched into my skin because I think I need the daily reminder: there is no fear in love.

Unfortunately, fear is perpetually present in my life. Fallen world. Sinful girl. There's a laundry list of fears floating around in my head right now, temporary and long-term, superficial and existential, stomach-fluttering and heart-sickening. It is what it is. I can't necessarily snap my fingers and be done with it, but I can dwell on love. There is a safety net. There are strong arms. There is a love with a depth and a width and a height and a length I cannot fathom. And that love is shown to me each day. When I am set on love the fear is less crippling. 

The other lesson here is to control what you can control. Fear leads to its own kind of defeatism. I trend towards laziness and I find it leagues easier to throw my hands up in the air and admit, "I'm screwed up and there's nothing I can do about it." And that's dangerous grounds because it leads to isolation. And then sometimes your greatest fears can come true. (Elsa locked herself in her room because she was afraid of hurting Anna again, and guess what, she ended up hurting Anna again. Life, amirite?)

But we're not helpless in the face of our demons. Fear doesn't win, love does. For Elsa, the love of her sister enabled her to get her ice powers under control. No longer afraid of what she could do, she harnessed them so Olaf could experience summertime in one piece. We have not only the precious love of the people who care about us, but the divine love of our God and the partnership of the Holy Spirit, who is with us reminding us that we are righteous in the eyes of the Lord and that we have a promise to one day be whole. 

You may be sick of hearing little girls belting out "Let It Go" on the streets, but dayum, it's a catchy song. We are not called the carry the guilt for the mistakes we've made; we are free and can rejoice that no burdens weigh on our shoulders any longer. 

It's okay to celebrate

Here is my confession: I waited with taunt anticipation for SCOTUS to release their opinions this morning, and when they announced that they were granting same sex marriage in all 50 states I wanted to CHEER! But I didn't, even though I was in the basement of a building housing a predominantly liberal office with only one other person who probably also felt like cheering. But I didn't cheer, and this is why.

I thought:

1. Is it okay that I'm happy about this?
2. Is my happiness about this incongruent with my faith?
3. WWJD . . .
4. Can't tweet about it either because my tweets go straight to my dad's phone.
5. I mean, my dad's a good man and he loves me, but he might think I've had a little too much of the liberalist Kool-Aide.
6. People are going to think I don't care what the Bible says.
7. Or they're going to think I'm just making things up.
8. Or they're going to think my brain is full of heresy.
9. Oh man, this is the normalization of evil, Satan wants me to cheer for marriage equality like he wants me to smile at the "Say Anything" sex scene or shrug off hooker jokes.
10. I'm probably wrong about everything.

But I couldn't stop thinking about it all day. Today felt special, historic. I read article after article, reactions from every faith blogger or journalist who has credibility with me, trying to find some explanation for or dissection of what I was thinking. My sister said that how the church responds today is really important. So I decided it was okay to celebrate.

WHY IT'S OKAY TO CELEBRATE:

1. Equal Protection

The Bible doesn't require you be a fan of the Constitution, so that's fine. If you're against the 14th Amendment, this idea won't matter to you. But for those of you who appreciate our structure of government as one that's better than most, this decision strengthened one of the greatest doctrines of our government. The law of our land says you can't treat one group of people differently than another. The equal protection clause assures fair treatment even when a huge portion of the nation stands against you. Sure, for the "moral majority" it's concerning to have your power circumvented, to have the court muzzle democracy. And yet, where the Athenian democracy went belly up the USA (struggles to do) does good. I'm thankful for a government that bats for the little guy, because it feels like that doesn't happen too often. That fairness is worth celebrating.

(Really. This does not affect us.) (Though if and when it does, I have something to say about that, too. Dig deep and stand with the persecuted church around the world.)

2. A Step Against Bigotry

It's one thing for us as believers to say we love gay people. I think we say it with good intentions, but also with naivete. There are people who have lost their jobs for the sole reason that they're gay. There are kids who have taken their own lives because they couldn't cope with social attitudes regarding same sex attraction. There are people who get mistreated and cussed out and called rude names because their haircuts were "too butch" or their nails were "too effeminate." We believers would call that wrong, but what do we do to change the cultural tide to treat people with respect? As same sex marriage brings about the normalization of gay relationships, I feel hopeful that this mistreatment will ebb. And I think it's okay to be excited for a cultural shift that will mean better treatment for a whole group of people.

3. A Refocus

There seems to be a tendency among believers to spend a lot of energy decrying the evil of sodomy*, presumably because the culture at large says the opposite. The culture at large actually says the opposite of believers a good portion of the time, because as Paul said, "When you were slaves to sin, you were free from the control of righteousness." The culture is going to be opposite us all the time, almost always. I'm not sure it matters all that much. Now that this issue is settled, maybe the faith community can refocus on the actual priority: preaching Jesus as the answer. I'M NOT SAYING SIN IS IRRELEVANT. But maybe now it will be easier for the church to treat sin like sin, instead of regular sin versus sin that is ALSO a hot button political issue. Because it's not about the politics, family, we know it's not. It's about Jesus and knowing Him better and knowing His love and showing His love to others.

As I believer, I think fairness, better treatment, and a clarified message are all things that are worth celebrating. Even when those things carry the baggage of normalizing sin.

I welcome the thoughts of believers who see where I'm coming from on this; I would like to know what you think about celebrating marriage equality within the contexts of the faith. To be honest, I'm not interested in hearing about the social ills of same sex marriage nor do I want to entertain any hand-wringing about the erosion of religious freedom. You may count my frankness about this intellectual dishonesty--it is, you're right--but I'm just looking for edification, not to change my mind.

Can believers celebrate today while still maintaining that sodomy* is a sin? Are the two mutually exclusive?



*I'm sorry to offend by using the term sodomy to mean any girl/girl or guy/guy sexual activity. It's an ugly word and I don't like saying it and I'm not even using it correctly, but I use the term to emphasize that the sin the Bible talks about is not "being gay" or experiencing same sex attraction but rather sexual activity with a person of the same gender. 

1L: lessons learned

My first year of law school, wow, it's over. It's amazing to me how swiftly this time flew by, especially compared to last year, but it's disheartening when I remember I still have two years to go before I can get in the trenches with clients. I love school, school is great, but it's intriguing to feel a new pull on my heart, a desire to do something other than sit in a classroom.

As with any academic endeavor, the whole point is learn stuff. And I've learned a lot about the law and our judicial system and how exactly the USA has gotten to where it is today, but I've also learned some personal things. I have made note of them here, in hopes that my own lessons may serve as perspective for you in learning yours.

• I learned that I don't adjust to new things as well as I thought I did. Adjustment takes time. Maybe more time for me than the average person. But it is what it is. Being depressed that I require time to settle into things does not make time tick by faster. 

• You have to be okay with sounding like an idiot when you talk in class. And so what if everyone thinks you're an idiot? I am constantly being surprised by classmates I thought had empty heads but are actual leagues smarter than me. So either I am actually an idiot, or sooner or later people will figure out I'm not the airhead I seem to be. 

• And to dovetail with that, there is nothing wrong with being an idiot! So you're not smart, fine. Being smart does not make you a better person. Being uneducated or even being ignorant doesn't mean you have committed a moral wrong that you deserve to be punished for. There is an aura of intellectual elitism that pervades Boston, because to be fair, education is a huge industry here! But there's an unspoken assumption that education makes people better people. I have a coworker or two who openly mock rednecks and think that the southern accent is uneducated. To be honest, I used to be that person. I'm trying not to be anymore. 

• I usually think of my year in Kazakhstan as ruining me; when I came back to the USA I was a basket case and this year being back has been THE HARDEST year of my life so far. But I don't give KZ enough credit for preparing me for life in Boston. In KZ I learned how to cook, go food shopping, take care of a leaking sink, teach English, live with another person, survive the cold and snow. All those things have benefited me enormously this past year. 

• ATFQ. Or if you don't know the answer, don't say anything. Word vomiting all the information you know is not what gets you a good grade. Answering the question does. Because that's what lawyers do. And even though the answer is usually "it depends", that's what keeps you in bread and butter. This has become my new life philosophy. 

• There are a lot of political philosophies out there, all of which spitball about the best way to structure a government. And I used to be a big proponent of limited government, balancing federal power with state power and limiting judicial review (or, I think we called it, judicial activism.) I joke that I'm a liberal now, but what it really mean is, I'm less worried about our nation going to crap. It's not the structure of our government that keeps us from turning into whatever country is spinning a global cautionary tale, it's the daily actions of the people who govern us. That's why voting's important, y'all. (I'm glad there are people who care about politics. I want them to keep caring. I want liberals and conservatives to keep fighting, because between the two extremes reality eventually falls in the middle.)

• If you're sick, rest. It was Wednesday and I felt like a raisin stuck to the bottom of a boot that kept slapping the pavement. It was bleh. Thursday I climbed into bed and when I crawled out Monday morning I was healed. It was like magic. I never tried the whole resting thing cos I just didn't think it worked. Why rest when Theraflu and Dayquil exist? Rest because it works!

• It's okay to need people. I am possibly allergic to asking people to do things for me. I can't cope with the feeling that I am inconveniencing someone by asking them to do me a favor. I feel icky that I'm somehow "using" others for my own personal gain. And yet, life is easier when you have people's help. The heart of the difference here is humility. I don't need people as pawns to reach my life's endgame. I need people because I flounder on my own, and sometimes those people are my endgame. I can't say I'm comfortable with this entirely, but I realize I need to get comfortable with it, which is a sizeable step for me.

• Build community where you can. Without this it's really hard to flourish; the loneliness of this phase of life is robust. Still, I am realizing that despite my myriad character flaws, insecurities, and lack of social graces, I can still make community by being open to the people around me and initiating. Don't underestimate yourself. You can't force a life-giving community to flourish, but you can help construct little safe havens along the way.

I made a lot of mistakes this past year:

I didn't get plugged in with a spiritual community.
I didn't get involved with any school activities.
I didn't befriend any of my classmates.
I didn't handle my first ever relationship right.
I didn't go to my professor's office hours. (This still shocks me, because that was my hallowed MO in undergrad.)
I didn't send thank you notes after any interviews.
I ate too many peanut butter M&Ms!

But it all worked out because God is good. And that's it. I'm not good. But God is good. And grace means He gives me things I don't deserve, even when I muck it all up. That's hard for me to swallow. That doesn't seem fair, in fact, it isn't fair. But it's not about me, it's about a God whose goodness needs to be known and recognized by all. So all I can do is testify. I survived 1L. My God is good.