Another Queer Jewish Buddhist

Marriage equality, the NYC Prop 8 Demo and channeling anger

Tonight the NYC queer community expressed its anger at the passage of Prop 8 in California with an old-fashioned street demonstration outside of the LDS church on Broadway and 65th Street. It was encouraging to see thousands of us to fight for marriage equality, even though it was for another state. How many of those that were out tonight have been part of the marriage equality fight in New York state? Certainly quite a few, since I recognized quite a number from the annual lobbying day in Albany. But many are not connected to any organized efforts. And there were some who chanted slogans that were anti-church.

Now, I am not exactly pro-church. I continue to be amazed that the one thing that brought together all the feuding religions to sit down in Jerusalem was their desire to issue a statement condeming queer people. It's enough to make a queer Jewish Buddhist into a militant atheist. Except that's actualy accepting their definition of queer folk — outside the spiritual. And quite frankly, I refuse to deny my connection to the Divine.

 Ours is a community that has been spiritually wounded by the religious establishment. And often, at demonstrations like these, where the religious establishment has truly done something heinous, the pain of this wounding comes out in expressions of hatred for religion and denial of our deepest longings for experiencing the Divine. The reason I seek loving relationships with men is that is where I experience the Divine Presence. I experience divinity and mystery in all my relations (to steal a phrase from Body Electric) whether they are physical or not, with men and women. But that highest connection has been in loving relationship with another man.

This evening I heard a lot of anger. And anger is appropriate. But I don't want my queer community to throw out the baby with the bath water by jettisoning spiritual connection while fighting organized bigotry and ignorance masquerading as religion.

Over at fivethirtyeight.com, Nate Silver has been debunking the analysis that it was the black  community that was responsible for the Prop 8 loss. His analysis of the voting patterns showed that it was a demographic I fall in, that is voters over 45, that made the difference.

But the point i really want to make here is the lesson that needs to be learned from the Obama campaign. The queer community in California created advertising that talked to people who were already on their side. Or just to themselves. They did not get shoe leather on the ground organizing in communities around the state. They did not work hard to engage people in the middle who could be swayed one way or the other. Sure, the LDS poured lots of money into the state. But churches are also communities that are highly organized. Where is our community organization? Our leaders are not deep in the community — and they sure dont' do much cross community organizing.

The very fact that we are even having this issue be fought so closely is something I never expected to see in my lifetime. I expected when I came out and joined the gay movement in 1970 that I would see a world where we felt safe, and were not objects of ridicule, disrespect or violence. That how we expressed our love would not be a violation of the law. I wasn't expecting to see legal recognition on the order of marriage. In fact, in 1970 there were many in the movement who wanted nothing to do with the institution they saw as obsolete.

I deeply believe marriage is important and makes communities stronger. And so I want it for my queer community. I believe deeply in the American value of freedom of religion. That means there will be religions out there that will never recognize my relationships as either valid or expressions of Divine love through human action. That's okay with me. I don't have to join that religion. And they don't have to marry me to anyone.

The mixture of marriage rites and marriage rights are some of the confusion that makes this a problem in the pubiic arena. But we are not engaging the people of faith who would be on our side. I am thrilled that the Empire State Pride Agenda has a program called Pride in the Pulpit, which engages communities of faith and leaders of those communities so that they actually are a large part of the efforts in Albany to extend marriage rights. I would have liked to have seen those people at the demonstration tonight. I chose to wear a star of David and a kippah at the demonstration be be out as a person of faith, because I felt it was important not only to be queer identified, but identified with Divine love. Which transcends religion.

May we open up to the pain of our spiritual wounding and use it to reconnect. May we use this reconnection to reach out to those who would hear us and support us if we learned to listen to them and truly hear their concerns. And I know we will prevail in our cause, because ultimately, nothing can withstand the power of love. 

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One of the nice things about the demonstration was I got to hang out with friends. I ran into people from GLYNY Again, the alumni organization of Gay & Lesbian Youth of New York (in photo below). I ran into friends from synagogue. From the Center. From my old schools. Work. It was quite a lot of fun in that way.

And as I left I saw the line of police cars that we so often see even when there are no demonstrations. As though they were there to intimidate the population. When Ann Northrup was instructing the marshalls on how to make sure there was no violence at the march, all I could think was, there are provocateurs in this crowd. There are secret police taking photos. And the line of police cars did not make me feel safer, they reminded me that the Bush years have been a growing police state, that used the terrorist attack of 2001 as an excuse to further strip us of our freedoms. I can only pray that the new president can reverse this trend, even though so much of this erosion is local.

Happy Birthday Ruth Messinger!

Ruth is one of my heroes — New York lost when we didn't elect her mayor. But the world won, since she went on the lead a truly great humanitarian organization, American Jewish World Service.

I remember the first time I saw her, handing out leaflets outside Zabar's, running for City Council from a very left 3rd party. Of course, she didn't win in that race. But soon she was inside the Democratic Party and raising hell when she did get on the Council from my nabe, jewish left central, the Upper West Side of Manhattan.

Ruth is 68 today. And I am sure the results of Tuesday's election was present enough for her. But best wishes from this old supporter and left handed/left headed queer Jewish Buddhist.

Image credit: Chrystie Sherman

Shehecheyanu: Giving thanks for being alive to see this moment

All blessings, and life, flow from One Source — a Source that is beyond time and space — and which has sustained us and brought us to this moment.

Yes, we did.
Yesterday was spent phonebanking for Obama with my friend John down at UFT headquarters near Wall Street.
We called voters in swing states. PA. FL. Then tonight we were off to Room Service in Chelsea where the local queer Dems were holding an election party to watch the tally as the polls closed.

It was a wild scene that began with some tension that lifted as the count clearly headed in our direction. When Christine Quinn took the stage after CNN called the race at 11pm, the crowd was screaming (including one man who vented his fury at Quinn for voting with the mayor on extending term limits). I left at 1am, after our new President spoke to the crowd in Chicago. I still don't know where we are in CA on Prop 8. But I do know this, while the road ahead in this country will still be hard, and while we are clearly still a country very divided, we have a leader who is clearly about healing division. Here at home. And abroad. And that is a real reason to say the Shehecheyanu prayer.

Depression is depressing: Smile, and help rename the new, improved 21st Century Hooverville: Contest Update

Businessweek reported that in October there were 40 invitations on Evite for Depression parties -- no details as to whether, like the old "Harlem Rent Parties" of the '30s whether guests were expected to help pay the month's mortgage to keep the hosts from becoming homeless...which brings us back to our month-long contest for a new Bush era name for the Hooverville. Details and prizes below. Meanwhile, some other depressing facts from Businessweek about the new Depression: Netflix reports a 10% rise in rentals of The Grapes of Wrath, while unemployment statistics rise to 6.5% (not counting the underemployed). And today the Chinese government, taking a page from FDR, announced a stimulus package of over $500 billion. Bush?  MIA, just like he was in the National Guard.

Too bad that Proposition R, the ballot measure in San Francisco to rename the local water treatment facility "The George W. Bush Sewage Treatment Plant" failed to pass. But you still have a chance to give Dubya an enduring memorial by renaming the Hooverville for his incompetent leadership. Entries accepted through Thanksgiving (tho today, the day after the election, feels like Thanksgiving to me). Details follow:

In the 1930s, as the Depression threw millions out of work — and foreclosures threw thousands of families out of their homes — shantytowns sprung up all over the country, makeshift shacks and sheds thrown together from discarded wood and packing material to house the newly homeless in vacant lots, public parks, wherever they were tolerated. Sometimes they weren't tolerated and the police acted to hide the problem in the name of cleaning up the neighborhood. Right. Well. This is a familiar story in New York City.

These shantytowns were called Hoovervilles, after the president who presided over the worst financial disaster in American history — until Dubya's deregulation led to our current ongoing crisis. Above you can see the Hooverville that sprang up in Central Park. But there were local Hoovervilles all over the country. You can actually download an excellent presentation on the subject for Oklahoma schoolkids at Oklahoma Council on Economic Education site.

This brings us to an art installation in Madison Square Park created by Tadashi Kawamata, and paid for by the Madison Square Park Conservancy. Shacks, "tree huts" have been built and installed as art. Reminiscent of treehouses I knew as a kid, my first response on seeing one was delight. Then, as I looked around and saw them in several trees, all I could think was that the money spent on this so-called art could have been given to Habitat for Humanity, which actually makes houses for people. But then, the board of the Conservancy all probably have so much money, for them this is simply play. I think it is in extremely bad taste. Of course, for some already living on the street, these are better digs than what they've got and are in move in condition. I supposed they're guarded at night just so that won't happen.

What is worse, I think it is an unintended harbinger of what is to come in our public parks none too soon. Except that they probably should be renamed for Dubya. Or maybe Greenspan. So this brings us to the contest: What do you think the new Hoovervilles should be called? 

I'll pick 3 winners for first, second and third prizes. To be awarded the day after Thanksgiving. What are the prizes?

First Prize: $100 donated to Habitat for Humanity in your name, and a copy of the B52s CD Cosmic Thing. Why that CD? Loveshack, baby.

Second Prize: $50 donated to Habitat for Humanity in your name, and a copy of the B52s CD Funplex. Why? Cause it's a revolution I can dance to.

Third Prize: $25 donated to Habitat for Humanity in your name. No CD. Wish I had put my 401k in CDs. Don't you?

Oh yeah, I'm the judge! So my family can't enter.

The Bamboo Sukkah

Up to the NY Botanical Garden today with friends Lou & Danyal to see the Henry Moore sculptures on a glorious autumn day. So glorious that the roses were still in wild profusion in the rose garden. The sculptures were fun, for a bit, but a little Moore goes a long way.

What got me, no surprise, was the exhibit of chrysanthemums, done in cooperation with Shinjuku Gyoen. The amazing blooms trained in rows like so many Japanese schoolchildren was a flashback to my autumn days in Tokyo. And then we saw the Sogetsu Sukkah. No, it isn't really a sukkah. But many Sogetsu ikebana masters like to make large arrangements with bamboo. The last head of the school, the late Hiroshi Teshigahara (also film director, whose Woman in the Dunes was an existentialist masterpiece) loved to make large, sculptural arrangements with bamboo. And this one, by Tetsunori Kawana, is clearly in that tradition. Standing under the tangle of a roof, held up by simple poles, I realized you could see just enough sky for this roof to be right for a sukkah. All the installation needed were bamboo blinds hung on the sides to serve as walls. And maybe tatami mats for dinner on the floor.

Comrades: The Gay Chinese Film Festival in NYC this Weekend

One of the finest films on the subject of sexuality and oppression will be shown at the opening of the Chinese LGBT Film Festival, Friday at the LGBT Center in NYC. East Palace West Palace ranks up there with Genet's The Balcony as an examination of how sex, identity and power relationships are expressed not only in personal relationships but in polities. And it is an examination of how the state becomes a presence in the bedroom, and in the fantasies, of its citizens.

The story is simple: a policeman arrests and interogates a man who was cruising in one of Beijing's most notoriously busy public toilets. What happens is anything but simple and delivers an emotionally searing experience. The really amazing thing is that it got past the Chinese censors because they didn't understand how politically subversive the film is.

However, if you tend to like action films, East Palace West Palace is not for you. Like many foreign films, it moves slowly, developing a powerful emotional punch quietly. This is not the American was of film making, and for that reason, it didn't really find an audience when it had its theatrical release in NYC ten years ago.

This is a rare chance to see it again, in a room filled with Chinese gay men (be still my heart) who will no doubt be eager to talk about it afterwards with an intelligence and insight you won't have access to if you watch it at home on DVD alone.

I am only sorry to say that I am out of town this weekend, or I would be there myself to see the film again, and to enjoy the fantasy of finding a Chinese husband (you can apply here by emailing me anyway!).   

I remember the first time I saw art work by Joe Brainard

I was standing in a store on Spring St. in Manhattan called Untitled that sold art post cards. Some time in the mid 70s I went there and bought several dozen — 10 of which I laid out on my bed with the intention of creating a narrative from the images and then writing a little chapter of the story on the back of each to mail to a boyfriend who was away at college in Bennington. One of the postcards I didn't use was the one above, which was a limited edition postcard created by Joe Brainard. I didn't even know who he was or that he was an artist and a poet.

Around the same time, I started reading poetry by the New York School after coming across some poems from the group in Mouth of The Dragon. And it led me to Brainard's memoir, I Remember.... This hypnotically beautiful mantra of memories moved me greatly. It didn't shy away from his queer life and loves, juxtaposing the most soul stirring moments with the absolutely everyday — all related in a way that spoke to all the senses. What is so amazing is that this poem has become the template for teachers in schools around the country for teaching children how to write poetry (minus the racier bits).

What a handsome man he was. I first saw a photo of him at a retrospective of his  work  that traveled the country — I happened to see it at a museum in Berkeley. Recently a book was published of his artwork that centered around a popular 20th Century comic character, Nancy. If you don't know his work, go take a look at his website. You'll be surprised to discover just how much of his work informed everything that came after him — and how much of his work inspired Warhol. I actually think Brainard was the wittier and more accomplished artist — Warhol was just more of a merchant and showman than Brainard was interested in being.  If you like what you see of JB's work, you should also check out the site of his friend and sometime companion, Kenward Elmslie.

Gay Athletes, Oral Sex and Advertising

There's a provocative headline to introduce this rather amusing print ad for a gay bar in Prague. The Gym Sports Bar down on 8th Avenue in Chelsea has never done anything this playful. Of course given the history that many gay bars in NYC are basically still run by organized crime, it's no surprise the ads are simply about the beef, with hardly any playfulness at all (btw that's no reflection on the ownership of Gym Bar, which I've been to all of once and decided, uh, this is why I hate straight bars, why have a gay bar like this?).

Kudos to EuroRSCG for this ad, posted, as usual, at adsoftheworld, where the ad posted next to it, presented an even more amusing juxtaposition as you can see below. Perhaps the guy eating the Snickers bar needs more practice taking it all. All the more interesting is that the ad is for Snickers — the controversy surrounded that homophobic advertising debacle was chronicled over at joemygod.

Gay Youth to GLYNY Again: A Queer Odyssey

The first generation of post-Stonewall gay and lesbian youth made an important contribution to the generation that followed. And they in turn passed their contributions on...in GLYNY...Gay & Lesbian Youth New York. And they in turn...well, Out At The Center captures it all here:

I'm just proud to be in this lineage and that we continue to do good work in the community.

Plasticized Bodies, Advertising and the Illegal Trade in Organs

JWT in Shanghai is running some ads to convince the Chinese to donate organs, with a campaign for the Red Cross that shows organs with bodies inside

Am I on drugs or is there something really bizarre and disturbing about an organ donation campaign running in a country where prisoners have their organs removed (sometimes before execution) for sale?

The ad above, one of several, is supposed to be lungs though it looks like kidneys to me (does it remind you of the humans in pods in The Matrix?).  Others show livers and hearts. And it is true that is a shortage of organs for transplant. Only 50 to 60 kidneys are replaced a year in Hong Kong while the waiting list for transplants numbers around 500. But according to Human Rights Watch/Asia, about 2 to 3 thousand organs a year are cut from the bodies of executed Chinese prisoners. This is state sponsored theft (and desecration). I guess the ad campaign is encouraging private citizens to get a piece of the action, since transplant services are readily available to high ranking Party officials and cash-paying foreigners. Of course, there are those unfortunates who have their organs stolen. I seem to recall reading a science fiction novel about this in the 60s. Anyone recall what that might have been?

Here in New York City we have not avoided this controversy. Last year, 20/20 reported that the plasticized bodies in the extremely popular Bodies exhibit at the South Street Seaport were executed Chinese prisoners. The German doctor who invented the process that used to put these human bodies being put on display around the world, says he has stopped using bodies from China because some of them shows signs of torture. The exhibit in NYC now offers refunds after a lawsuit by the state attorney general.

I don’t know how much Chinese citizens know about the Bodies exhibit, but it certainly isn’t news on the street in Shanghai that there’s an illegal traffic in stolen organs. So what they must think when they see these ads? And what was the team at JWT thinking?

Oh yes, the images are striking, and you have to look at them. True. And that’s the first job of advertising — to get you to stop and pay attention. But this doesn’t go on to persuade me of anything other than being certain not to accept drinks from strangers in a Shanghai bar.

That's the advertising exec speaking. Now let's hear from the Jewish Buddhist. One of the many meditations taught by the Buddha was the charnel ground meditation — one was supposed to sit amidst the burned and decomposing bodies to meditate on the impermanence of one's own body. In the Buddha's time, there were places where the remains were left to decompose or be eaten by wild animals. Because there are no charnel grounds in New York City — or much anywhere anymore — Buddhist monks have been going to the Bodies exhibit to take on this meditation. Certainly seeing these bodies is a powerful experience of the fragility and impermanence of our physical nature.

However the Jew in me recoils at this practice — and at the exhibit. Just as a living person is the image of the Divine, so to the remains, which should have its integrity, at least until it naturally decomposes. This very reaction is interesting though. The Buddhist in me says this is about attachment to the body. So I'm going to have to sit with this. Perhaps I will use the JWT ads as a meditation mandala on this subject.