White Buddhist Race Talk

"Think of all the violence and oppression it has taken to “settle” the continent during colonialism. And then consider how this process of “settling” has been internalized generation after generation. Every non-indigenous group has ingested some of this poison, which in my view, also appears whenever racial discussions get heated, divided, and/or shut down. Given that white folks have been at the top of colonial pyramid in North America and elsewhere, our commonplace, default responses to “race talk” are to seek “settlement.” Some aim to put it all in the past. Some aim to create a definitive list of “good guys and bad guys” and then work to position themselves as one of the former. Some aim to defend themselves and the status quo. While some simply aim to avoid it all together. Regardless of the form, what I notice is the desire to have it all settled. Finalized. Done. Which mimics colonization itself. Both in the violence of it, and also the way in which it seeks to control collective stories. To suggest that there must be a single, final way to view reality and how we are together."

You can read more, including a lot of discussion in the comments section, here.

A Short Note to Any White American Buddhists, Yoga Practitioners, or Others Who Feel Threatened By "White Supremacy" Discussions

I wrote these points as a response to comments I received on an old post on American Buddhism and race. In light of the Trayvon Martin case, and the seemingly endless rounds of back and forth about all things race and racism, I'm offering them again.

1. Respond to criticism or perceived criticism of your spiritual practice by practicing.

2. Many of us white folks "overdo" race talk. Few of us are willing to sit with race like a koan, listen for whatever wisdom is there "behind the curtain," and then speak from that.

3. Minimizing, denying, blaming, trying to "fix," and/or judging are the standard forms of acting out in response to something we don't like, or don't want to hear. Knowing that, now what?

4. If I choose to not listen to the pain and suffering beneath someone's words today, they’ll be someone else expressing something similar tomorrow.

5. Forget trying to get all your ducks in a row. You have to act, or not act, as it is, moment after moment.

And I'll add a number six to this list.

6. Racism is ultimately a heart/mind issue. Both on the individual level, and also collective level. It's poisons can't be removed by rational debate and statistics.

"White Space" - Considering Race and Racism in American Zen Sanghas

This post about the 50th Anniversary celebration of San Francisco Zen Center has haunted me since I first read it. The whole thing is worth reading, more than once. For most white practitioners, it probably will take several reads and plenty of contemplation to truly get a sense of all the layers being expressed. Forgive me if that sounds nasty; I'm just keenly aware these days how slow the process of decolonization seems to be. Over and over again, I'm running into well meaning, intelligent white folks - people who look exactly like me - that turn away, act defensive, or posture that we live in a post racial world the moment race is brought into a discussion.

Anyway, back to Sistah Vegan's post.

Yes, overall I really enjoyed the event last night. Great celebration and memories of the Zen center’s past 50 years. Green Gulch Zen Center is beautiful and I have developed amazing relationships there, so I thank the co-founders for making these sites possible. I deeply appreciate what I have learned from Zen Buddhism and the practice’s impact on how I constantly try to be mindful and compassionate– including how I try to teach largely white racialized subjects about systemic whiteness and structural racism. But I have to admit that I am quite disappointed in the mistake of seeing Simone as Angela Davis because that ‘mistake’ potentially represents an overall problem of recognizing the impact of a homogenous Zen fellowship: what does racial homogeneity do to the collective white racialized subject’s consciousness if they participate in a mostly white (and quite financially stable) Buddhist fellowship in a nation in which whiteness is privileged? I actually wish that white dominated Buddhist fellowships would add a rule that everyone has to participate in ‘mindfulness whiteness ‘ sesshins. It would be great if an added tenet to Buddhism, for such congregations, could be, “We shall learn about how structural racism and whiteness impact our Zen practice. We shall be open and loving to transforming ourselves and not become angry as we learn about how white racial formation has deeply affected our Zen hearts.”

First off, mindfulness whiteness sesshins would be a great practice. I fully endorse that idea.

Beyond this, though, there are so many aspects of convert American Zen practice communities that are taken as basic forms and approaches, but actually are rather white in conception. The commonplace blending of psychotherapy with Zen teachings. The curious relationship with the Asian ancestry, which is often either demonstrated through an attempt to strictly adhere to "Asian" forms or a nearly complete rejection of those same forms as "unnecessary," and/or "cultural baggage." In fact, the very manner in which Zen centers are laid out - the use of space - is often "white" in ways that are completely invisible to most of us white folks. Professor John Powell has written a fair amount about "white space." Here's one of his articles, which points out how "public" and "private" space in the U.S. was historically - and continues to some extent to be - divided along racially determined lines and understandings of space.

Speaking of space, over the past year, our sangha has been considering whether to move from our current location or not. As the head of the board, I have been at the center of all of these conversations, a placement that - as a white male - hasn't been lost upon me. I'm finding myself struggling with the tone and tenor of many of our conversations. Over and over again, the issues of "noise" and "disappearing parking" seem to dominate the day. Over the winter, during the board's annual retreat, an initial vision of sangha was produced by a subsection of the board that felt to me, and a few others, like a privileged image. It was essentially a cute, little building on top of a hill with a rolling stream cutting through the front of the location. Although that image was rejected, given that we intend to stay in the city, there still seems to be a strong sense of "needing" to be in a "quiet" neighborhood with lots of available parking and other amenities. The strongest voices advocating for this are long term members who are regular meditation retreat practitioners - nearly all of them white and solidly middle or upper middle class.

As one of the financially poorest members of the community, it's difficult not to think about how class comes into the picture. And when I think about the kinds of images being brought up around space, they correspond directly with predominantly white, middle and upper middle class neighborhoods. Consistent quietness in the city is intimately connected with how white folks with means use space. It's not what you find in poorer neighborhoods, and it's not what you find in mixed race, mixed income neighborhoods. At least here in the Twin Cities. In those neighborhoods, more people are regularly outside. Doing things in groups. Making noise. Having fun. Some are causing trouble too. But the main thing is that the space of the neighborhood is more actively used as public. Shared. Church parking lots double as farmer's markets and playgrounds. People more regularly gather on front lawns or porches. Even the front ends of privately owned shops often serve as gathering spots for those that frequent them.

Furthermore, the emphasis on cars, and parking, feels classed and somewhat raced as well. We have a new light rail train going in that ends right at the doorstep of our current location. The conversation around it has mostly been about the potential noise factor. The few conversations we've had where the train might be a vehicle for bringing in new members, or easing the commute for some current members, quickly sputtered. It's not that people can't see the possible value of a train or public transit; it's mostly that few of them will really consider using it regularly, and aren't really thinking much about folks who do use public transit (like myself) as a significant portion of membership. We, as a group, are off the radar. And the handful of folks like myself that self identify as bikers and public transit riders are mostly considered an anomaly.

I'm not questioning my fellow sangha member's sense that meditation retreats are difficult when there is nightly music right behind one of the walls, and when there is construction going on during the day outside our windows. What I am questioning is the movement from the extremes of our current location - which may require us to relocate - to a set of visions that are essentially devoid of many of the elements that make up urban living.

Oh, and then there's the desire for a better kitchen. Why? Primarily so that the cooking being done for meditation retreats goes smoother, is easier. I've heard next to no talk about, for example, wanting a better kitchen so we could cook more community meals, or to perhaps have a soup kitchen for homeless folks, and any other shared eating activity beyond retreats. Wanting a better kitchen for activity that takes up approximately 3-7 days a month, and involves between 7-20 members of the community, feels like a really limited vision for a kitchen. And an expensive need as well.

All of which makes me wonder who it is that our community really desires to serve. Are we yet another white, middle class organization with a great inclusiveness policy, but which is still driven by the desires of it's white, middle and upper middle class members? What does it mean to want to be located "in the city," and yet also want to avoid at least some of what makes up what I would call a vibrant city? There are great Buddhist sanghas located in cities all over Asia. Some of them also have sister temples located in rural areas, in the manner that San Francisco Zen Center has emulated.

I don't have any definitive answers or conclusions at this point. We are really in the middle of the process. A part of me wonders if I should post this, and that's exactly why I am going to post it. I am deeply grateful to my Zen sangha as it is and, as Suzuki Roshi said, "it could use a little improvement." May we find a more enlightened way forward.

The Appearance of White American Buddhists

I have to say that the explosion over the post by Tassja over at Womanist Musings has jolted me. You'll have to forgive me for not moving on yet. Because I'm not moving on yet.

Given my life experience, race and racism are never far from my awareness. However, the genuine nastiness, callousness, and defensiveness that have come in response to this single article has been a reminder of just how screwed up people still are when it comes to race.

This morning, I read the following, a post by another young woman of color offering her own take, and standing with Tassja in the process.

I would like to tell you how Buddhism influences my father’s treatment of his patients, every one of whom are criminally insane. I would like to tell you how Buddhism plays a role in the way my mother lends the money she doesn’t have to spare. I would like to tell you of how Buddhism sustained my aunt through the famine and my uncle through the war—I would like to tell you how it gave some measure of peace to those who did not survive.

Because this is what we mean when we say that Buddhism flows in our blood.

I would like to tell you, but I am afraid. I am afraid of you Barbara O’Brien, Kyle Lovett, and Anonymous Commenter. I have a bone-deep fear of the things you will say about my father, my mother, my aunts and uncles, my cousins, my grandparents, and my three-year-old brother. I am terrified because I can see my future in what you are presently doing to Tassja.

You might tell me that Buddhism belongs in the meditation center and not the hospital. You might tell me that the war is over so what does it matter. You might tell me famine is a state of mind or any number of other things equally indicative of never having helplessly watched a child starve to death. You could discount all my family’s blood, sweat, and tears and the way they flow into and out of the Buddhism I live everyday.

I don't personally know either of these women. Just as I am a disembodied person to them who writes a blog about Buddhism, they are disembodied Buddhist writers to me. We are, even with the most heartfelt, passionate of words, abstracted from each other. Which makes it that much easier to toss labels about, make casual dismissals, and generally ignore the living, breathing being behind the words trying to break through their suffering.

It's quite easy to note the demonstrated lack of compassion amongst some of the white Buddhist commentariat. One man, who claimed to have written two books on the Pali Canon and to have practiced 23 years, repeatedly referred to Tassja as a "silly cow." Another commenter suggested that she needs to find a teacher, so she can deal with her anger.

I won't go on with more examples. Some of you will, no doubt, be saying to yourself "Stop pointing fingers at others and look at yourself." And that's fine. I don't care. I have spent years facing the legacy of race, racism, whiteness, and oppression that I have inherited. And I imagine I will continue to have to face it until the day I die.

Actually, though, what's even more apparent to me, when surveying all of the responses to Tassja's post, is the deeply fragile appearance of white Buddhist practice. Notice I said "appearance" because this isn't to speak of all white convert practitioners, but to speak of how we might collectively appear to people looking in from the outside.

How we, for example, appear to fail at the most basic teachings of compassion and generosity of spirit. How we appear to be fighting a turf war, and demanding to be acknowledged as "legitimate dharma students." How we appear to spin around and around in old patterns of guilt, denial, and blame the moment someone speaks a few critical words about "our race." How we appear to be smug in our book knowledge of Buddhism. How we regularly appear to make appeals to diversity, but then flip out the moment that diversity threatens the vision we have of "Buddhist practice."

All intentions aside, this is how "we" - white American Buddhist converts - collectively appear in this conversation. And it's how "we" have collectively appeared in discussions about race, privilege, and oppression for decades. Twenty years ago, then Tricycle magazine editor Helen Tworkov made the following ludicrous statement, "so far…not figured prominently in the development of something called American Buddhism," which set off a firestorm that looks terribly similar to the smaller online version I am writing about today.

It's important to me to bear witness to the fear, sadness, anger, and suffering reflected in the voices of the Buddhists of color who either wrote blog posts like Tassja and Prajna (the author of the piece I quote above), or who left comments on these posts. Even if we have divergent views at times, we are all practicing under the umbrella of Buddha's teachings.

I offer this post as a tiny seed in the vast, seeded field of race in America. It is so much bigger than us Buddhists, but we are, like everyone else, embedded within it. It is our collective karma, to be faced or not.

May we choose to leap, again and again, into the dragon's mouth.

Responding to Criticism of Buddhist Practice by Practicing

I almost never delete a post once I put it up, but after reading and responding to a comment by Robyn, a regular reader here, I realized that most of this post needs to go. It's excess talking. So, I'm taking down the original post, and offering a few pithy statements from it that get at what I wanted to say without the confusing attempts to continue the discussion from yesterday's post.

1. Respond to criticism or perceived criticism of your spiritual practice by practicing.

2. Many of us "overdo" race talk. Few of us are willing to sit with race like a koan, listen for whatever wisdom is there "behind the curtain," and then speak from that.

3. Minimizing, denying, blaming, trying to "fix," and/or judging are the standard forms of acting out in response to something we don't like, or don't want to hear. Knowing that, now what?

4. If I choose to not listen to the pain and suffering beneath someone's words today, they’ll be someone else expressing something similar tomorrow.

5. Forget trying to get all your ducks in a row. You have to act, or not act, as it is, moment after moment.

Buddhism and Race Again

This post, written by a young woman from Sri Lanka who lives in Minnesota, has been getting a lot of attention in the Buddhist blogosphere. It's not an easy to read post. And it's gotten a bit of negative attention already, as well as dismissive comments about how she's a just a young, angry, and/or ignorant woman.

This paragraph is probably the one where the rails fall off for many white Buddhist readers.

Much like the commercialization and appropriation of Yoga serves as a profound source of anger and frustration to many South-Asian Hindus, I'm alternately befuddled and angered by white appropriation of Buddhism. No, I don't care how many times Richard Gere used his private jet to visit the Dalai Lama, stripping a belief system of its cultural context and putting it on like a pair of shoes, without acknowledging the struggles and realities of the people whom that culture belongs to, is imperialist, disrespectful, and mostly racist. The shallow ease with which Whiteness claims to understand the experiences of cultures of colour continues to bewilder me. How can you claim something as part of your identity, on par with people who grew up living and breathing that culture everyday? How can you claim to own something you've never had to defend, or fight for? And please, spare me the details of how your white Lutheran parents disapproved of your visits to the meditation center.

I'm not going to write a long commentary on the pluses and minuses of this piece.

While I don’t agree with everything she wrote, I think it’s worth really sitting with her voice if you’re a white, convert practitioner. Yes, she’s young. And yes, she doesn’t really seem to have any sense of how Buddhism has spread, and been re-invented to some extent in every place it has gone. But I have seen some quite hasty and defensive reactions to this post online already, which mirror reactions I have seen in local sanghas to issues brought up by practitioners of color.

Point blank: white practitioners need to stop defending themselves, and pay closer attention to what other Buddhists are saying and thinking. Doesn’t mean we have to agree with each other, but if people are really serious about all the “diversity” talk that goes around convert sanghas, then demonstrate it. Be willing to be with the uneasiness of conflict and difference. Be willing to accept that you might be wrong. Be willing to listen, and perhaps then, you might also be listened to.

This is one of the major pieces of work for the modern, worldwide sangha. I'm convinced of it. So, let's do it.

The Zen of Pointing at the Moon

I have been writing this blog for a little over two years now. Being a writer has been part of my life since I was a young kid scrawling goofy titles onto otherwise mundane homework assignments. So, you might say that I like to breathe life into words. To do my best to convey the world through this imperfect medium.

After some rocky efforts to explore what I'd call an alternative approach to disaster relief (see posts from the beginning of the week), and continued toe dipping as a man into the muddy world of feminist blogs, I came across this post by Arun from Angry Asian Buddhist. He writes:

Marginalization is a problem, but the issue isn’t race. I’ve typically framed the place of Asians in Western Buddhism as one where we’re marginalized by White Buddhists, but this framework glosses over the very same marginalization between different Asian communities. How often do you see Cambodian Buddhists attending Korean Zen centers, or Chinese Buddhist publications open their pages to Sri Lankan writers? And just as Asians Buddhists marginalize each other, so do White Buddhists.

One of the main themes of Arun's post is that the language he has been using failed to capture what he wanted to say. Furthermore, the language he used may have limited both his own vision, and that of his readers influenced by what he has said.

Now, my toe dipping on those feminist blogs has gone off and on for several months now. There are a lot of disagreements on these blogs, some of them extremely nasty, in part due to the same kinds of language problems. Say a word, phrase, or sentence that sounds like it supports some kind of oppression, and all hell breaks loose. On a few of those blogs, if you're a man who says it, it's almost certain all hell will break loose.

Like the race issues that lead to the argument Arun was in, gender issues are a deeply complex territory filled with people from various "schools of thought" trying to claim to have all the answers. Using language. Something that any of us Zen students worth a lick of salt know can't capture it all.

So, all of this has gotten me thinking about the ways in which people might be reading my writing, and others' writing. How I might be reading others' writing.

Writing that meta post the other day was a lot about the disaster relief discussion I was trying to have, but actually it was also about how everything I offer is partial. It's hopefully pointing in the right direction, a direction that leads towards a more liberated mind, body, and "spirit." However, even so, it's still partial, just as every last spiritual teaching on the planet is partial. Pointing to the moon, but not the moon. Right?

This doesn't mean that all writing is equally valuable. Equally helpful. Equally liberating. Some work aids moving towards liberation, while other work is just a hindrance. There's probably 1000X as much hindrance as there is liberation-centric material.

Yet, one of the things that witnessing and participating in all of these discussions has shown me is that, in order to find a way to speak, to write, in a manner that might spark liberation, a person must wade into the mud. You have to struggle to convey yourself, your understanding, your views, and your confusion - and through dialogue, experience, and even some conflict - the false and inaccurate parts are worn away, and the stone of truth comes forth.

Sometimes, this happens fairly quickly, and sometimes, it might take lifetimes. Battles over gender and race have been going on for centuries; there's no knowing if in my lifetime, enough of us will have liberated ourselves of oppressive narratives in order to shift the social tides. And regardless, it won't happen through language alone. No one can write the way to freedom for themselves, or the world. It's only one piece, an important one perhaps, but still only one form of expressing the total dynamic functioning of this life.

In fact, it's important to remember this even if someone is writing about something seemingly simple, like mindfulness while washing the dishes. That, too, might be a great lesson, or not. Perhaps they haven't found the language yet to truly express their understanding. And perhaps they're trying to express something they have no understanding or experience of at all. I've been on both those tracks. I doubt anyone is immune from doing so.

Every day is an opportunity to work with the particular mud before you, to see it and step right into it as best as you can. In my own life, writing has been one of the major tools I use to do this. It helps me to discern which mud is mine to work with, and which mud isn't.(There's plenty out there that isn't "your mud" or isn't "yours anymore," if you catch my drift.)

Maybe some of you have other major tools you use. Obviously, things like meditation and yoga would fit in here. But maybe you have other things - gardening, dancing, making music, painting - the list is probably endless. What points you in the direction of the moon (enlightened living)? And how do you offer as moon pointers to others?

I'll leave you all with a poem from Ryokan (1758-1831). Enjoy the rest of the weekend!

You stop to point at the moon in the sky,
but the finger's blind unless the moon is shining.

One moon, one careless finger pointing --
are these two things or one?

The question is a pointer guiding
a novice from ignorance thick as fog.

Look deeper. The mystery calls and calls:
No moon, no finger -- nothing there at all.

Yoga Activism and its Discontents

I have been reading and commenting on some fascinating posts about yoga and social action, including this one and this one. It's a fascinating discussion that really, in my opinion, shows the many struggles to merge spiritual practice with social action in the larger world. Please go over and read the posts and the comments that follow each for more details.

The following issues struck me as noteworthy.

1. Many commenters slammed the author of the Tikkun post, Be Scoefield, as having an overly aggressive, shaming, and mean-spirited tone. While I think he makes unsubstantiated generalizations in places, I honestly feel that much of the "tone argument" is really a smokescreen for hurt feelings and bewilderment as to why the author is criticizing the work of the program in question, Off the Mat. Perhaps I'm just missing something here.

2. The responses of one of the program's trainers, Nikki Myers, are troubling, especially given the influence someone in her position would probably have with participants.

Her first response offers some clarification of one of the programs in question.

There seems to be some confusion about the OTM programs that you “investigated”. The 7 week program is designed to help people uncover their passion and how they can turn that into action within there local communities. Many outstanding projects have been created from this work all over the united states. One of which is the blossoming of my project the yoga of 12 step recovery, serving those affected by addiction.

The Seva Challenge is designed to mobilize the yoga community into action. Not sure what you mean by exotic, but that is certainly not what I would call working in a toxic garbage dump in Cambodia or laying bricks in the pouring rain while building a school in Uganda.

This is helpful in terms of showing that Scofield's focus on the international part of the program is only one facet of the work being done. However, Ms. Myers moves on into suggesting that the entire post made by Mr. Scofield is about the author's personal failings and hangups.

Your blog on spiritual activism seemed to focus a lot on activism with little emphasis on spirituality. Spirituality and healingis a huge component of the work in the 5 day intensive. This program takes into consideration the emotional well being and motivation of a person who wants to serve. It recognizes that without the tools to process the shadow aspect, it is their shadow that motivates their action. This leads to reactivity, judgement, shut down, defensiveness and burn out – the tone of which was evident in the blog as well as in the comments where you openly took ownership for your emotional fatigue and the resulting reactions. . This is precisely the work that OTM suggests that those who choose to engage in outreach consider because these are the tools necessary for activism to be done from a place of equanimity, patience and respect. The inner work reflects upon the outer work. This is precisely the environment I recommend you explore for clearly the work you’ve done is a reflection of your own shut down. Unfortunately with your intelligence and incredibly capable skills, you can create more harm than good when what is driving you is unresolved anger.

Scofield responds to this by saying:

Myself and others have been wondering about how and when feminist, cultural awareness and power dynamics factor into the trainings. What texts, articles, ideas, methods, workshops and teachings are presented. Again, I haven’t found it yet.

And he receives the following from Ms. Myers in response to his question:

I can’t help wondering why it is so important for you to examine articles, text, publications, etc. Given your writings, perspective, and history of taking things out of context – why would OTM ever offer to show you anything? Besides that, who made you the sheriff? This occurs to me as arrogance gone wild. Please consider taking the training.

I don't know if there is a history with this particular writer concerning the OTM organization which is playing into the defensiveness of this response. If there is a history, then I would respond quite differently to what I am seeing. But as it stands, it's troubling to see an important member of an organization that portrays itself as dedicated to "seva" (self-less service) responding to criticisms in such an un-reflective, defensive manner. Certainly, there are probably issues with the way Mr. Scoefield portrayed the organization, but it's the job of the organization (in my view) to demonstrate the teachings it claims to live in handling such criticisms. Or to simply ignore such criticisms if they are deemed not worthy of consideration for some reason.

Along these lines, someone else from the OTM organization offers a critique of the post, which I felt brought up a lot of valid concerns, including his mistaken assumption that all of the leadership and participants in the programs are white women. However, towards the end of the response is this, directed towards Mr. Scofield:

Are you aware that your continued assertion (and assumption) of our
race, gender and socio-economic circumstance places you in the same
racist, elitist and unconscious position that you claim us to stand?
Through all these judgments and uninformed opinions, you simply created
an unnecessary division, when you could have chosen to use your
experience and education to inform us on how to proceed with even more
awareness and sensitivity. We could have benefited from your support
and information, and would have appreciated useful suggestions to
improve our work. You could’ve been a great ally, but instead you chose
to perpetuate separation; and ultimately that is the divisive tool that
creates conflict and undermines the connectivity within each other and
the world.

What I find astounding is that the view that the author "could have been an ally," but apparently blew it because his article wasn't the kind of critique they were receptive to. Unless this man has a history of attacking the organization, I don't understand how such a swift dismissal fits into the values and mission OTM claims to represent.

How often does anyone present their criticisms or misgivings well the first time around? How many of us can say we have sorted out all of the personal hangups we have from the valid concerns we want to present before doing so? Maybe this was a case where the author should have sat a little longer on his concerns to make sure he had some clarity. However, sometimes you have to say something as best as you can, and then wade through the mess that follows.

As a yoga practitioner and zen student who is deeply interested in bringing my practice into the world in a socially engaged way, I want to see projects like Off the Mat succeed. It's wonderful to see yoga practitioners like Seane Corn actually attempt to do powerful work, and buck the commercialized, self-focused trend in much of the North American yoga community. Off the Mat is a new organization doing something uncommon in its field, and as such, it's important for anyone offering criticism to also offer patience. Having helped start a service organization from scratch myself, I know how challenging it is in the initial years, especially when it comes to having a clear direction and focus that actually represents the sincere intentions behind its founding. Sometimes, it takes years for a group to figure out how to actually clarify how to manifest their intentions in the world, so I recognize that OTM is probably in such a process.

But this is exactly why it's important now for them to be open to reflections, criticisms, and ideas from others. Being open doesn't mean you have to agree with everything others critique you for or suggest you change, but it does mean that you should do your best to listen to what people have say about your developing programs, and then decide how best to respond. The responses from those who represent the OTM organization on Scofield's post fail, in my opinion, to demonstrate such openness.

Race, Racism, and the Buddhoblogosphere

As seems to be the case about every three or four months, there has been a lot of discussion in the Buddhoblogosphere about race, racism, and dharma practice. It's very telling how race and racism tend to tip over people who otherwise demonstrate clear thinking and compassion in their words. People just struggle terribly with these issues.

Obviously, the generations and generations of hatred and ignorance spawned by both individual and systemic racism aren't going to suddenly disappear. It's going to take a hell of a lot more listening, a hell of a lot more refraining from spouting off from whatever woundedness we each have, and a hell of a lot more willingness to change (individually and collectively) in order for a more just world to emerge.

Here are a few quotes from different posts addressing the race and racism. The first is from a more secular source, the blog Feministe. Tami, a woman of color, writes:

Today, when an “ism” shows its face, too much public sympathy rests with the offender and not the offended. As I’ve written before, in these times, hearing someone branded a racist is likely to upset more folks than encountered racism. Stick any bias in there–sexism, homophobia, transphobia, xenophobia…and the result is the same. It is, I think, the way the status quo defends itself when it gets tired of treating certain people equally.

One thing I will quibble with is labeling "people" racist because it's really a particular set of thoughts, words, and actions that are racist, and not any entire person. In addition, anyone wanting to have a dialogue with others whose thoughts, words, and/or actions are racist probably shouldn't begin with labeling said folks "racist."

With that said, I really find Tami's points so painfully true, at least in the United States right now. The reality, President Obama notwithstanding, is that the lion's share of power and privilege in this country still lies with white folks, individually and collectively. The historical legacy, which continues to play out today, very clearly favored white Americans in every sense from the nation's founding. This is our collective karma, whether you like it or not. As a white male, even though I have had my struggles, and have experienced direct injustice, it in no way, shape or form is equivalent to that of people of color living in my nation. I don't walk around feeling guilty about this, but I do make every effort to listen, pause, and re-examine my views around these issues - precisely because as a member of the most privileged group in my society, it's so easy for me not to. Just as the practice of meditation might be viewed as a radical act in a society addicted to speed and instant gratification, so, too, I think is the act of remaining vigilant about race and racism when everything in society supports doing the opposite.

Adam, over at Fly Like a Crow, recently wrote this:

Recently, a fellow blogger Kyle wrote a bit about race and privilege and then there was quite a discussion in the comments. Check it out if you want, though you won’t see any comments by me.

That’s because I don’t want to talk about race. I know that it is an important issue. I know that issues about race are bound to come up when dealing with Buddhism, bloggers, and inflated egos on the internet. Some of these discussions are very important. But I don’t want any part of them. And it has nothing to do with the fact that I’m white. I’ve simply had it with issues of race. (and yes, I understand the irony of this post)

I think most every has had it with issues of race. I know I have. I'd love to dump all the samsara on the planet into a garbage can and go on with my life, too, but it's not going to happen.

Before you take this as a condemnation of Adam's view, I think it's important to recognize that where he is coming from right now is a place all of us have been about some issue or another in our lives. Exhaustion and burn out happen, and during those times, it's best to do what you can to rest. I think it's important when considering large scale social issues that have impacted people for generations, to realize that they require a wide variety of responses over a very long period of time from many, many, many people. No one person will end racism and the suffering behind it. And I really think that sometimes, the most appropriate response one can offer is simply to offer metta to all beings during your meditation - that we all may be liberated from the misery of racism.

On the other hand, it's vitally important to recognize that opportunities to rest are not equivalent. I remember what it was like to be a white teenager hanging out on the streets, in parks, at school, and in other public places with black and latino teenagers. Whenever authority figured entered the picture, it was rarely I who had pressure or heavy questioning placed upon me. And it was often I who received comments like "You're smart. You should do something more with your life than hang around with these guys." In fact, some of those guys even said as much, never mind that they were intelligent and capable themselves. When I behaved "badly" or questionably, the presence of my "smarts" alone seemed to allow me a pass most of the time with teachers, school administration, and other authorities that came into my life. The same wasn't true for my friends of color.

So, I'm convinced that both the opportunity to rest, and the quality of that rest, are privileged. Race, class, gender, and sexual orientation all play roles in how much opportunity people have to step away from any given social problem that's impacting their lives. (Hint: every social problem impacts all of us, regardless of who we are.)

The wonderful thing about Buddhist teachings is that even though these disparities are present, anyone, from any background, can learn to how to rest better, listen better, respond better - and most importantly, anyone can be liberated through practice, regardless of circumstances.

However, part of awakening in my view is learning to be fully present to our conditioning, to see that how we are cannot be divorced from the history of where we grew up, as well as the actual people and places we experienced.

Maia, over at Jizo Chronicles, provides some of this wider perspective in comments she wrote right after Hurricane Katrina five years ago. As the people down there continue to struggle in many ways, it's vital to continue to consider why it is that certain groups in certain places are allowed to suffer more than others.

To witness the travesty that has been New Orleans over these past five days is heartbreaking beyond belief. And outrageous.

Phrases comes to my mind, and at first I thought them too inflammatory to write here. But I will anyway, because I want to wake us up. I want to wake myself up. Genocide. Ethnic Cleansing. Economic Cleansing. What else to call it when thousands of poor, Black people are allowed to die in front of our eyes? And not just any death – excruciating deaths, brought about by lack of food, water… drowning deaths because people have waited for rooftop rescues which never came, and while they watched other corpses float by… children dying, old people dying, disabled people dying.

The really sad thing is, I’m not sure much has changed since August 2005.

May all beings be safe.

And may we all be liberated. Peace.

First "Western" Female Priest in the Nichiren Order

A few bloggers have already posted the link to this article, but I think it's worth repeating.

Editor's Note: Buddhist Myokei Caine-Barrett is the first woman of African-Japanese descent, and the only Western woman, to be ordained as a priest in the Nichiren Order. She is the resident priest and guiding teacher for the Myoken-ji Temple, home of the Nichiren Buddhist Sangha of Texas. She talks about her journey to Buddhism in "The Black Pulpit," a weekly series that explores faith in the black community.

Caine-Barrett goes on to speak of her wide ranging spiritual path, beginning with Biblical stories and taking her into a Nichiren community. The last two paragraphs, I think, are especially important, given the continual bubbling up of discussions about race, racism, and "Western" sanghas.

The practice of Buddhism has much to offer communities of color; however, it may be difficult to find teachers and practitioners with the necessary experience. There is no national directory. We exist in myriad traditions and cities throughout the U.S. Ordination in many traditions is often difficult and expensive, and finding teachers willing and able to address issues relative to being African-American is sometimes impossible.

Yet, progress is being made as we create sanghas within communities of color and assume the roles of clergy and lay teachers. It is definitely time for practitioners of color to step up and make ourselves known. Our communities need us to be present now.

Zen, Rats, and Landmines

After all this discussion about American Zen scandals, and whether there is a need for institutional oversight or not, I offer the following post excerpt from the Buddhist Geeks website:

The dojo of Morogoro

Africa. Is it possible to make a Soto Zen sangha flourish in a small rural town in Eastern Africa? Apparently, it is. This article describes the dojo of Morogoro town, in rural Tanzania, but also explores my feelings of amazement when I visited it. For years, I have asked myself how to reconcile the need to attend the sangha back home, in Europe, with my deep passion to work in developing countries as a humanitarian nutritionist.

In February this year, during a sesshin in Spain, I asked my Zen Master Roland Yuno: “…I have lived for many years in developing countries and I have realized that my practice has become stiff, lonely and sometimes sterile because of the absence of a sangha. Soon I will go back home to Kenya and I do not know what I should do really”. The Master, in the most direct and easy way ever, popped up the solution I had been seeking for years (and I never dared to ask): “Well, my Belgian disciple lives in Tanzania (neighboring Kenya!). He also works in humanitarian activities, and has set up a sangha. He is an ordained monk. Why not get in touch with him?”

A few months later, I started my two-day journey from Nairobi to Morogoro, a pleasant small town in a green hilly region of inland Tanzania. An appointment was previously arranged with the responsible of the only Soto Zen sangha existing in this part of this huge continent.

It's totally fascinating to me how Soto Zen, a school of Buddhism slowly disappearing in it's native Japan, has been popping up on nearly every other continent in the world, often in places you wouldn't imagine it to do so. Anchorage, Alaska, Sao Paolo, Brazil, and Morogoro, Tanzania, just to name three locales, are all home to Soto Zen temples. Pretty wild, don't you think?

In February, I did a post on Buddhism in South Africa. Like that post, I do think there are some potentially challenging issues around race and class that could be present in the post quoted from above. The author himself points to this when he says the following:

I met with one of the Tanzanian guys, Francis, nineteen years of age and studying to become a tourist operator. He answered with a question to my question about the reason why he practiced Zen: “Why do all you wazungu (white men in Kiswahili) keep on asking me why I practice? A German guy visiting us here asked the same thing a few months ago. Zen helps me. That is it”. Thanks Francis, good lesson you gave me.

It's excellent that this white European guy was able to take a quick race lesson from a Tanzanian teenager, but it does make me wonder what will happen when black African Soto Zen practitioners become "seasoned" enough to be teachers and sangha leaders? Will their white European teachers be as generous and supportive as many of the Asian immigrant teachers were, and continue to be, to their primarily white American students?

The author's sincerity and excitement about Zen practice in both Tanzania, and in Kenya, where he now lives, is infectious. And clearly there are people coming to practice. I will be interested to see what happens over the coming years, if Soto Zen will be a point of convergence for a multiracial, shared-leadership kind of practice, or if it will become yet another battleground of race and class.

Many bows to the experiment. May it continue to go well.

*photo is of Alfredo Adamo, a member of a team working with trained rats to rid Tanzania of unexploded landmines. The Zen teacher leading the temple there, Bart Weetjens, wrote the following paper about the project. Zen, rats, and landmines are a combination almost beyond the imagination, yet there it is, in real life.

"This Trans Formative Shit Called Zen"

John's blog, Sweep the Dust, Push the Dirt has been home to some interesting guest posts. (The idea of having people guest post is also a nice way to keep your blog running when you don't have much new to say.) I wanted to share today's guest post because it was enjoyable, and a different perspective on Zen.

Here's a juicy snippet to get you started:

Typically, when Black folks have problems, we don’t sit and we don’t go to therapy. Some drink, some use drugs, some sit around hating the world. But we almost always end up in church. We’ve learned generation after generation to look up, not in. The church is like going home after a long vacation. My momma, her mamma, their grand mamma and all them, go to church. Everybody knows and it doesn’t have to be explained. And if your next question is ‘knows what?”, that is exactly my point. People who look like you, care about you, and sometimes gossip about you, welcome you with open arms. This home away from home is usually in the middle of a neighborhood that people move out of as soon as they can. They are not just in the neighborhood, they are a part of it. From feeding the hungry to neighborhood legal clinics.

I’ve yet to come across a “help the local community,” “grassroots” type of activity organized by Buddhist. I am unaware of any Zen centers in a neighborhood where I can guarantee there is a church. So how exactly are my fellow sufferers with no money, nothing but problems and no inkling of the world outside of their own neighborhood going to discover this trans formative shit called Zen?

Enjoy!