More thoughts on the fallout from Rutgers

I have prided myself on being a bridge-builder across political and theological divides. With regards to gay rights, I am clear on a couple of things. For example, I know that being gay is not a choice. I know that when we can live in a world where we not fear the scorn of friends or the rejection of our family or faith because of our sexual orientation, we can be a healthier presence in the world. At the same time, I do not think that being gay absolves us from the responsibilities in our community to be good stewards, to bear witness to the richness and diversity of the glbt community, and that we can do what we can to support future generations regardless of whether we have children or not. One thing I cannot say with 100% authority is whether being gay or not is a sin. I truly do not believe it is, and no one can convince me that it is, but, ultimately, no one living on this earth is the ultimate authority of this.

The recent Rutgers case of invasion of privacy and suicide, and the public reaction to it, has had me thinking about all of these things, as much of our media and community have entered into some serious soul-searching. Some are looking for blame, and certainly the two students who engaged in the invasion of privacy should not be let off the hook. By the same token, perhaps the young man who took his life should share some of the responsibility for this as well. There are many of us who have felt intense pain and shame, but took into consideration the feelings of others in our decisions to plug on. Things that lead to suicide are rarely simple causal equations, but a myriad of complexities. I know this can sound incredibly cold, and I by no means discount the intensity of pain that can exist, but I also think it is important to not overly-victimize and glorify someone who takes his own life, and to state unequivocally that were it not for this act the outcome would have been different. There is often much more to the story. There can be too many copy-cats.

But beyond looking at this saga in a vacuum, or even in the lens of a university campus, I can't help but look at this through a macro-lens and think, well, what do you expect? We live in a world where gays and lesbians are routinely considered "less than equal". There are open community conversations about the worthiness and rights of gays and lesbians, and people in well-placed positions of power feel no qualms about denying gays and lesbians equality. Everything from Don't Ask/Don't Tell, to gay marriage, to child adoption create opportunities to reinforce the societal imprint that we are second-class citizens. Preachers and congregants in countless churches talk openly about the sinful life of gays. Quakers are no exception, as is evidenced by this letter. Lest we think that liberal Friends are absolved from this, even the most well-meaning of Friends can easily dehumanize glbt folks with the kindest of terms, but still talking about "them" as if we are not in the room. Even the recent study about the high-rates of HIV in the gay community and the reaction of the media are players in the dehumanization process, as written about here.

I can't help but think that righteous indignation and attacking of whole groups (such as the Mormon Church in this case) because of the heinous acts and words of some within those groups may actually hinder the ability to reach out with compassion, healing, support and love that is missing from all of this. I think we all could benefit from taking a deep breath and see, that, outside of this Rutgers incident, we all share a responsibility to see that situations like this do not get repeated. Our whole society works in concert to perpetuate the second-class citizenship of the glbt community. It's not any one church; it's our collective society, and many of us play into the process in subtle ways - even when we over-generalize our "glbt" friends. We just have to recognize that, as long as we do this, it gives license to those who choose to prey on the vulnerable for personal gain can do so against glbt folks. If we can recognize this, then we can start to hold each other accountable in our words and actions as we work towards that better place.

"Anti-Bullying" vs. "Kindness"

I was pleased and proud earlier this week to see my old school, Rutgers, embarking on a two-year effort to cultivate small acts of courtesy and compassion. So it was with tragic irony to read the story of the RU freshman who apparently took his own life after his roommate and her girlfriend got video footage of him with another male student having sex and spread it on the internet.

Predictably, it is easy to quickly line up and talk about how awful the two students are who did this, and that this is another example of how the attacks on the glbt youth have to stop. Human Rights Campaign sent an e-mail asking people to sign a petition to send to Education Secretary Arne Duncan demanding that sexual identity and gender orientation should be included in anti-bullying curriculum.

I am not a big fan of this approach. First, I have never thought that "anti-" campaigns are effective. They tend to doubly reinforce negative imagery, without promoting a vision of what we should move to (I've felt the same about the "War is not the Answer" campaign - war is the only image this sentence evokes). Second, if anti-bullying were really going to be successful, shouldn't the object be irrelevant. If we give a list of who should not be bullied, does that mean anyone not on the list is fair game?

Consider, instead, what Dan Savage is starting. In an NYTimes interview, he talked about a new web-program that shows gay teens images and stories of happy gay adults - not celebrities, but real people. I like this approach for two reasons: first, he acknowledges that there is little we can do to reach inside the school buildings with these messages for a number of reasons, and second, we don't have to wait until then. New technology allows us to connect with kids here and now. He also puts his effort into positive imagery.

To me, the main problem is not bullying, it's that we are not a very civil society, and this is both the tragedy and the opportunity that is playing out at Rutgers. The two horribly misguided teens who spread the video, to me, are part of the tragic narrative, not just two rotten eggs. They will no doubt be justly prosecuted and held accountable, but if it ends there, we all lose. We live in a voyeuristic society, and we raise kids in an education system that does little to nurture compassion. Even our service learning projects take our kids out of their community to nurture caring of outsiders, but not bringing them in. And then, of course, there is the whole media technology of violence and cruelty in news, talk shows, and video games. An "anti-bullying" curriculum doesn't stand a chance. But, a concerted effort at civility, I think, does. It must be sustained, and viewed as a rigorous exercise regimen that will start small and then build. Given our current climate, I look at it like this: we have to do an iron-man triathlon in three years, but for the last 10 we have been sitting on a couch, watching tv, eating potato chips and drinking soda. We need a good plan, but we can't magically expect to get up and run ten miles. Let's start with turning the tv off, and switching to juice and rice cakes. It's a long journey, but worth the effort.

We as a society have our work cut out for us. I don't believe in coincidences, so I think what happened at Rutgers shows that we have to make serious changes, and here's a reminder of why we need to do this. But it's not just at Rutgers. It's everywhere, including those who want to hang the two students who invaded the privacy of a fellow-student. What an opportunity to really shake the community to the need for change. Here's to hoping they can do it, and perhaps Quakers can commit to a similar path.