Yes, Virginia, there is a dove and an olive branch

While I found the breakdown of Aronofsky's use of the biblical account in the Slate article instructive, I also found that the author, Miriam Krule, covered much of what I would have if I had written this all the night I went to the movies. The film and its critics were practically screaming for a breakdown of just what appears in the Bible, so I read it again that night.

Of course, I published my own thoughts about the Watchers and the industrialization of Cain, but instead of copying Ms. Krule's format, I thought I might frame the rest of my interpretations using my old stand-by, internet comments.

Some question the purpose of comparing the film and the Bible (let alone Many Waters). "It's a myth," they say. Well, I certainly hope those same people have never criticized a director for straying from source material of a more substantial nature, like the Harry Potter series. The adaptation of novels to film is another element we must remember as we consider Noah, because all filmmakers select the material from their sources, embellishing and sometimes leaving things out altogether. Remember Hermione's pro-house elf organization, SPEW? Totally cut from the movie version...

Other commenters stress that Aronofsky was under no obligation to adhere at all to the Bible; they wade into dangerous territory, baiting each other with comments that the story is untrue or to get to the truth you must consider the epic of Gilgamesh, not the Bible. I'd rather question why viewers expect adherence to "facts" in any movie and give my conclusions about the effects of the deviations made in the film.

The changes Aronofsky made--and I do consider them changes from the biblical story--allowed for greater clarity when it comes to Noah's relationships with his family: specifically with his wife and his second son, Ham. After Noah gets drunk and Ham found him naked, the biblical account offers the most confusing part of the story:

[Noah] said, "A curse on Canaan! He will be a slave to his brothers. Give praise to the Lord, the God of Shem! Canaan will be the slave of Shem. May God cause Japheth to increase! May his descendants live with the people of Shem! Canaan will be the slave of Japheth."  - Genesis 9:25-27

Canaan of course refers to Ham and his descendants, and I'm not one of those who views these verses as evidence of sodomy. Call me optimistic. In the film, Shem and Japheth do demonstrate the biblical taboo of seeing their father naked, but Ham stays several steps away, not helping his father up. Ham has up to this point struggled with his father's mission, and I found him to be one of the most emotionally gripping characters of the entire cast. Why curse him, as Noah does in the Bible? Why does he leave, as he does in the film?

As a younger sister, this preference of one son (or two) over another has always bugged me. Why love Jacob more than Esau? Why show preference for Able? (This questioning by no means acquits Cain of what he does later.) It appears to me that Aronofsky is also asking such questions, and one of the biggest deviations made in the film ratchets up the conflict between father and son: Tubal-Cain as a stow-away.

Ham helps him, even plots revenge on Noah, but Ham is also shocked by Tubal-Cain's recklessness towards the animals on board. The conflict within Ham is just as riveting as the one between father and son, as Noah the anti-hero and Tubal-Cain the villain battle one last time. The son ultimately chooses family over all else, even though that choice does not solve his problems: being alone without the possibility of his own family, first and foremost.

I'd like to offer up this conflict, both the biblical account and the film's embellishment, as a proxy for what is missing: the voice of God. In the Bible, many a verse begins with "And God said..." However, we hear no heavenly voice, see no heavenly figure, and in some cases, we aren't even clued in to the visions Noah has. Again, I think the goal is realism. Instead of the Monty Python version of God speaking from a cloud, we get silence or strange dreams, things to be interpreted. Isn't that more like how the Holy Spirit has communicated with men in the Bible? A burning bush, dreams of cattle dying, not straightforward speeches.

God speaking to Arthur and his knights in Monty Python and the Holy Grail, 1975

Oh stop your grovelling! If there's one thing I can't stand it's when people grovel! And don't apologize! Every time I try to talk to someone it's "Sorry this" or "Forgive me that" or "I'm not worthy! - God, Monty Python and the Holy Grail

The relationship between father and son is analogous to that between God and human. There is confusion about what the other one is after and conflict between the desires of both that drives them apart. To me, it is a beautiful metaphor of fate and free will, that timeless preoccupation of many a writer and artist. Ham's own will is to find a wife and start his own family. Noah's will is for Ham and the entire family to perish as the rest of humanity has. What will Ham do, with his hopes and desires in opposition to the path laid out by his father?

The climax of the movie, after all, is not the flood itself, but Noah's decision about his family's fate aboard the Ark. This is where Noah's wife, called Naameh in the film, goes from "submissive" biblical spouse to modern woman. In her final plea to Noah, Naameh essentially outlines the situation in which they, and humanity, have found themselves: is it justice to punish the good in people in order to eradicate the evil? Her actions and words, like Ham's, appear to fight against fate, represented by Noah. She is not a blind follower. She stands up to Noah and leads me to my final conclusions about the film: Aronofsky's own brand of feminist revisionism.

Nameless in the Bible, Noah's wife and Shem's wife, Ila, already reclaim identities denied them in the written tradition. In their dialogue and behavior, they represent a counter to Noah's vision-driven sense of fate. Ultimately, Aronofsky rights the wrong of eliminating the wives of Ham and Japheth with Ila's twin daughters; we now have the "correct" number of women aboard the Ark, though there's a subtle hitch called incest.

How can these girls "be fruitful and multiply" if the men available are their uncles? If the rest of the film has not convinced you that it is not a Sunday School version, this open ending should finally get the point across. Fox News's Dana Bash laments the fairy tale aspect of her childhood, with the dove and the rainbow and everyone living happily ever after. Jon Stewart naturally replies in his bit, "Everyone dies!" However, as if just for Dana, there is a dove who brings Japheth an olive branch at the end. The Ark does land on a mountain, as in the story. And, in a final stroke, the screen dissolves into the spectrum of the rainbow.

After all the darkness, a rainbow at the end. Shouldn't that be enough to satisfy the Sunday School crowd? I smirked at this final frame, because what I felt was so wonderful about this film were the concept of humanity's incestuous origins and the struggle between fate and free will...in short, the messy, good stuff about the story, whichever version you read or watch or listen to.

So, about Noah...

[Um...spoilers might be found within...]

What could possibly be more shocking than one of today's weirdest directors taking on one of the oldest stories in the Bible? Knowing what I know about Darren Aronofsky, I was prepared to view the film as one interpretation among many. However, there has been a slew of negative reviews, from the Vatican to your everyday Christian blogger, bashing Aronofsky's lack of Biblical "facts" and apparent science-fiction twist on the tale of a global flood.

And I think to myself...why not sci-fi? I mean, it's an epic flood that kills all of humanity except Noah and his family. Animals seem to peacefully hop on a man-made boat and do not wind up eating each other? Fallen angels, giants, all of those things that I know from the story seemed to rub people the wrong way. So I have to wonder...which Bible are they reading?

I'm personally using the Good News version for this entry, along with Many Waters, a novel based on Noah's tale by one of my favorite authors, Madeleine L'Engle.

I must also encourage everyone to watch The Daily Show's bit on criticism of the film, cleverly titled "Haters of the Lost Ark." Among other things, Jon points out that the Genesis we know is a translation of a translation (of a translation of a translation...). If you are bothered that the actors use "Creator" in the film rather than "God," I say go have a cup of tea and read Many Waters.

Both L'Engle and Aronofsky (attempt to) inject realism into their stories with the use of "Creator" or "El," the Hebrew term later translated as "God." It's a bit of a switch, I know, considering the rest of the dialogue is English. However, consider that the point of both film and novel is not to rewrite or illustrate the Book of Genesis, but to interpret it in a new form. The dialogue is a reminder that this is not simply a film version of Genesis, but a way to put ourselves into a more ancient than ancient mindset; we have to separate from what is familiar.

Setting aside the familiar aspects of the story is imperative to understanding the intensely personal and modern interpretation of the flood story. Those who dismiss it as "wrong" and "inaccurate" are missing the whole point. If I could borrow a line from Ken Ham, how do we really know? We weren't there. The following points are twists and turns that embrace the immense distance between us and the time of Noah, and the possibilities of interpretation presented in Genesis.

First, The Watchers: all right, I've read several reviews that scoff at these stony giants as too sci-fi. However, there is plenty of room for such characters in the story. L'Engle uses the Hebrew Nephilim, but it's right here, in plain English...giants!

In those days, there were giants on the earth who were descendants of human women and the heavenly beings. They were the great heroes and famous men of long ago. - Genesis 6:4

A Slate blogger points out this verse too, but then curiously drops the subject. In the Bible, the giants are products of unions between fallen angels and human women. Even in my modern translation, this part made me squirm a bit. There's a tinge of blame, here, as if the presence of women itself is a temptation. And Aronofsky furthers that squirmy concept when Noah proclaims that Ila's child will not live if it turns out to be a daughter who could someday have children herself.

Aronofsky's Nephilim are themselves the fallen angels, who have been punished for sympathizing with Adam and Eve. They become powerful allies to Noah, in terms of building the Ark and fighting off the evil descendants of Cain. I suppose this might be offensive, if you want to see an Ark built by a single man, toiling over the years without assistance. If you want Noah to be an ultimate hero, then the film definitely disappoints.

But this is the age of the anti-hero. We have reinvented and rebooted our Batmans and Supermans to have inner conflict, flaws, and the ultimate Aristotelian downfall. It's the same here with Noah.

My comparison of Superman and Noah also comes out of the more modern twists to the story: specifically the industrialization of the descendants of Cain. They and Noah alike use "zohar" to produce fire; it's a coveted mineral that is a fuel source and a flashpoint for violence. Contemporary connections to fossil fuels, anyone? Cain establishes a civilization of power, metal, and insatiable consumerism. And I do mean consumerism...including consuming fellow human beings. It's an environmental and social side of Noah that I, for one, never considered. But it worked as a plot point, and I do think it is worth exploring further, as some at the website Daily Kos are doing. Tubal-Cain, while an invented villain, exemplifies the greed, power-grabbing, and total disregard of consequences we've all seen in gems like Fern Gully and even The Lord of the Rings. He has a "mind of metal," rooted in the Bible's description of another Tubal-Cain, and with every bite of bloody meat he took, he made me cringe and feel for those animals on the Ark, two by two.

Amid my squirming, cringing, and asking someone to please put their friggin' phone away, I kept thinking to myself, why were people expecting a Sunday School film? In Aronofsky's version of an early earth, they do not live "happily ever after," Noah is not perfect, and I'll write more about why I like it that way in "Yes, Virginia, there is a dove and an olive branch."

crusade

Nothing unites people like a common enemy. And apparently secular people like me make great uniters.

The religious saga in my hometown is far from over; in fact, it's simmering quite nicely. Tell me, what's at your high school's entrance? A sign, a marquee perhaps, an image of your mascot. How about a large bronze sculpture of Jesus? A sculpture of Jesus, albeit on private property, just outside a public school that recently reached a compromise concerning a religious image in the office. That might be what people see when they drive to good old JG, if a community member has her way.

Apparently it isn't a protest, but "a positive memorial to the faith of the community." Hmm, I think NC has some of those already. They're called churches, and $30,000 could do a lot to restore and rejuvenate them. Why pay for a bronze statue, when you can make a positive impact on existing monuments? Better yet, give that money to the students! Books, technology, writing workshops, scholarships! Now that's positive.

Two weeks ago, I had some students read aloud excerpts from Pope Urban II's call to the First Crusade. You can read one translation of the speech here. The class squirmed at the graphic violence mentioned to foment religious vengeance. They timidly answered my questions about Urban's motives and persuasion. The promise of heaven is quite a bargain.

But it wasn't just a mission for salvation. It was a land grab; the Latins, as we call Western European Christians at the time, wanted to take territory back from the Muslims. (Territory once held by the Eastern Roman Empire, the Byzantines.) And they held Jerusalem as a Latin kingdom, for a while. It was also a fortuitous distraction from Christian versus Christian violence. Marauding bands of warriors, no longer quite as necessary in a more peaceful Europe, could point their swords eastward. And they practiced their craft on Jewish communities as they made their way to the Holy Land.

Togetherness. Community. Likemindedness. Wrapped in zealotry and stabbing and beheading. How heroic... 

The crusade in my hometown is of a different nature, not violent, but just as zealous. Seriously, our mascot is crusading on teeshirts, now, literally taking up the Cross. There is also a chain dangling down below the fishy fist, perhaps as a symbol of the oppression Christians face today, and have subsequently overcome? I guess the redesign is meant to "put back" the religion thought to have been flushed from the school, but all I see is "Grrr! Jesus!" Not exactly the same message found in the Gospels. It's one thing for an individual athlete to pray or to thank God for that touchdown. It's another to imply that the mascot, the school, the entire community, ascribe to the same beliefs. That's exclusivity, and while it appears to unite, it actually divides.

Four Seasons Graphics has sold these shirts and raised money for a local food pantry. At least some good came of it. What good will come from a bronze statue near campus?

Maybe there is no room for argument here, at least not in legal terms. If the statue is on private property, then it is not a direct statement by the school district. Just as the Muskie teeshirts, sold by a third party, are not official...but both, if the statue is completed, are allowed by the district. No district action, as far as I know, has yet been taken to stop either one.

Some have questioned the legality of altering a school mascot, and I get that. I need to look into trademarks for high schools, because while Ohio State has a choke-hold on their Block O, I do not know of any legal standing regarding the Muskies. In fact, I'm rather nervous having the design's image on my blog now, but you really have to see it to believe it.

All I can say, to (hopefully) wrap up this series of diatribes, is this:

Please, by all means, worship freely and proudly. What you do on Sunday, or what you think/believe/pray any other day of the week, is a personal matter. However, as a teacher or administrator or community leader, you have the responsibility to be inclusive, impartial, and above all, understanding when acting in official capacity. Judging which expressions of faith or opinion are acceptable is not your call. You tripped up on this one, and a student called you out. I wish the ACLU never got involved, but what's done is done. Why invite more controversy? Why repeat the mistakes that led to moving a memorial, and more importantly, losing the trust of students and the community?

In case you forgot, the Latins lost to Saladin in 1187, not even a century after Urban II urged them to take the Cross. The city of Jerusalem is still a hot bed for violence and extremism today; we're like kindergartners refusing to share, only the blocks and dolls are people's homes, places of worship, and lives.

It's the wall, not the image, that should be neutral.

Logo of Al Jazeera America from america.aljazeera.com

During our discussion of Islamic art, I showed the above image to my class along with my typical infuriating questions: what do you think? Why do you think that? So take a moment, and pretend you're my student.

What do you think? How does the image make you feel? Scared? Threatened? Did you just think of terrorism?

Now why did you think that? Some might not be able to get past the common spelling and sound of "Al" in Al Jazeera and Al Qaeda, for instance. I must assure you that this is natural. Especially after 9/11, I cannot blame anyone for that initial, gut reaction. However, I encourage you to recognize why Arabic words and calligraphy stir those feelings, and how you associate a television logo with a terrorist organization.

Then there was that wonderful moment after I played audio of Sura (Chapter) 18 of the Koran. A student raised her hand and said she thought it sounded quite beautiful. She liked the abstract design of the calligraphy and the spiritual qualities that abstract design can impart. Yes.

That's what I mean when I talk about the power of an image. It can scare you, and it can cause you to think beyond the gut reaction. But if images were completely neutral, we wouldn't have much of a visual culture. We wouldn't have the great, iconic images of our own history that express the proverbial thousand words even without any text.

Kent State, 1970

Rosie the Riveter

But with great power, comes great responsibility. Artists of course are responsible for the images they create, just as viewers are responsible for the images they view. Furthermore, teachers like me are responsible for presenting such images in an academic context, one that nurtures critical thinking beyond gut reactions.

I've written before, pleading for skepticism of facebook memes. That is an example of viewer responsibility. We don't get a "dislike" option, so often the posting of an image is taken as a sign of agreement (unless you accompany it with a rant, like I do). The liking and sharing encouraged on facebook is not invalid as expression, mind you, but it is the expression of gut reactions. Good, bad, beautiful, ugly, agree, disagree...these aren't the products of in-depth analysis, but they are starting points.

Now what happens when the image in question touches on a controversial subject, and the artist is a high school student?

I'm talking about teeshirts, here. Teeshirts that were on display in my high school before the whole Jesus drama ensued. From what I understand of the project, the students were free to pick a topic important to them and create a silk-screen design for that topic. Once displayed to the student body, these teeshirts caused a lot of buzz. Isn't that a good thing? School isn't a protective bubble, especially high school, and what better time to start discussing major issues like gay rights and abortion than when you are young and under the direction of responsible educators?

Again, art has power. Images start conversations, create controversy, and, heck, 100 years ago a ballet started a riot in Paris. A ballet! Go ahead and Google Rite of Spring...

Apparently, some educators at JG are descendants of the Parisian rioters. If I understand correctly, some, but not all, of the teeshirts were taken down after students were unable to keep the discussion civil. Instead of direction, instead of education, the principal chose to blame the art. What a lovely lesson for tomorrow's leaders: "You are just mindless information receptacles. You have no power over your own behavior. You have no responsibility to analyze the issues put in front of you. The art made you do it."

That is a huge problem. That is not realistic. The idea that you can put away or destroy art, or anything you disagree with, is what prevents discussion and compromise. (Are you reading this, Congress?) For all our talk of a free society, I was quite frankly shocked by how a majority of my students not only recognized moments of iconoclasm in our culture, but condoned it when it was the government making the call. Essentially, they wrote on their papers "Some images should be banned, and the government should decide." Scary, right? That's not just a parent refusing to buy Tommy the latest "Grand Theft Auto." That reminds me of Entartete Kunst in Munich, the exhibition of "degenerate" modern art put on by Goebbels and Hitler.

Yeah, I just went there.

Neither side is as bad as Hitler, yet I do not want to see this adversarial approach grow unchecked. Forget riots in Paris; taking away religious objects has led to war. (Fine, go Google the dissolution of the monasteries in 16th century England).

It's a pretty good way to piss people off. No one is dying because their church has been torched, but the school in Jackson did have to pay $95,000 in punitive damages when the ACLU came around. That's money taken out of schools, away from education that should fix this mess. The ACLU swoops in at the very hint of promotion of a particular religion, blind to any other consideration, and JG really left itself open to it. I've seen comments from Christians saying that they do not want to see other religions included in schools. They think a portrait of Mohammed on the wall would be just terrible. Regardless of the fact that there are no portraits of Mohammed! Gah, it's an unyielding viewpoint paired with ignorance that I have a problem with here.

If anything, it boggles my mind how similar the mindsets of both sides are, religious right and secular left. Can we get a third option, here? Maybe a fourth?

Remember, these are the words of an idealist, and my grand solution--a school taking the reins and guiding students as they consider images they don't agree with--is contingent on the school being impartial. And I think it's pretty clear that JG has some partial administrators and educators...not to mention parents and other concerned adults. By equating a mass-produced picture (not even a painting) with your own personal faith, you see yourself attacked. Your way of life is threatened. You bemoan catering to the minority. Well, all that tells me is that our community is not ready to stop blaming the art (or making it your martyr) and start explaining our gut reactions.

How can we teach students to work through big issues if we ourselves are not capable of doing so together?

picture painting photograph

The local newspaper is reporting on the JG story now, and of course the comments have exploded like an atom bomb. There are my compatriots of course:

Really this is news ??? Hang a pic of Satan who cares ,just educate the kids ..you religious followers and apposers get fanatical about the dumbest things

There are BIGGER issues that should be addressed way before a picture in the office... Lots of rights violations... prejudicial issues, distinguishing treatment of individual(s) based on their race & community roots…

I heartily agree with your sentiment, if not with your grammar and spelling. Then there are these: 

No they should put one up on every wall !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Amber and Randy may you burn in Hell That's my religion don't like it tuff crap!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You stay classy, SE Ohio...classy and crazy. Here's my absolute favorite:

Jesus had his picture taken??? Kodak???

Thank you from the bottom of my heart; I needed that laugh! And the pièce de résistance:

No way.the teacher should be FIRED!!!!!!!!!!

Say what? Someone is commenting on an issue with which they have not wholly familiarized themselves. Shocker!

All right, my snark is over. Long story short, there has been an image titled The Lord is My Shepherd in my high school since the 1970s. I couldn't really remember it exactly, but my friends have helped me confirm that it is Warner Sallman's work. Frustratingly, the website does not list the painting's date or medium the way other museums and galleries would, but I'd say it is in the vicinity of 1941, the year Sallman painted the Head of Christ. The reproduction of The Lord is My Shepherd in the high school was originally dedicated to a beloved teacher. 

I'm still looking into more about her: Dad identified her as Margaret Barnett, a "pillar of Rix Mills Church." (Shout-out to the ancestral Elliott lands...) As a Latin and English teacher, I'm sure she would share my abhorrence of bad grammar. On matters of religion, we'd agree to disagree. Or, as my dear father told a fellow church-going man, "Don't bother talking to Debbie about religion; you won't win that argument." Whatever that means...

Back to a key word, and why my favorite comment is my favorite: reproduction. I highly doubt that the image in JG is an actual painting, and thus does not have the same value as the original (read here, it would not fetch over a million at auction like The Scream), so I hesitate to talk about it in art historical terms. However, I have a new pet peeve: the words picture, photo, and painting (heck, toss portrait in the mix) are not interchangeable. They each have a particular definition. Thus, I use the term picture, image, or reproduction.

But wouldn't it be cool if Jesus took a selfie and posted it on Instagram? It would also be cool if he could just diffuse this whole situation and remind people that whether the image is on the wall in a school or in a church, their faith (that thing protected by the First Amendment) is inside them, not the image. If we all remembered that, maybe we wouldn't be shouting at each other "Your goin 2 hell!!!!1!" and making ourselves look rather silly. 

Another gem from the comments. You just proved my point, madam.

No one took God out of schools. The courts did rule against school-led prayer. Christian or Muslim, it doesn't matter. No one will be led, but they may lead themselves. What's more important to you, really, stamping Jesus on every locker or actually acting like a Christian?

Crazy notions of Jesus-coated public schools aside, this is not a simple issue, no matter how many internet commenters type "end of story" or "period" after their opinions. Of course, the most immediate argument concerns the separation of church and state, and I'm purposely avoiding the argument over where the phrase "separation of church and state" originated...let's say it's an interpretation of the First Amendment and move on for now. It's precedent that raises the question: should a public school display a religious image? Court decisions on this topic point to "No." 

However, I would also ask: Does the presence of the image endorse the religion? Should the image's particular location within that school have any bearing on the argument? Should the ACLU be involved on the student's behalf? 

To complicate it further (as if parsing which hallways students use or threatening legal action weren't enough), there is a very specific function for this image: the commemoration of a teacher. There are of course such memorials in many school buildings; one internet comment that caught me as particularly salient brought up the portrait of John Glenn himself. By displaying and viewing his image, do we become Democrats like our former Democratic Senator? This, in my mind, is the real issue. What does the image actually do, and what are the responsibilities of the viewer and of the institution displaying the image?

Now, since I teach religious art on a regular basis, I have always been able to frame the religious subject matter in terms of history and visual culture. And I have for a while been asserting the ability of images to serve many different functions depending on their context. Why can schools such as my alma mater not present religious imagery in the same compartmentalized, educational context? Create an open forum for students to view The Lord is My Shepherd alongside their own images, directed by art teachers, history teachers, English teachers, oh my! Alongside examples of Islamic art, Buddhist art, whatever, just keep the dialogue going. They want to talk about it.

But would that satisfy the students who feel their liberties from religion are infringed? I'm curious...

It took me aback that this new article states that Whaley (the student at the center of all this...stay strong and ignore the burka comments, Allison!) was "initially upset" about the teeshirts. Perhaps that is why one of the ignorami thinks a teacher should be fired over this? Could they be referring to the poor art teacher? That would get me truly riled up. 

I had thought that the Dispatch conflated the two issues--Jesus picture and teeshirts--and Whaley's argument was solidly about the picture. I can see, though, how one might lead to the other. The fateful teeshirt project, for which art students chose hot topics like gay rights and abortion, is one of those bigger issues that the school should address. More on that later...

religion on the brain

I have a confession: I'm addicted to The Tudors, and not because it's a Showtime boink-fest. As a student of history, I love to see certain events brought to life, and I love dissecting the writers' liberties taken with historical figures even more. Aside from Henry's many wives and affairs, I think the series made manifest the Reformation and the religious struggles on both sides--Catholic and Protestant--in brilliant fashion.

Along with indulging my Tudors craving, I have also been teaching religious art in my class these past few weeks. In fact, more than one student has, privately, expressed surprise that I put images of Jesus Christ and churches and pages from the Koran up on the screen in front of them. They were surprised, not because they were offended by the images or my lectures, but because they expected others to be offended. How unusual, I thought. Then again, I've been trying to goad them all into making their first impressions known, in order to teach them how first impressions often need to be modified. Essentially, I too was betting at least someone would be offended; I played audio of someone reading from the Koran, for Pete's sake. More on that another time...

Perhaps it is wrong of me to expect some students to be ill-informed about Islam or Christianity, considering my own fear of being pegged a Christian simply because of where I grew up and the family I belong to. It's all so timely, to be teaching religious art and immersing myself in religious history when I came across the article about my high school's current troubles. Of course I immediately shared the article with a lengthy rant. It was liked by a very diverse sampling of my friends, both conservative and liberal. I take this as a sign of success, up to the point that I trust no one has made any assumptions about my religious views.

Has humanity changed much in the last five hundred years? In the last thousand? The more I read, and the more I teach it, the more I believe history is repeating itself. In the 16th century, it was reformers like Martin Luther versus the papacy. Today, it's the religious right versus...well, secular heathens like myself. That's what Bill O'Reilly would call me. I've referred to myself as agnostic in the past, never atheist (that term has a PR problem, for sure...more like getting-religious people-to-understand problem). I think I need a new label these days, so now--maybe it's the historical drama binge talking--I call myself a Humanist.

Humanists value learning above all else. Learning leads to improving oneself and one's community. The humanism of the 16th century highlights, for me, a time in history when great minds realized that learning (particularly of Classical culture once deemed too pagan), is not contrary to religious practice. It is, however, contrary to religious dogma.

I cannot let go of the issues presented in the article. I cannot, as an art historian, abide by the removal of a potentially educative image from a school. I cannot simply join the side of the ACLU, the perceived "liberal secular progressive" side. I cannot stomach the calls for prayers for JG, as if the school is battling Satan and his legions. I'm trying to present a nuanced view of a very complicated situation in my own hometown. So, I want to ask my high school: Dear JG, are you spreading dogma, or are you encouraging learning?

Insisting that New Concord is a Christian community is dogmatic. Not to mention exclusionary (and that's where you bump into the First Amendment clause). Trumpeting the commemorative nature of a religious image is a pathetic attempt to cling to that dogma while hiding from it at the same time. Berating students who have raised their concerns about the constitutionality of a religious image in a public school, telling them to "get out of my country," is just plain wrong. So within the next few weeks, I hope to do some research on the side about the many issues at play in my high school today. And I hope I clarify the points I made in my rant, making plain that I am not on Team Christianity, and not really on Team ACLU. I'm on Team Let-the students-have-a-voice.

multiplicity of memorials

There is going to be a religious symbol at the Ohio Statehouse. At the same time, I am surprised that there is so little debate, and I am not surprised that this flies below the radar of so many Ohioans. Ever since hearing the words “memorial” or “monument” on the news broadcast, I have felt the need to read more about it and write this in order to get input from friends. (Instead of anonymous, spelling-impaired internet commenters.)

It’s especially on my mind this week, with the anniversary of 9/11. The designer of Ohio’s Holocaust Memorial is none other than Daniel Libeskind, master planner of the World Trade Center site and victim of many of the aforementioned internet comments. For now, I'm shying away from tearing into the articles and editorials, those covering reactions of atheists and the grumblings of Richard Finan. For one, I'm still unclear whether the "mock-up" actually originated from a Libeskind suggestion or what. And does it matter?

From the information Libeskind's studio provides online, the steel verticals “have a cut-out form of a bisected hexagram (six-pointed) star,” with no mention of the shape’s religious significance. Is this a conscious avoidance of religion considering the public site? Considering the universality that many monument designers work toward?

I wish I could grant Libeskind that benefit of the doubt, but my research into commemoration with abstraction shows that what is abstract is not necessarily “tolerantly vague.” In addition to my quoting of Karal Ann Marling’s work on the Vietnam Veterans Memorial, I’d like to point out that vague is not what we need here. Unless I’m mistaken, the connection between Ohio’s people and the Holocaust deserves a bit more explanation.

And we do get some insight from the Ohio Jewish Communities in these words: “Inspired by the Ohio soldiers who were part of the American liberation and survivors who made Ohio their home.” But allow me to pose the question: does it have to be at the Statehouse? Why not in areas with a more explicit Jewish heritage, in Columbus or even Cincinnati or Cleveland?

Let’s think about the case for Columbus, and the Statehouse in particular.

As I was perusing the Statehouse website, this made me laugh: “the magnificent Greek Rival Capitol Building.” Surely they meant “Revival,” but I digress. The strongest statement I found that might be useful here is: “The monuments and statues on Capitol Square depict the values, ideals and desires of the Ohioans who commissioned and designed them.” Surely, all Ohioans share the values and ideals that prevent genocide. Surely, by remembering millions as well as individuals, we take part in a global effort never to forget and never to repeat.

The Libeskind monument does not conflict with what is already there, in terms of a “history of the common person.” In that way, it is a recognition of Ohio’s Jewish community, especially those who found homes in this state after the war.

From what I have seen and what I remember about the Statehouse, art and design at Capitol Square has held on to the Neoclassical style that played such a large part in the early history of Ohio and the United States. The closest to conceptual or contemporary seems to be the curving walls of the Veterans Plaza.

The larger problem might not be the angular, abstract forms of the Libeskind design, but the zeroing in on a Jewish story. If the monument is to “teach people about man’s inhumanity to man,” there are, as many internet commenters and trolls have pointed out, a myriad of stories about that same inhumanity. Some are more recent, such as events in Darfur, and some were driven by forces other than differences of religion, such as the genocide in Rwanda.

The one thing that we have to hold on to, if this monument is to be included at Capitol Square, is the connection to Ohio. Anecdotally, the concept as it stands is more strongly connected to Ohio and Ohioans than, say, a memorial to the victims of Rwanda. However, are the visual elements reinforcing that anecdotal connection, then broadening the issue out beyond a particularly Jewish story into an Ohioan story? Or do the visual elements, with their lack of classicism, drive those who are least likely to relate to a Jewish story even further from understanding the lesson the OJC wishes to convey?

It’s my historical understanding that those taken to concentration camps include more than Jews: the Roma, the disabled, homosexuals, and others deemed “undesirable” in Aryan society. How much stronger would the monument be, and how much more aligned with American ideals, if the words and the images told stories of the Holocaust that remind us how hatred has many inspirations, religious and ethnic and beyond?

The monument would be truly universal, touching on our common history and relating quite directly to political and social issues facing Ohio today. It’s those issues, after all, that the Statehouse was built for in the first place. 

*Since I began ranting and writing this summer, Iowa has beat us to the punch. Hey, being first isn't everything.

church lady

I haven't written much about church or religion.  It's never really seemed to matter much to me except on a purely aesthetic level.  Art history offers such an understanding of church culture and history that going on Sunday, especially to an austere Presbyterian church, seemed an afterthought.  To some I am a heathen, to others I am the status quo, an academic non-observer.  But now it's out...right on my Facebook...the inexplicable association with organized religion.

Back before I somehow chose art history as a focus, the church was yet another public forum in which to embarrass myself, much like high school.  Christmas pageants and talent shows galore.  Nowadays, I've been avoiding church in order to avoid answering the "What are you doing these days?" or "Found a job yet?" questions.

But I'm also planning a fundraiser for Heifer International, which requires reaching out to congregation members and being a general busy-body.  I think I can make the event a lot of fun, something different than an empty envelope in the bulletin.

The one snag is how much of my own money to spend.  Because there isn't much of it.  Well, there are other, potential snags...I'm wondering if my volunteers thus far really understand what the event is (how many different ways could I put it?) and whether they realize this will take their time and perhaps even their money.  I know I shouldn't assume, but to say these things to their faces seems rather blunt.  For some people, "volunteer" could mean just show up.  In this case, just showing up ain't gonna cut it.  And what if nobody comes to donate?

I have to admit that this Heifer event will be--for me--less about religion and more about flexing my administrative muscles for a good cause.  Helping people is not a purely Christian concept, yet the church has always been a fitting frame for these sorts of missions.  Heifer also happens to be the project my mother often headed in the past.  Unfortunately for me, this time it will take more than a cow-shaped stamp to pull it off.

critical thinking

I remember it from the corners of grade school textbooks:  "Critical Thinking," a section of the chapter most often ignored (to all students' relief) for the more palatable multiple choice questions and bullet points.  In a recent conversation, though, it came to me that the lack of critical thinking is at the root of almost every stagnated argument.  Why weren't we encouraged as children to practice that most important of skills?  To listen and learn, but not to take anything for granted, for gospel.  Analyze.  Criticize.  Think.

For example, during my time homebound with my father, I have often run into political and ideological stalemate.  I have often lamented the whole "us versus them" trope that makes everything so black and white, life and death.  All I hear pertaining to Muslims and mosques is parroted from the latest Fox News program, filled with emotional fallacy and hatred and fear.  Any disagreement on my part is often met with harsh words...or at least they felt harsh to me.  To disagree is not to be narrow-minded, or insolent, or aggressive.  I do admit to being "aggressive" on New York subways, if indeed looking into someone's eye is an act of war, but I just can't not look, you know?  And I just can't not voice my opinions and observations.

The thing is, it is ungratifying to say the least when saying my part does not propel us into meaningful dialogue.  Who wants to be shut down with a curt "No, you're wrong"?  Even children don't accept that crap.  They ask why.  And grownups scramble for some watered-down explanation of sex or pregnancy or profanity.  It is our natural instinct to question and explore.

So why am I seeing all these signs appearing to say "Don't question" and "Don't think"?  If you want to contradict me, come up with something better than "No."

Just now, reading the book Heaven, I came across a Muslim scholar fighting against the lack of critical thinking within Islam itself.  What Americans might consider Islam is in fact an overly literal, Puritanical interpretation that forbids all questions.  An "uncritical adherence" to the Qur'an.  Sound familiar?  These "Puritans" ignore history and cultural context and foster the ideas that lead young Muslims to terrorism.  Of course, this is a simplification...read the book.  But either way, it tells me that I've been onto something, because I see uncritical adherence in many religions and ideologies.

So to put it critically, people have been asking the wrong question:  it's not which religion is the right path (a nice, simple either/or that many are comfortable with) but how does religion lead us down the path?

Reject the literal, forget the grade school adherence to whatever the teacher tells you.  Think for yourself.  It's nothing new, but it sure could solve a lot of new problems.

Keeping an eye on the enemy

I've had an epiphany while lamenting the presence of FoxNews on the television.  Yes, Dad has been watching again.  Let's see what I can come up with in response to the conservative hypocracy.

Of course I must declare that Ann Coulter has no soul.

I can sort of see how higher taxes and government spending for the unemployed and impoverished could seem unfair to the rich.  But I think that Congressman talking about Christmas spirit (or in O'Reilly's opinion, "co-opting Jesus"), made a good point...especially during this season of giving, how can anybody ultimately reject the notion of helping those in need?  Naturally the conservatives draw a line between private charity and government services, but really, both help put food on tables and presents in children's hands.  Not to mention paying bills and mortgages and keeping people in their homes.

You can quote the Bible and interpret parables all you want (though FoxPeople don't see it as interpretation...), but it really comes down to being human.  Can you really stand to see suffering in all its degrees:  from skimping on gifts to unemployment to all-out homelessness...while you sit pretty on a mound of cash?  Even conservative economists agree that money in the hands of the lower classes and unemployed is better spent than money in the hands of the rich (most likely eventually re-routed to foreign accounts...not creating jobs).  Can you believe that Coutler and O'Reilly think money to the poor amounts to the taxpayers "buying" alcohol and drugs and financing illegitimate children?  That in itself is a most un-Christian view of the poor.

Now I'm not saying that every unemployed person out there is a saint.  But it's insensitive and classist and wrong to assume that everyone in a certain class are irresponsible and misguided.  I was further incensed by the suggestion that people who are unemployed like me somehow deserve it.  There are those who have given up...but those aren't the ones getting unemployment assistance are they?  The poor didn't choose to be poor, Mr. O'Reilly.

I am, however, concerned that government assistance merely perpetuates the presence of extreme poverty among the ill-educated and under-served.  As I write this I'm thinking of the film Precious...and its grim look at welfare and how it is used and abused.  But really, I'm starting to doubt whether an education can really lift someone out of that kind of hole.  Seeing as my education is worthless at this point.

history is written by...

After a short History Channel documentary about Juan Ponce de Leon, and learning all the inaccuracies of my 8th Grade Social Studies class, I wonder just how many other facts passed on to students by teachers and textbooks just aren't quite factual.  Like dumbing down photosynthesis until it really isn't correctly described, or how we don't really subtract, we add with negative numbers.  As a substitute teacher, I ran across several examples where simplification runs that fine line between truth and fallacy.  But is there any other way?  We can't exactly teach O-Chem to 10-year-olds.

To top it all off, Texas school boards are pushing toward a "conservative" history that makes a euphemism of slavery and what all.  Don't even get me started on Creationism.  And being so big and numerous, and in proximity to publishers, Texas schools have a big say in what national publishers publish.  Scary.

This is what happens when we take history out of the able hands of historians and science away from the scientists.

Deborah Lindsay, at First Community Church, made a superb plea for tolerance and peace that is now all over the internet.  And one point she made is valid here:  it is not right to exalt one faith above all others at the expense of others.  Here I would argue to include "at the expense of education."  Support your faith, yes, but make it govern a whole society?  Nope.  That's theocracy, not democracy.  Ben and Tom would hate that.  (And here I mean Franklin and Jefferson, two founding fathers).

My latest task is to outline a chart for my dad making explicit the education and background of the founding fathers that Tea Partiers and Conservatives alike so love to invoke.  I find it funny that the same FoxNews blondes who mock Cambridge, Massachusetts, for its educational elite worship founding fathers who are...gasp...Harvard educated.

I'm not so radical that I demand "history" henceforth be called "herstory," like some feminists who have no understanding of etymology, but I do yearn for the day that history is written by objective scholars, not the subjective and partisan few.

oh, intolerance

I should have known from the moment I chose to write about Ground Zero, it would follow me to the end of my days.  There is always something to report and debate, it seems, involving that hallowed piece of Manhattan real estate.  The problem is one that is ever present in a dense urban space like New York City:  proximity.  To honor the victims, must we purge every little thing that is not sacred from Lower Manhattan?  From the whole Island?  What exactly is and isn't appropriate to be near the site?  Century 21?  Burlington Coat Factory?  That is what I want to ask people who oppose the development of a Muslim community center on Park Street, two blocks from Ground Zero.

Our national reaction to 9/11 was unifying, yet it was not monolithic.  And I use monolithic instead of homogeneous in honor of my preoccupation with monuments.  We bombed Afghanistan, yet politicians agreed that to beat the terrorists we would also have to win hearts and minds of moderate Muslims at home and abroad.  Two very different methods.  And as Fareed Zakaria wrote in Newsweek, the tenuous American relationship with moderate Islam could only be strengthened by the presence of a community center such as the ill-labeled "Ground Zero Mosque."  It would be a celebration not of tragedy but of resilience.  A manifestation of our constitutional protection of religious freedom and equality.

Here are my problems with the opposition:
1.  Stop calling it the "Ground Zero Mosque"!  It's not at Ground Zero.  There is a specific, bounded section of Lower Manhattan that retains the sanctity and dignity of the Memorial, and then there is the rest of the city.  It is not at the "epicenter" of 9/11.  For in my thesis, I argue that 9/11 had no epicenter, since it involves the Pentagon and Pennsylvania countryside.  Yes, plane debris and quite possibly human remains fell on the site at 45 Park, just like it fell on the entire area surrounding the World Trade Center.  This hasn't stopped the development of other buildings for fear of insensitivity.

2.  It's not just a mosque.  It's a place for the American Muslims who are already in the city to congregate, along with anyone else who isn't a bigot.  They own the building.  They can do what they will with the building.  The worship space is an improvement on the existent, cramped mosque not too far away from Ground Zero.  Maybe those who are offended by its proximity should reflect on their own prejudice against an entire religion, while they have no problem with WTC souvenirs and tourism and corporations covering the area like ants at a picnic.

3.  I searched for evidence that mosques are built as signs of victory.  And I found no scholarly sources.  Just conservative and alarmist blogs and articles.  Listening to Rush Limbaugh is not research, people.  One article even erroneously suggests that the al-Aqsa Mosque in Jerusalem was built to celebrate the destruction of the Temple.  Oops.  Romans destroyed the second Temple in 70 CE (That's AD for any non-academics).  The mosque and the Dome of the Rock (built in the 7th Century CE) which now stand atop this sacred mount are not signs of victory over Judaism or Christianity, but examples of our commonalities.  The place is sacred to us all.  That's why they built on top of it during a period of Muslim conversion and rule.  BTW, before the Crusades, Jerusalem was a city where Muslims, Jews and Christians lived in relative harmony.

4.  We all want to tread lightly when it comes to the feelings of 9/11 victims' families.  This is one reason why the rebuilding at Ground Zero has been so slow (apart from contracts and litigation).  Yet these people should not be paraded (literally and figuratively) by opponents and politicians to shame anyone who supports the center.  In fact, there are families who support it themselves.  They want peace and closure.  Understanding.  They want to rise above the hate that drove the terrorists to kill their loved ones.  How dare anyone try to make me or other supporters feel guilty?  It's a desperate, personal attack that smacks of malicious zeal.

5.  Seeing articles and blogs and facebook polls plastered with the face of Osama bin Laden just make me sick to my stomach.  And I'm not even Muslim.  Like I commented on a cousin's post, it's just plain slander.  Not all Muslims are bin Ladens.  How much do you want to bet that Osama would oppose the mosque due to its interfaith, inclusive nature?  I'd bet my life savings.  We should do the homework and make sure the funding has no ties to al-Qaeda.  Yet the pictures go too far.

6.  Remember our American values?  Equality?  Freedom?  You're treating Muslims like criminals and second-class citizens.  Regardless of your religious affiliation, you should respect the rights of others to deal with the tragedy of 9/11 and the rebirth of Lower Manhattan in their own way.  The mosque is not illegal, as much as you hope it is.  Our constitution does not support prejudice, though we have failed in the past.  We have persecuted Jews, Catholics, Communists, Irish, Germans in the 18th century and in the 20th.  When will we ever learn?  (I have deliberately omitted slavery, here, for that is an issue all its own)

Anyone who reads this and feels like repeating the Fox News talking points, stop and think, please.  Do some real research.  There is no more a Muslim agenda than there is a gay agenda.  Our culture can take it.  We can all be friends two blocks away from one of the most sacred spots in America.  Turn off Limbaugh and read some history.  Shake hands with a Muslim neighbor (if you can find one...they might be scared of you) and learn a little about cultural exhange.  Prove that you are wise enough to distinguish a radical terrorist from the family down the street.

The National September 11th Memorial and Museum are dedicated to the memory of those who died and the end of the cycle of hate.  Don't help Sarah Palin, Limbaugh & Co. perpetuate the hate.  Please.

shoot! I forgot what I wanted to write...

So as an art educator/museum person am I really doing my job when the only people who come to my open-ended informal Q&A talks are family members?  That's been bothering me all weekend.

Just how do I go about reaching the people who need to be reached?  Step 1:  work at a better institution.  I've got a dozen applications floating around in the ether (at least that's how it feels when everything is electronic), and I'm unsure whether I should make follow-up calls.  Rats.

Y-Bridge Festival was all right.  I guess when you've got a funny-shaped bridge that you can partially close off without completely disrupting traffic, you have to stage an arts festival there.  I bought a really cool collage that reminds me of the architecture days.  And now all I want to do is snip up old maps and magazines and make collages of my own.  I did my best impression of a salesman at the booth...just trying to whip up some community support.  And the band did play my favorite karaoke song:  I Want You to Want Me.

I'm slowly digging out of my lack of organization.  The room is almost liveable again.  Now if I could only stop being so uncomfortable about the clothes in my closet (and on my floor), I might actually wake up in a good mood.  I'm just not liking what I've got.

I have to see the movie Eat Pray Love.  HSN would like to think that buying stuff over the telephone is equivalent to traversing the world, but I know they're wrong.  Every time I see the trailer on television I want to get the heck out of Dodge and see something.  Anything.  I really have to wonder at this point...will I ever see the world?  Or did I miss my opportunity, now that my twenties are drawing to a close?  The sisters say they're happy right where they are.  Good for them, but not for me.  Right now I don't even like my closet.

Dad was watching Huckabee last night.  One of the guests was talking about how God saved him from the "demon of murder,"  after he brutally murdered a woman in the 70s.  Now he's free and preaching.  Only one thing comes to mind when I see Huckabee.  Theocracy.  Why is it that the various Protestant sects that emerged out of the Reformation are just as tyrannical and corrupt as the Church they rejected?

Topic for next time, I think.