13 November 2013

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...

11 November 2013

notes on a town

Before I dive in to the high school drama surrounding religious images and students' rights, I thought I should begin at the beginning: just what is it about New Concord?

While I was describing the issues to a student of mine, she said "Nothing bad ever happens there, and everyone is so nice." New Concord is our Mayberry, our Pleasantville. It's a quaint college town on the outskirts of Appalachia. And everyone is so nice.

Except the person who robbed the drug store at gun-point last year. True, that sort of thing seems a lot more frequent in a place like New York City; everyone asked me "aren't you scared about moving there?" I think this is true of all rural areas; we have this delusion that crime only happens in cities. That there is an invisible barrier between us and the gangsters and drug dealers and burglars. It was last year that I really (really) missed having my dog Zeke around, because there were several burglaries in the little town near the farm. Zeke would have bitten a burglar's legs off to protect me, and I missed that reassurance. I find it really strange how "country" it is to have dogs around, to have guns in the house for protection, then in a brilliant moment of cognitive dissonance, to assert that nothing bad happens here because we're country folk. We obviously feel the need to prepare for something. 

The security director at the campus where I teach made this very important point: banish all thoughts of New Concord as a real-life Pleasantville from your mind. Do it now! Have you seen the film titled Pleasantville? What is pleasant is not always pleasing. 

Aside from having a magnificent soundtrack, the film is very instructive for people trying to understand what is going on in New Concord. It, like Pleasantville, is a place where tradition reigns, and change is frowned upon. And I'm not talking about new construction--with the university on the hill and the new bank on the corner, cosmetic change is welcomed, so long as it's clad in quaintness and ornamental brick. As a kid, it really did feel like the end of Main Street looped back to the beginning again. An endless loop of small town goodness. A loop I was, as a country kid, often excluded from. Sometimes it takes an outsider, though, to make things happen.

What happens to Pleasantville? Outsiders change it from black & white to color. From conformity to diversity. From narrow-mindedness to open-mindedness. I think that same change can happen in New Concord, but not if grown men and women get their panties in bunches over a student questioning a picture of Jesus. Not if they call her un-American or tell her to get out.


Now, the people saying these things are not necessarily from New Concord. But New Concord residents who care about what is going on in their community ought to ask themselves why there is such an aggressive reaction to the question "Should a public school have a religious image on the wall?" Fear. The knowledge that you and your sect are not in complete control. Yet in their anger and fear, as in the film, they show their true colors. If only she'd be quiet, right? If only she's stop making a scene, everything could stay the same.

Will taking the picture down negate all that is actually good about the community? No. And allowing students to debate (in a civil manner) controversial issues doesn't take away from the fact that New Concord is a pretty good place in which to grow up. The debate will make it better. It will diminish the false pretenses that rural communities are in these protective bubbles that liberal secular elitists are trying to pop. No, you don't live in a vacuum. Sorry.

The idea of Pleasantville is dependent upon conformity, and conformity cannot coexist with American liberty. The process of breaking down conformity is painful, I know, and those most discomforted by change will fight back with unkind words and judgments. I pity them for using Christianity as a shield. I'm disappointed in them for showing a young adult such disrespect. Above all, I admire the student for attempting what I could never do.

08 November 2013

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.

24 October 2013

dissing the dissemination of ignorance


From the Facebook community oddly titled "PATRIOT" (sic).
The meme on the right is complete garbage. When I first saw it in my feed, I thought, oh my gosh, where am I going to start with this one? I quickly realized that this merited more than the average share + mock strategy I have used before.


[WARNING: Knowledge follows...]

Now, I'm all for patriotism. I'm all for voters being aware of the values and views of the candidates they support. This, however, does not educate voters. It sucks their brain cells dry. The page that posted this (although I cannot cite them as the originators), simply says "PATRIOT - One who loves, supports and defends one's country." It's a nice thought, but again...how does comparing an American president to Hitler support or defend the United States?

Silly me, I don't even need to bother with that question. This particular instance of Obama=Hitler is predicated on the (sadly) bold statement: "Only two people in history had their own symbols." This is where I can tear this whole thing to shreds. And others have attempted it within Facebook comments, only to be called names, naturally.

Call me art historian. That means I am fully capable of denouncing the statement as blatantly false. Point number one: "Only two people?" Please. The Queen of England has a symbol--her coat of arms. Caesar had his Eagle. But let's cut to the quick here. I'm talking about a man from a backwater of the Roman Empire, born approximately in the year 1 AD. You might know him as Jesus of Nazareth, Jesus Christ, or simply Jesus, your Lord and Savior. They say "know your audience," and I know that the main audience for tripe like the meme above tend to be religious. Here are just three symbols used within the same scope of "history" the meme claims:
Chi Rho Iota
Christian Cross
Ichthys (Fish)




So let's examine these symbols and see if they fit the bizarrely ominous tone of the meme. The Chi Rho Iota, which combines the first three Greek letters of the name Christ, is credited for the emperor Constantine's victory at the Milvian Bridge. He had a vision of the Chi Rho Iota in the sky that convinced him to use the symbol as his standard. Constantine went on to declare Christianity a legal religion in the empire, ending persecutions of Christians. Not exactly Hitler material. The Ichthys, also Greek, is a simple fish that Christians would use to identify themselves to fellow Christians before the religion became dominant in the Roman world. It too is based on the Greek name of Jesus: Iesus Christos, Theo Yios, Soter (Jesus Christ, Son of God, Savior). Again, an innocuous image with a great history. All it takes is a little reading.

Now the Cross, we can really sink our teeth into that. It has also become a major symbol for Jesus and Christianity as a whole, but Early Christians actually preferred the Chi Rho Iota and Ichthys to the Cross. To a Roman citizen, it would be like looking at an image of an electric chair. Crosses were standard execution equipment for political dissidents, and the cross as a symbol, the Crucifix in particular, was quite rare in Christian art before the 5th century AD.

My point is that symbols are not just drawings or letters combined in clever designs. They have many layers of meaning. Some meanings are positive, while some meanings are very negative, like the Cross would have been to the Romans. The Swastika also has many layers. Before it was appropriated by the National Socialist Party in the 1920s, the Swastika was a sacred symbol to Hindus and Buddhists, among other eastern religions. In Sanskrit, svastika means "good fortune," and today you can see it on statues of Buddha. Hardly a sign of impending genocide. Send Heinrich Schliemann to do archaeological work in Turkey, though, and boom, this poor symbol is distorted into an image of Aryan purity. Good luck turns into bad juju when Germans are looking for their ancient ancestors.

Back to the meme version of the Swastika: I think the creator of this image is noticing some basic geometric coincidences. The circular forms of both make for a great comparison; they must mean the same thing! It's a pretty big leap, though, from form to politics. They make that gargantuan jump because they add their own negative layer to Obama's campaign symbol. In it they see progressive, gun-grabbing Fascism/Socialism/any scary -ism you can think of. No symbol is created in a vacuum. We influence them as much as they influence us.

Symbols are all around us. We are bombarded by images that stand for ideas, people, and places, so it is completely ludicrous to narrow the entire visual history of the human race down to two symbols to make a faulty political point. Spreading this as a meme on social media is tantamount to shouting lies on a street corner: "2+2=5! Why? Because Obama is a Muslim!" It doesn't take much to stop and think about what you find online. So I end with a plea: please think before you share such memes in the future. Be skeptical, especially when someone is making a Hitler comparison.

08 September 2013

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.

21 August 2013

any takers?

These are the topics that walk that fine line between public and private, between debatable and off-limits: welfare, food stamps, however you call them. It's a wonder I haven't written that much about these topics since family discussions mirror the news media so closely: Person A thinks everyone who uses food stamps is defrauding taxpayers while Person B (usually me) hopes that she can make everyone see that is an over-generalization, an assumption that only divides us further. Meanwhile, Person C just doesn't want to talk about it. Seriously, can we not talk about it please?

Dorothea Lange, Migrant Mother, Nipomo Valley, 1935
These topics, specifically the SNAP (Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program) one, make me nervous because I dread the effect on the local community, should the program ever be completely de-funded. Plus, as a former member of AmeriCorps, I experienced the benefits first-hand. Short of putting my family through an abridged version of the Bridges out of Poverty training, I offer anecdotes to fight against the stereotypes.

It's natural to see someone receiving a benefit and think, "Hey, I'm paying for this myself. I'm working." I think it's that very human reaction that drives my relatives to form their opinions. Then they follow up with comments like "get a job," or "but they have a job, what's the problem?" It's also very human to look at someone receiving benefits and analyze clothing, car, behavior, and the amount of junk food in their shopping cart, because surely only a certain type of person needs food stamps. And I've thought that way, too. It was instantaneous; I hand a food pantry form to someone, and I see manicured nails and an iPhone. It doesn't compute. Why are they receiving help? Aren't there others who need it more?

But then I thought to myself, I'm as bad as that Varney guy on Fox News who complained that the American poor aren't really poor because they have microwaves--in essence redefining poverty. So let me flip this around for you: instead of thinking to yourself, "he bought an iPhone but he needs my help buying food," think "wow, the people in need might not be that different from me." It's all about perspective. If your definition of poor is still an image like Lange's Migrant Mother, you might want to look at some newer information from the SNAP program itself:
View some studies for yourself at USDA.gov
Even better, watch "American Winter". The point is, the "poor" might not be who you think they are. They might not be the takers, the freeloaders, that drum up so much conservative ire. They might have that iPhone to disguise themselves, fearful of judgment. Or heck, they're just trying to live a "normal" 21st Century life.

Why am I posting all this? Because I couldn't do it today when faced with this topic yet again. It's nowhere near as eloquent as Lange's photograph, which drew public attention to the plight of tenant farmers during the Depression, but it's what I'm able to offer. I suppose I could bring my laptop along whenever I visit a relative, just in case they need their perspective changed, but I'd hate to be preachy with family. So I'm preaching to you instead.

03 August 2013

success

I've dredged up a lot of interesting things while organizing my dad's house; some of my mother's things, photos, grandparents' documents. I found two copies of the same quote entitled "Success," maybe typed by my mother for a church event, maybe given to her...who knows.

But I do know to be careful with quotes. With all the Einstein quotes out there in the ether, things Einstein never uttered, I decided to do my due diligence before romanticizing "Success" as the words of Ralph Waldo Emerson, the American Transcendentalist writer. So, naturally, I turned to Google.

I came across an Emerson Society website from Texas A&M that describes the misattribution of this quote. Apparently it's more likely the work of a woman (go figure...) named Bessie Anderson Stanley. Other non-academic websites also agree that the quote is not necessarily Emerson's. In fact, there are completely different words, depending on who you ask.

Here are the words I found:

To laugh often and much;
to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children;
to earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends;
to appreciate beauty, to find the best in others;
to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition;
to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived.
That is to have succeeded. 

Emerson or not, it's something to hold on to, for us underemployed and unemployed. For those of us who just aren't satisfied by doing whatever it takes to make a buck, but want that buck to have a meaning.

Just imagine what Emerson might think of this quote. Imagine what his colleague Henry David Thoreau might think of our society at large...

I shudder at the thought.