Amani Iwe Nawe

by Brede Eschliman, Diocese of Connecticut

The best part of my day (other than the meeting the presiding bishop, which was incredible) was an unexpected conversation. We had a debriefing and dinner with Ecumenical Women, and we were supposed to discuss advocacy points in small groups while eating. The small group I was in was not gelling at all. People didn’t really want to talk, and the discussions that did happen seemed very forced. After it became clear that we weren’t going to have a conversation as a group, everyone struck up personal conversations with their friends instead. I introduced myself to a woman who hadn’t talked the entire time and looked really bored, and it quickly turned into an amazing conversation. The woman, whose name is Grace, teaches at a university in Tanzania and had been to the CSW before. She told me a lot of really interesting things about Tanzania—I had to resist the temptation to pull out a notebook and pen. One of the most intriguing things she told me was that, in her opinion, using Swahili rather than English to conduct governmental affairs may hurt Tanzania. As a developing country, Tanzania receives assistance from other countries, many of which use English. She thought that the language barrier between Tanzania and the countries supporting it prevented Tanzanians from fully utilizing the resources offered. She suggested that Tanzania should emphasize English until it is more developed, then return to Swahili.

The content of the conversation was not what made it so wonderful, though. I really felt like I connected with Grace and was genuinely engaged in the conversation rather than making small talk. There was one point when she mentioned the difficulty rural children have learning English when their parents don’t speak English at home. I mentioned I had the same difficulty with Spanish, and she laughed and shook my hand in a gesture of understanding. We laughed a lot. The best part of the conversation was when she taught me some Swahili. When I lived in South Africa last summer, my favorite part of the Anglican services was always the exchange of the peace in three different languages (isiXhosa, English, and Afrikaans). Grace taught me to say “peace be with you” in Swahili too: Amani iwe nawe. We said that to each other when we left the debriefing later that night, and it was one of the most genuine and joyous exchanges of peace I have ever shared.

Darse Cuenta

by Karen Longenecker, Diocese of San Diego

The last blog I wrote about was rather obscure. I talked about the body and how one day equality will be an erotic experience. I don't know yet if I totally know what that means but in true divine style, the next day brought more clarity to me. Andrea has already wrote about the speaker who was the president of Union Theological Seminary and I wish to continue a bit in that train of thought.

After my thoughts about equality physically exisiting in our bodies, not as some abstract concept we lobby for that exists outside of us, I wanted my body to have a place in this conference. The speech by Selene Jones made that possible. In short, her message was that feminism has to go as far as to reach into empowering the basic motions we move through each and every day with our bodies. She talked about our labor, the labor of women in the global neoliberal market network, the labor of women in the hidden and more profitable exploitive markets of sex trade, drug trade and other black market commodities, the labor of women in regional and community trading and the labor of women as they move through the home and the earth. I finally felt like this movement, and myself, and myself inside of this movement had meaning. I had both my roots and my wings. The image of the empowerment of the body reaching up from the earth and down from the overarching global markets that not only oppress and demand so much of us, but that whether we like it or not control even our body, our sex and our intimacy. She brought meaning into where I understand it best, and she took it out of me into where it is needed most.

There are other things, many things, that have inspired me this week. I heard a man talk about sex trafficking and how laws in the US need to change to criminalize those that demand the supply, not criminialize those that provide the supply. More simply put, don't criminalize the victims but criminalize those that create the system in which they are exploited, destroyed and stripped of their dignity. I was entirely too emotional to stay for the entire presentation and I had to leave. This week has made me realize how much I try to run from things that are painful to me so that I can continue to appear strong, and the appearance probably only matters most to me and not others.

This week made me realize that I still have energy and passion for the work I am dedicated to doing - graduate school has made me feel like an apathetic academic. This week makes me feel like a passionate woman who can utilize academia for the benefit others.

This week made me regain my faith in men. I've heard amazing things from the very few men that are here and the way in which they see the women's issue in the world.

This week made me remember how much I love and thrive on diversity, advocacy and a sense of a spritual home. I remembered for the first time in a long time that without the sense of a spiritual home, my work feels empty. I remembered what it feels like to see a divine force work in and among those of us trying to be faithful.

I think I have regained my faith.

Personal Frustration and Group Gain

by Jasmine Bostock, Diocese of Hawaii

So, today was one of extreme highs and then extreme lows. In the morning, we met with the Presiding Bishop Katherine Jefferts-Schori. She pretty much has rockstar status for me, a young woman feeling called to ordination in the Episcopal Church. I so appreciated given the time we were given, and I really liked her honesty in answering the questions we posed to her. We didn't shy away (though we were respectful) from the hard questions, and we really pushed her. The question I asked was, "What are the strengths of young adults, and how can we leverage them to the advantage of this womens movement?" She replied that one of the gifts of young adults was our questioning of the system, and our persistence in getting a satisfactory answer. After we met with Bishop Katharine, we also had the honor of meeting with the Canon to the Ordinary (which is like the vice president to the president). He spoke with candor about everything under the sun. I especially appreciated that he shared with us his frustrations as he went through the discernment process, because he was always told that he was too young. I have felt called to ordination since I was seven years old, and already my age has been a barrier in the beginnings of the discernment process. I am told I am too young much of the time, and it was great to get his advice on how to deal with that. However, my afternoon took a slight turn for the worse. I had to go to the Swiss Consulate, to process a visa. After I finally found it, in a completely unmarked building, I was told they were on lunch break. When I came back at 2, I was told they only process Visa's in the morning. So, I wasted an afternoon and I will have to go back tomorrow. Through my personal frustrations, though, I have so loved being with this group of young adults. I cannot express how important they are, and have been, through the time we have shared together. I am filled with Gods love in my heart.

The Difference that Christ Makes

by Ruth Lindsay, Diocese of Arizona

I have been involved in secular activism for quite a few years. Passionately political and ardently feminist, I have struggled throughout my young adulthood to live out my values and give back to a world that has given so generously to me. But passionate commitment was never enough to render my involvement personally meaningful or sustainable, and I soon developed a consistent pattern of engagement, disengagement, recommitment and again, exhausted disengagement. But my experience here at the UNCSW as part of a faith-based delegation has been radically different. As a recent convert to Christianity, coming from a thoroughly “secular,” basically agnostic background, I have been trying throughout the week to articulate the profound differences I have experienced between secular and faith-based activism. While my background positions me well to speak to these differences, I still struggle to find the words or a conceptual frame that encapsulates them. I think I struggle largely because many of these differences relate back to something basically indefinable: faith in God and in God’s power to ground and orient our relationships.

I of course cannot speak to the diverse realities of secular groups dedicated to social justice, and it is evident that there is no shortage of passionate and dedicated secular people who are just as committed to social justice as any Christian activist. And activist circles remain one of the very few contexts in the secular world where one can experience community. But without a clearly articulated faith commitment, and without the resources of ritual, I have found secular activism mostly discouraging and all too often negative. Working with the Episcopal delegation and the Ecumenical Women’s Council has been the polar opposite: even though we have had 13-hour days, I feel energized rather than exhausted; although I have learned of hardships I cannot imagine, I feel hopeful rather than discouraged; while I have encountered bureaucracy and barriers, I feel confident rather than despondent.

Today we had the privilege of meeting with the Presiding Bishop as well as her presiding Canon. Leading us in closing prayer, Canon Robertson offered thanks to God for the talents and gifts of the people congregated in the room, but he also thanked God for our weaknesses. I have never thought to invoke my own myriad weaknesses as an element that may help us to work for social justice. Weaknesses had always been targets for self-improvement, which, when I inevitably failed to overcome them, I ran away from shamefully. But our weaknesses are our strengths, because they remind us of our essential and unavoidable dependence on one another. Our Christian tradition, drawing on the example we have in Christ, helps us to recognize our short-comings, accept them, and find our complements within community.

We as Christians call on God to ground our relationships through our ritual expressions of worship and prayer; practices which, from a secular perspective, seem bizarre or to some even primitive. Why does it make such a difference to gather every morning in community, sing songs of praise and reflect on scripture? Why should a meeting proceed differently simply because it is opened and closed with prayer? After all, plenty of secular groups in which I have been involved with work hard to cultivate community and take the time before and after meetings to reflect and encourage. In my past, I thought Christian prayer delusional – instead of talking to each other, Christians were addressing something that, I was sure, was not even really there, or in any case not listening. But directing prayers, hopes and fears toward our God is to give them over to a power immensely more important and meaningful than ourselves, and it leads inevitably to the conclusion that we are not simply praying to space. God is here, God is with us, God works on our hearts and fortifies our souls, and God makes our work meaningful, sustainable, and transformative.

A Place and a Voice

by Garrett Braaf, Diocese of Southeast Florida

So I arrive in the morning of February 26. As I got settled into my room, a question suddenly hit me like a freight train: WHY IN THE WORLD AM I HERE?

A wave of fear and disappointment swept over me as I pondered my answer. I knew NOTHING about the United Nations Commission on the Status of Women! Sure, I felt honored to be chosen as a Young Adult Delegate along with some other young adults that had very impressive backgrounds. But honestly, I felt immensely intimidated and amazingly unprepared. "What is my place in an event with a predominately female attendance? Are of any of the other delegates going to like me?" These were just a few questions that were looming around in my mind.

My intimidation was quickly dissipated when I began getting to know the other delegates. I already was acquainted with Keiji and P’Tricia from meeting them at the Young Adult Festival at General Convention in California last July. Everyone else I met for the first time and as time progressed, I became friends with everyone. They were all very cool people to vibe with. We were all able to joke around with each other and yet also knew when it was time to be serious and supportive of eachother.

I learned a lot of startling facts about issues concerning women in the faith such as violence against women, women’s rights as decision makers, incorporating women in all their economic, social and racial diversity, etc.

The majority of the time spent here with the delegation was that of a self-discovery process. I spent lots of time in self-reflection, asking myself, "What role could I possibly play in this entire 'women's-status' movement?"

I DID however found myself leaning towards the standing up against violence towards women. I have a loving mother, an amazing grandmother, 2 wonderful younger sisters and a number of Aunts and I will go the distance to ensure that they NEVER have to face that kind of treatment and therefore I do emphasize for the women that they currently face this in their lives.

Then it hit me. I realized that as a male, I can step up and address my fellow men on what steps to take towards ending impunity and violence against women. Furthermore, in doing so, I can stand in the forefront as an example of how men should treat women.

Facing the Body

by Andrea Bardelmeier, Diocese of New Jersey

Wednesday, March 03, 2010- Our fifth full day at UNSCSW.

I woke up from a Tylenol PM induced sleep this morning after spending some much needed down time yesterday evening after a great day. Several of us had attended a key note address by Sarine Jones, the President of Union Theological Seminary, where she spoke at a Religions for Peace panel. One of the central images she used to convey her evolving beliefs about the feminist agenda is the active body; that we must understand ourselves as embodied. She spoke about how we need to pay attention to our bodily actions as we analyze the ideas that we would like to be shifted. As we review our progress in accomplishing the 12 platforms of from the Beijing Conference, we can see that some of the targeted efforts at equitable health care and education have not actually contributed to the economic or political advancements for women that we had hoped for. Jones’ critique of our approach in the 15 years since Beijing is that we have not focused enough on what women are doing day to day, the realities of their embodied existence. Instead, she said, “We must turn our gaze to those who with no great action are constantly reconstituting the world.” She broke it down into a powerful image which divided the world into several concentric circles of which the world economy, trade, social networks, were all visible. At the bottom of these rings, almost at the level of the roots and humus on top of the earth, lies the cooking, the laundry, and the “wiping of spit from a grandmother’s mouth”, the forgotten work of dedication and love that is provided by women around the world each day and night. In her view, the new feminist agenda should consider how these bodily activities inform our goals and work on this level to change perceptions and actions.

I am trying to work with what she has said here because I think there is some truth in it. At the talk, and even now, it seems quite lofty to me, yet I am still thinking about it two days later. This idea about the importance of our embodiment is of special note to me because I have been sick for the past three days. My body has given out on me at just the wrong time. The emotional and spiritual storm this conference has caused in my body has created a literal sickness in me. Old wounds from have been opened, making me remember the heavy burden of sexism and, even worse, the many traumatizing stories of other women’s experiences that make me feel powerless, they are too much for me to comprehend. All of this to say, I agree that there is something we have miscalculated about how deeply our embodiment is connected with our mental, spiritual, emotional (and maybe political) health. I don’t really understand it, but I think she is on to something and I would like to explore it more….

Translating a Smile

At this point in our week, I feel so physically and emotionally drained. I have forgotten what "well rested" felt like. I just want to take in as much as I can, yet my days are getting harder and harder to get through. The thought of going home makes me sad now. How do I take back what I have experienced here? How do I leave such a tight knit community and city that leaves me longing for so much more?

Yesterday, for the first time since being in NYC, I went to a Eucharist at 815. Although I have loved every minute of all the different worship opportunities I have experienced thus far, this one service for me was like going home. It may have been a slightly different service in a different sanctuary but it was home.

One of the biggest obstacles I have faced this week is the language barrier. This is most definitely a world-wide commission with delegates spanning the globe. For instance, there is another delegate with World Student Christian Federation (WSCF) named Rosina from Argentina. She seems like such an amazing person and the people who have had the opportunity to interact with her say the same. I feel saddened by the fact that I cannot speak Spanish and she cannot speak English. There are so many barriers like this we each face on a daily basis but do we let them get in our way or do we overcome them? I find myself going out of my way to wave and smile at Rosina to let her know how much I care that she is here….she, as well, does the same because something as simple as a smile and sharing a laugh is definitely universal.

“My peace I give you, my peace I leave you, trouble not your hearts. My peace I give you, my peace I leave you, be not afraid.


Christ’s Peace,

Lauren Wainwright