Addressing Racism–even when you think you know it all

Addressing Racism–even when you think you know it all March 9, 2017

reconciliationAddressing Racism

Two years ago, I posted this in the facebook group Black Latter-day Saints:

I’ve seen a youtube going around which is focused on Jane James not receiving her strongly desired temple blessings. Those letters move me deeply, but I don’t believe Jane would want us to focus on what she did not receive, but on her faith despite her trials. I am putting her story here to remind everyone of how she chose to depict her life. She requested that her life story, as she dictated it, be read at her funeral. When we in the Genesis Group commissioned a sculpture of an event in Jane’s life, the sculptor chose the scene of Jane giving two pounds of flour to Eliza Partridge Lyman–“it being about half she had.”

I then posted the life story of Jane James, which can be found here.  I made my point clear, and I was sincere about it.  I thought that Ordain Women was taking Jane’s story and using it for purposes inconsistent with what Jane herself had wanted to focus on.  I did not get specific about it, but I will here.  I did not like the focus on the ugly fact that Jane, after requesting to be sealed to Joseph and Emma Smith as a child (as per Emma’s request, according to Jane),  was sealed to them as a servant, Bathsheba Smith being proxy.  I hate the fact that that happened.  Hate it.  It says so much about where people’s minds were at that time.  I suspect that Jane also hated it, and that she refused to accept it, inasmuch as she continued to petition church leaders for her endowment AFTER that mockery of the requested sealing happened.  Leaders, reporting on Jane, said, “Jane James, not content with what has been offered to her, has requested. . .”  According to their perspective, Jane simply needed to understand that “because of Cain,” she could not receive what white members received–and worse, that she could only expect to be a servant in the after-life, not a queen.

The First Production of _I Am Jane_ in 2001, Denise Cutliff playing Jane.
The First Production of _I Am Jane_ in 2001, Denise Cutliff playing Jane.

When I wrote my play I Am Jane, I included Jane’s poignant pleadings for temple blessings to church authorities, and their responses.  I was aware of this sealing of Jane as a servant to Joseph Smith, but chose not to include it in my script, just as I chose not to include Jane’s learning of polygamy while living at the Mansion House.  Those subjects seemed to me to distract from the focus.  Still, my play was controversial because it depicted white Mormon men behaving badly, something BYU was nervous about.

Many people shared Jane’s story after my post in Black LDS, but ultimately that post resulted in my losing more black friends than I am entirely sure of.  And the fault was largely mine.  I have gone over the conversation many times since it happened to understand what I failed to understand when I originally posted.  I will not use the names of the commenters, because this post is largely about what I failed to see, not about their words.

I will call the primary commentator Kinshasa, which is a name I love.  Kinshasa said:

 I plan on focusing on whatever part of Jane’s life I want to, when I want to and how I want to. Just because a white man put a picture of Jane giving a white lady some flour on her grave doesn’t make this the most important event of her life. Jane gave and continues to give me so much more than flour, and I honor ALL the facets of her legacy.

I love this comment by Kinshasa now, but at the time of its posting, I had an “I deserve better treatment” moment–the moments which peace-builders must boldly confront, as they pit us in opposition to someone who is disagreeing with us.  After all, hadn’t Darius and I brought Jane James to a stronger light than she had had heretofore?  Hadn’t we found the funding and the sculptor for that monument?  My own pride blinded me to the real message:  “You, Margaret Blair Young, are not seeing everything, and part of WHY you are not is that you are white.” I now recognize the truth of that statement, but I did not recognize it then.  I was proud of what I personally had done for Jane, but Jane in no way belonged to me or to anyone else privileged to tell her story.  If you, when you read Kinshasa’s last statement had any inclination to congratulate me on all I have done for Jane or to object to the words for any reason, check yourself.  What she says is true.

My response was:

jane monumentHe is Mauri. He was the sculptor. I think people should know as much as possible about Jane. My strong preference is that they know as much of the whole story as possible so that her words don’t get parsed into others’ agendas.

It may be easy to miss my mistake there.  I certainly missed it.  I was truly behaving as Jane’s proprietor.  I was the guide, and I had all of the information on who had done the sculpture, what Jane had said, etc.  But I had no right to be a guide.  I had a right to present my own work in Jane’s tribute, but never to assume that my own knowledge privileged me. My knowledge was a gateway for others.  Seeing it in any other way was arrogant.

Kinshasa’s responded thus:

Ok well just because a Maori man decided that Jane should share her headstone doesn’t mean that it’s the story that has to always be highlighted. Now do I think that OW is guilty of hijacking and co-opting the narratives of people of color for the sole purpose of furthering an agenda that could care less about black issues…I think so. But who can tell a black mormon woman that she can’t talk about Jane being denied blessings of exaltation because of her skin color just cause she posts her thoughts on a site that doesn’t float our boat.

My internal reaction was one which, again, peace builders must learn to recognize and address: “Don’t you know who I am?  Don’t you know what I’ve done?  Would you even know about Jane without me?”

My on-line response was this:

I think you might enjoy the story of the monument. Jane already had a headstone, apparently carved by her only surviving son, Sylvestor. It had the word “Mother” etched across the top. We had been told that there was no stone to mark her grave, so Bruce, Darius and I went to verify that at the cemetery. When we saw that there was indeed a gravestone, we decided to commission a monument on behalf of Genesis. This is the story of that monument–certainly not the ultimate representation of Jane’s life, but one which spoke to many of us: http://www.patheos.com/blogs/welcometable/2014/02/it-exploded-and-other-adventures-in-the-saga-of-jane-manning-james/ .

That may appear to be a rational response, but as I look at it now (and I did get trained in peace-building/conflict resolution as a result of this whole conversation, because I recognized that I was not doing what needed to be done), I see the quiet references to myself.  I drop names and experiences which I had exclusively, thus presenting myself as the expert.

Kinshasa’s response was something which should be truly pondered and examined, and something I have spent some time with:

I’m glad Jane spoke to you, I’m forever GRATEFUL for all the hard work and research you and others did to bring Jane’s legacy out. It’s just that I’m tired of people, in particular white allies, telling black folks what we should see/share in the stories of Black Mormon Pioneers. I don’t like to see Jane trotted out in predominantly white spaces to represent the happy-nappy-token-negro or to represent the Mormon-feminist-mammy. You might like to sing I don’t feel no ways tired, but black people do get tired and Jane was human, she had tired days, she had days where she PLEADED for Temple blessings in a faith she she gave EVERYTHING to and was DENIED over and over again. The very people whose life she saved by giving of her flour, didn’t think she should have all the blessings of eternal life. That’s what spoke to me on the days I got called a nigger at mutual. That there was someone who had been through what I had been through and she stayed in the Gospel. Why can’t folks let Jane speak to us without always interrupting our conversation?

Was it possible that I, without any black personal history in my veins, had used Jane Manning James–who I truly loved?  Kinshasa’s memory of being called by a racial ephithet does put her in a position to understand Jane James better than I ever could.

Another commentator, one who remains a friend, added these important insights–ones we must address with urgency if we are to progress.  This applies to the LDS Church and to any other organization which is ready to deal straightforwardly with the past:

I want to add that the effort to “blackwash” Jane’s history into a happy ending story is just as problematic for white saints. Until the greater part of this Church comes to grips with our discriminatory past, we will never get to the point where ALL of God’s children will be eligible for the blessings of the Gospel. So long as some people can look at Jane’s story and come to the conclusion that “it wasn’t THAT bad … she was content enough to stay,” there won’t ever be a sense of urgency for full inclusion.”

Yet, let’s be clear. It was THAT bad. As a black convert, most of the people whom I love most in the world won’t even consider joining “that racist church.” In fact, they very often question my sense of self-worth for doing so. The 15 YEARS after the Civil Rights Act that this church insisted on a priesthood apartheid cost the kingdom 30 MILLION souls that will never enjoy the fruits of the Restored Gospel (at least, on this side of the veil).

THAT should cause us all some collective angst. And any attempt to wall off Jane’s story from that larger narrative just leaves us more apt to separate even more souls from the Restored Gospel in the future.

I don’t know how many times I have re-read this full conversation in an attempt to get a better grip on my own failings.  Two years later, this conversation stands as the starting point for what became an enormous division between black and white in Mormonism.  I continue to tell the stories, but I am very aware that any story involving race demands that we not only tell it but do exactly as the last person I quoted said: use full urgency to deal with the past.

How do we do this?
Somehow, we must get the message through to leaders in Salt Lake City that there can be no more obfuscation of the race essay.  It was not done by Public Affairs.  It bears the Church seal. But even if every LDS person had that essay memorized, it would be inadequate.  What are we actively doing to be a Church which has taken care of any serious wrong-doings in our past– and that means in our institutional past and in our personal pasts?  What are we doing NOW to connect our families with black history (or Native American history, etc.) and to provide true friendship to anyone in our midst who needs a real friend.  I remember Mel Hamilton, one of the Black Fourteen, suggesting simply breaking bread with someone you are initially afraid of because of their skin color. How do we find ways to encourage friendships between our families as part of our commitment to overcoming racial division?

Academics need a special warning.  It is easy for us to consider ourselves experts.  If we have black friends, it is easy for us to excuse ourselves from the lived life of racial inclusion because we are already doing so much.  It is easy to point to what we’ve written rather than to actions we have taken outside of our comfort zone.  The Ivory Tower can be a tempting comfort zone, and we maintain ourselves in its easy chairs as we pontificate on the issues–even if we do it insightfully.  Unless our articles and books are matched by our unseen actions in seeking true reconciliation with the racial past of the LDS Church and the United States of America, we are as “sounding brass and tinkling cymbals.”

For anyone in the LDS Church who thinks we’ve got this problem licked, I hereby call you to repentance–just as I call myself to repentance.

For anyone who dismisses inner city issues for political reasons, STOP IT.  If you have no desire to serve the poor and needy INCONVENIENTLY,  you will need to seek opportunities to change your heart.  They are available.  See justserve.org .

I commit myself to learning from my mistakes.  I acknowledge that I have made many mistakes.  I ask forgiveness of those whom I have offended in my arrogance, and I commit to continuing the great battle towards living out and spreading the promises which God has made to all.

The photo I placed at the beginning of this post is of the statue “Reconciliation” which is at Coventry Cathedral and at Hiroshima.  Regard.less of what has been ruined, reconciliation is possible.  I believe that.

 


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