Fairness - The Commentary

Of course we want to believe that everyone means what they say. We’d love to believe that more educating and presentations of the facts convinces people. We think that explaining ourselves over and over again and spending a lot of energy to understand the right-wing and their beliefs (religious or not) will help us get along. We might even be invested in the idea that showing them how much we care about their views – even claiming we “respect” their irrational and bigoted views – will win them over. And when these things don’t work, we blame ourselves, our lack of listening skills, our lack of empathy, our neglect to spend enough time, or our failure to articulate clearly what we mean. We treat ourselves as the guilty party in the debates and actually, though we’d never admit it to ourselves, end up looking down on right-wingers and their dupes in our explanations - as if they’re helpless victims of ignorance, misinformation or illogic, not capable actors who make choices and cling to ...

Probably the most used basis for justifying discrimination, whether it’s against LGBTQ people or others, is the appeal to religious claims. But is religion any more than a scapegoat to hide everything else? And is arguing that it is responsible a colluding with the discriminators? There certainly must be something emotionally satisfying, though, for many people in arguments about religion - whether they’re for “it” or against “it.” Beyond the strategies of politicians who prey on religious prejudices, people argue passionately, existentially, and obsessively about whether religion or Christianity, Islam or another ism, does, causes, or even “is” one thing or another. These arguments have sharpened and become more mainstream through the 24-hour cable news cycle that exploits terrorist attacks committed by people hiding behind religion and the fear-based politics of the right-wing politicians who dominate one of the American political parties. Talk radio and religious bigotry have also f...

You’d think after studying religions around the world that I’d have formed some definite ideas about the afterlife. But, alas, I haven’t. And I know that I’m in good company – some of the religious leaders that I admire and talk with who are attached to certain traditions seem to be just as vague about it all as I am. Whatever the afterlife is like, I don’t live my life because it is some motivation to do better, be more benevolent, love others more, cherish the planet, or try to live more in the present. Those are things I’ve come to want to do without thinking about what they qualify me for later. And, after looking at all the hells that different religions have claimed could await people who don’t follow whatever formula they assert would allow them to avoid these sadistic fantasies, I just think they’re all conceived to manipulate people into conforming to notions that promote insecure personal or institutional agendas, often political and economic ones. But at my stage in life, I ...

Every culture has them. And we know what ours are. They’re the stereotypes, the popular definitions, the expectations, the images of what a lesbian, gay man, bisexual person, transgender person, queer person, or any of the others in that alphabet are supposed to be. They’ve been used against LGBTQI people to portray them as useful caricatures that eliminate LGBTQI peoples’ individuality, even their humanity, so they aren’t seen as individuals but something alien to the mainstream, something deviant, something scary. Discrimination needs to do that in order to justify the victimization of any group of human beings and soothe the consciences of the bigots. What Pride parades often attempted to accomplish was to show the world instead the variety of what it means to be an LGBTQI person. None of the stereotypes used against LGBTQI people fit everyone or even most people that paraded past us. And that’s the reality. But so much is built on the idea that there is a stereotype, a way to be LG...