
Last Sunday my Unitarian Universalist Reverend spoke about a former Westboro Baptist member, Megan Phelps-Roper.
“At 5, She Protested Homosexuality, Now She Protests The Church That Made Her Do It.”
Westboro Baptist if you aren’t aware, protest at LGBTQ funerals. Members wave signs at grieving loved ones that slur LGBTQ people and support divine killings:
God Hates the USA/Thank God for 9/11,” “America is Doomed,” “Don’t Pray for the USA,” “Thank God for IEDs,” “Fag Troops,” “Semper Fi Fags,” “God Hates Fags,” “Maryland Taliban,” “Fags Doom Nations,” “Not Blessed Just Cursed,” “Thank God for Dead Soldiers,” “Pope in Hell,” “Priests Rape Boys,” “You’re Going to Hell,” and “God Hates You.””God hates faggots” “Fags doom nations” “Thank God for 9/11”
Members protest at travelers disembarking from LGTBQ cruises.
This includes parents with kids in tow unprepared for the verbal onslaught. Westboro, also with kids in tow, proudly pass on their hate-disease by enlisting little ones to hold “God Hates Faggots” signs as their kid’s faces shine with confused giddiness.
These poor children have no idea why they’re so excited to scream vile phrases at innocent families, except that mom and dad told them that hating “those people” is God’s will.
And so, it must be.
What I feel about Westboro Baptist can’t be printed. Although I blogged about them for the Huffington Post after the Pulse tragedy in my hometown, “To Westboro Baptist, We Win.”
It’s no surprise that when people challenge our deeply embedded worldview we double down on our argument. It’s the boomerang effect. Calling someone a “fascist pig, libtard, baby killer or evil disgusting homophobe” feels good in the moment but does nothing to change minds.
We try to convince people that we’re obviously right and that they’re obviously wrong with their stupid thinking. Even if we don’t call them stupid, we imply it.
This never works. You and I know that.
Nonetheless, I continue with my rage-du-jour on Facebook. I’m deeply into social activism and frankly, ranting is cathartic. Ranting releases my psychic outrage which seems to be growing exponentially as a Florida Democrat (in the news lately, DeSantis’s dystopian book banning).
I never call names, of course. I save that for the privacy of my home where I shamelessly and grossly let loose in the most unChrist-like way.
I avoid face-to-face politics. And online I present rational arguments with great passion and occaisional snark towards select politicians (thus igniting the tribalism at the root of “us vs them” thinking).
On Sunday my reverend presented five suggestions for how to disagree better.
1) Assume good intentions
I admit that I don’t assume good intentions for Neo Nazis, Westboro Baptist or people in favor of forcing a rape victim to carry her pregnancy.
Now, if I went way down deep into a Christ-like place I might find a morsel of “Forgive them for they know not what they do.” But I won’t, not for the real damage they’re doing.
2) Ask questions
I learned that our question shouldn’t be “Why do you think this (stupid) way?” rather, “May I ask where you learned your beliefs?” Then listen. Meet people where they ARE. We don’t know why they feel the way they do. Upbringing. Brain-washing. A bad experience. A need to belong.
3) Stay calm
If nothing else, do this.
I stay relatively calm in my posts except when referring to laws that take women’s rights away, ban books, marginalize the LGBTQ community, and the like.
Since 2016 I don’t engage in face-to-face opposing politics. It’s relationship dynamite and puts me in a bad mood.
The last Trump fan I spoke to about Trump was about 5 years ago. This woman insisted nothing was wrong with his character, and as for the Me Too movement?
She said women “overreact” at work when men make lewd comments. She said she was smarter than most people in business because she knew how to use her looks to get what she wanted. For example, she agreed to get a boob job suggested and paid for by her boss to “boost her sales numbers with men.”
Sad and brimming with flawed arguments. But do I have the will or energy to guide her to reason? No.
4) Make the argument
And I do, with facts, mainly with centrist media sources like the Associated Press, Pew Research etc. Look for reporting that doesn’t lean left or right. Check media sites with mediabiasfactcheck.com.
5) Speak with love and grace
I’m pretty damn gracious if I do say so, but do I speak with love? Sort of.
Love is a big word, wildly overused and diluted. I can be open to why someone is the way they are. God knows I have issues that shaped my least-best traits.
I can be compassionate until someone uses words and actions that harm (“God hates faggots”). What do you think that does to a teenager struggling with his or her sexuality?
Or the 15-week ban on abortion in Florida with no exception for rape and incest. A girl is raped by her father but has to bear the burden of that horror for 40s weeks? There’s not enough crisis counseling in the world to counter that sort of psychic torture.
People much more patient than I, people willing to open the door with Westboro Baptist, engaged graciously with Megan Phelps-Roper on Twitter. Enough people who vehemently hated her views remained calm, open, asked good questions and listened.
And over time it worked. Megan did a 360 and is now helping change people’s hearts.
It would take Jesus himself to tell me, Come on Laura, do better and graciously engage with people who spew hateful venom.
And even then, I’d need to be heavily medicated.
But we can all do better to close the gap between our divisive worldviews. Stay calm. Don’t insult, walk away, be gracious.
I noticed over the years that a few Trump friends unfriended me. They did it quietly. I just looked them up and they were gone. I completely understand. If I loved Trump, I’d hate my posts too.
And honestly it’s for the best that my QAnon friends went away. I don’t see much hope for us coming together when their views include the conspiracy theory that Hillary runs a secret chain of pizza restaurants as a cover for child sex trafficking.
Sometimes there’s zero wiggle room to disagree lovingly. So just quietly unfriend, walk away, don’t discuss. You won’t change their mind, but you won’t make your relationship worse.
Why Would I Ever Want to See the Barbie Movie? Now I Know.
By Laura G Owens
On July 28, 2023
In Social Commentary
A couple months ago a friend invited me to see the Barbie movie. I appreciated the invite but wasn’t remotely excited about going.
Why torture myself? Feminist me at a Barbie movie? Never.
Until I read the massive buzz and learned that my daughter (25), the last person I expected to see it, wanted to go.
We chatted about the movie’s premise and I told her as a feminist and a Devil’s Advocate, I’d heard Barbie was over the top, excessive male bashing, a radical feminist roar.
So I asked her to let me know what she thought.
The following morning she texted:
“It was great, super whimsical, a satirical world contrasted with the complicated reality of womanhood. I think you might find the story over the top, but it conveys some very important messages every woman can relate to.”
When Taylor was little for the most part she ignored the few Barbies I gave her, the character versions like Cinderella and Belle.
My feminist values justified that Disney Barbies were merely cute merch from iconic family films, and that my daughter was too young to internalize the impossible beauty standards Barbie projected.
Which of course isn’t true.
Beauty and gender role expectations douse kids from day one. But I’m a fun mom and personally I liked the character Barbies.
About fifteen years ago my husband got on me after I bought a black Barbie for a (white) friend’s (white) daughter’s birthday party. Without asking the parents.
“It’s not your place to bring up race. She’s not your kid.”
I insisted the parents wouldn’t mind. But he was right, I was wildly presumptuous. it’s just that I was tired of seeing mostly white Barbies.
That’s long since changed.
My daughter never paid much attention to Barbieland. But once she turned into a tween I told her Barbie was an unrealistic bad female role model.
Growing up, indirect feminist messaging was everywhere in my house. Mostly from my dad. Where he got this I have no idea. My grandparents weren’t exactly poster parents for feminist ideals. I just remember, as kids do, loving them. Although Grandpa was apparently a bit of a tyrant to Grandma.
My dad outlawed nearly all TV, notably smut and female-demeaning fluff, like beauty contests and soap operas. Anything he thought mushed the mind or dumbed down women. So of course because it was forbidden, I watched all of it behind his back. The Waltons, PBS and Little House on the Prarie passed.
If my father caught me watching Miss America or Days of Our Lives he’d say, “What the hell is this crap?” Then he’d turn off the TV and tell us to go read a book.
But I was allowed Barbies because no one was paying attention to toys and feminist messaging back then. The few Barbies I owned were the original 70’s blond, buxom, high-heeled, no-waisted models.
I loved her look. The clothes, the shoes, the cool RV camper and the girly hair salon kit. I lived in Barbieland for a time, although I don’t remember ever wanting to look like her, except for that waistline.
Today Barbie is a liberated bad-ass. But she’s also an individual. Ambitious CEO or homemaker, bougie or boho. A little or all of the above.
I was a stay-at-home mom but I was also career-driven and ambitious before, during and after I stayed home. I’m polite, crude at times, blunt, feminine and feminist. That used to be called an enigma. Now it’s called being who you are.
I wear make-up, high heels and short skirts but I love my hippie thinking. I’m aging with unapologetic vanity. Willing to shout my age but not enter it gracefully. I once thought Botox was an atrocity, now at 58 I embrace it. This doesn’t feel anti-feminist. It feels natural.
The Barbie movie is wildly popular with feminists and wildly unpopular with conservatives. Critics call it a hay day of male bashing, extreme “wokeness,” an angry movie (softened by an iconic beloved doll).
“The Barbie movie has smashed box-office records, brought dress-up back and put feminism in the spotlight.
Specifically, it has many asking: Has a doll long criticized for perpetuating outdated gender norms and unrealistic body image become a feminist icon? Has she always been one?
For context: The movie takes place largely in Barbieland, a candy-colored, women-centered utopia where Barbies hold the positions of power (all of the jobs, really, except for “beach”) and Kens are essentially peripheral. That’s painted in stark contrast to the “real world,” of course.” NPR. Rachel Treisman (Host). July 27, 2023. Is Barbie a feminist icon? It’s complicated.
I’ll decide what I think once I see the movie. I’ll be fair. I make a point not to knee-jerk fist-pump with my progressive friends and family on any subject.
And I can laugh at myself, so I can certainly laugh at any woman or man who acts the fool or bimbo or whatever light caricature I’m presented.
I am however, dead serious about equal rights.
Despite its bad reputation, feminism has never been about pushing men down. That’s a paranoid ultra-conservative reductionist narrative that translates into “feminists hate men and are bad for family values.”
Huh?
I like men. Some, not all. I like women, some not all. It’s the person, not the gender that makes me like or detest someone.
Feminism has never meant, at least in later waves, male-bashing or getting off on emasculating men. It does mean unraveling patriarchy and ending culturally manufactured and reinforced male toxic behavior. Which by the way hurts men too (Big Boys Don’t Cry)
Feminism on the whole is simple.
It means equality for both genders. Not at the expense of one, but to the benefit of all.
“Today, (Mattel’s) online store boasts Barbies modeled after inspirational female figures — from Jane Goodall to Naomi Osaka to Laverne Cox — and people with disabilities, from a doll with Down Syndrome to those that come with props like hearing aids and wheelchairs. — NPR. Rachel Treisman (Host). July 27, 2023. Is Barbie a feminist icon? It’s complicated.
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