It’s been raining a lot this week, which has brought cool air, sweater weather, and reminded me of my love for peppermint tea. ☕ Today I wanted to share some “sprinkles” from my week: things I’ve been reading and thinking about.
This weekend I went to the Coldplay concert in Minneapolis with the bro and sis. I had a great time!
It’s really quite amazing to stand in an entire stadium with all kinds of different people who are brought together by love for the same songs. I used to think concerts were a waste of time, just entertainment and escapism, but I don’t know if that’s always the case. What would life be without music, one of the things that adds soul and meaning to our existence?
Give me strength, reserve, control / Give me heart and give me soul
Give me time, give us a kiss / Tell me your own politik
Open up your eyes / Just open up your eyes/ And give me love over, love over, love over this
Of course, that experience of unity and joy stands in direct contrast to the hate, terror, and racism in Charlottesville, which is sobering to watch. Words of condemnation hardly feel enough.
I read this post by Richard Beck on Experimental Theology awhile ago and found it thought-provoking. He reposted it yesterday, and I think he raises some great points. An excerpt:
We want pride rather than guilt. We memorialize racial struggle with a heroic symbol of progress. In moral contrast to Germany, there is no memorial in our national mall remembering the lives lost during the slave trade and during America’s years of slavery.
America has a Holocaust. And truth be told, America has two Holocausts: Slavery and the genocide of the Native Americans.
And yet, America has never morally reckoned with either slavery or the genocide of Native Americas as Holocausts. The Confederate flag is not moralized in America the way Germans see the swastika.
One thing living abroad has revealed to me is how important it is in American culture to think of ourselves as the heroes and the good guys; we like happy endings and we like to look forward. This is especially apparent in contrast to Germany. As Beck points out in his post, even when America does talk about our mistakes from the past, we rarely do so without pointing out the “good Americans.” We don’t like to talk about the Americans who enforced Jim Crow laws; we like to talk about the Americans who protested against those laws. When we talk about slavery in the United States, we brush aside that slave owners were Americans, too. Instead, we focus on the heroic narrative of the “good American” or even the “good white American” who helped smuggle slaves to freedom. That is true, but it is not the whole picture.
How can we say “never again” and right wrongs and injustices when we’re not truly acknowledging our role in what happened in the first place? Perhaps, as Beck suggests, we can only truly reckon with and learn from our past when we own up to our wrongs completely, without resorting to consoling ourselves by retelling inspiring narratives of the few Americans who did what was right.
Awhile back I listened to an interesting piece on NPR about a similar phenomenon in Poland–the danger of not owning up to responsibility and focusing only on the “good guy” narrative. This was another good article I came across this weekend with some ideas about what the U.S. could learn from Germany.
“Unlearning the myth of American innocence” was another long article I read this weekend. The article is an excerpt from Suzy Hansen’s forthcoming book, Notes on a Foreign Country: An American Abroad in a Post-American World, which I’m now curious to read.
Bill Browder’s testimony to Congress on July 25, 2017 — honestly, this reads like something out of a spy novel, except it’s real-life. If you’ve been following the Russia investigation, Browder’s testimony might help you understand the significance of the Magnitsky Act and why Donald Trump Jr.’s meeting with the Russian lawyer was a big deal.
Finally, a song I’ve been into:
I meant to post this Sunday, but instead, wishing you a nice, peaceful Monday.
xo,
Sarah
Sarah the Adventurer 