Liberty and Justice for All

Below is an open letter that I wrote to New York State Senator Greg Ball upon learning that he decided to vote no on gay marriage.   He was considered a swing vote, so this is a setback.

Dear Senator Ball --

I'm not one of your constituents, but I'm writing you anyway because your actions affect have a profound effect on my well-being and happiness as a resident of New York State.

I am a hard working New Yorker.  I pay taxes (which pay your salary) and I contribute to my church and several charities.  I am also a gay man in a 15 year committed relationship with a man I love and want to marry.  I have advanced degrees in science and theology, so I am intimately familiar with the most current scientific research on homosexuality, as well as with the passages being cited to justify continued discrimination against LGBT people.  I can state without equivocation that the evidence continues to mount against a narrow-minded and bigoted understanding of the LGBT experience.  To be blunt, you are on the wrong side of history.

The United States of America is a country based on the ideals of justice and liberty.  For me, this means that I should not be allowed to interfere with the private lives of my fellow citizens, including those who happen to be fundamentalists or extremely conservative in their views.  They should be allowed to worship as they see fit, and marry the person they love. But the notions of liberty and justice demand that I be offered the same freedom.  There is no rational argument that can deny that fairness requires that I be treated with the same dignity and respect as my fellow citizens.

I am deeply disappointed in you for voting no.  I hope you can reflect on the mistake you are making, and I hope you feel a sense of shame in denying so many New Yorkers the basic joy that comes from living a life married to the person that they love.

In closing, you should realize that I and many of my friends will do everything we can to defeat you in your next bid for re-election.  I may not be a constituent, but I will make substantial contributions to your opponent, and will organize others to do the same.

Sincerely yours,

Clay Williams, PhD

Cycling Shamans

Today is Positive Pedalers (Pos Peds) Day. We are a group of men and women living with HIV/AIDS who are committed to eliminating stigma through our positive public example.  Today we recognize the courage and contributions that Pos Peds and our supporters have made to our communities.  A recent partial survey of Pos Peds nationwide demonstrated the amazing impact this group has had.  Eighty-nine people (out of several hundred Pos Peds) have responded to the survey at the time of this blog posting.  Collectively, these people had ridden in 451 AIDS cycling events and had raised $2,495,509 for AIDS-related prevention and treatment services in their communities.

For me, a potent (but partial) symbol for what Pos Peds do is the archetype of the wounded healer, which originated in Greek mythology and was brought into modern usage by Carl Jung and Henri Nouwen. Wounded healers take their own suffering and vulnerability and transform it into the power to heal others.  Through our own experience of HIV, we find the courage to ride to ensure that effective prevention and treatment are available to those in need.  What the wounded healer archetype doesn't describe is the transformation that the rider undergoes in this process, discovering new strength and vitality.

Happy Pos Peds day to all HIV-positive cyclists and their supporters.  You are all an inspiration.  Ride on!

Authentic Sprituality

I grew up in a small town where Christian fundamentalism was one of the predominant religious modes.  In this approach to religion, there is a strong tendency to divide the world into "us" and "them."  If you aren't in the "us" category, you are viewed with suspicion, subjected to pressure to change to join the "us" camp, and if you are unwilling or unable to do so, you are rejected.  I've experienced the pain that this worldview causes, both personally and in relationship with people I've known and loved.  

I believe that fundamentalism and other forms of exclusivism must be named as one of the great spiritual lies of our time.  A basic test for the authenticity of any spirituality is how it views those of differing belief. Authentic teachings will treat people with dignity and respect, and will not view them as deficient based on their difference.  I suspect that fundamentalists will howl in disagreement at this suggestion, pointing to narrow passages of scripture that appear to reinforce the exclusive approach, but there is a deeper and broader thread in almost every religious tradition that supports my position.  An example from Christianity is Jesus' interaction with and teachings using Samaritans, the ostracized others of his day.  

Authentic spiritual teachings challenge us, calling us to transcend our limited and harmful views of the world.  Exclusivism fails to do this.  It enables us to feel comfortable with ourselves while judging or condemning others.  A spirituality that is inclusive is challenging, calling us to take the time to get to know and understand others, rather than trying to force them into an "us" shaped mold.  

On the Eve of a Shutdown

It appears we are headed for a shutdown of the Federal Government. I believe that much more is at stake than how much we trim the deficit. If the far right has their way, we will face an America in which the table is sharply slanted toward the wealthy, allowing them to rake money into their pockets at will. This is evident once you realize that Republican Paul Ryan has proposed a tax cut in his long-term plan to reduce the deficit. His plan would benefit high income earners a great deal, even as it would gut Medicare and Medicaid, placing a deeper burden on retirees and the poor.

It seems we never learn from history. We need three things to balance the budget:

• An increase in revenue, fueled by modest and reasonable tax increases on the wealthiest Americans
• Prudent reductions in federal spending that don't unduly affect the vulnerable
• Policies to create a vibrant and sustainable economy

An analysis by the Center for American Progress shows how increasing revenue and growing the economy are essential for balancing a budget, and how this worked during the Clinton administration. Let's try it again.

Thoughts on a Sunday Morning

There is an indescribable depth to life. It can be felt, but not discussed. It is beyond words. For most of us, it remains hidden in plain sight. Awareness of the depth of life must be earned, but not the way we earn money or a reward. It is more like grace (maybe they are the same?), where the process of earning it is a process of acceptance.

We all have glimpses of this depth, but we spend most of our lives being pulled away from it. My glimpses have always been catalyzed by things that have nothing to do with the getting and spending of the world: reading a poem over a cup of tea, a walk through a pristine wilderness landscape, a heartfelt conversation with someone I love, swimming in the ocean.

The common thread that ties these things together is wholeheartedness. A swim in the ocean while thinking about a project won't cut it. Listening to a friend while texting someone else won't do. Walking through the wilderness with my iPod on shuts it down. Giving what I'm doing only a portion of my attention keeps me at the surface of life. Depth requires our full attention, and the risk of commitment.

World AIDS Day Haiku

rain against window

gray clouds roll across the sky

meditate on loss

Giving Thanks

My childhood Thanksgivings were full of anticipation, excitement, and family. I grew up in Farwell, Texas, a small town on the New Mexico border. My childhood home was less than two blocks from my that of my paternal grandparents, and the town was full of aunts, uncles, and cousins.

The anticipatory fever for Thanksgiving would start a week or two before the actual holiday. It was catalyzed by my father, who would begin talking about the Macy's parade, turkey, and my grandmother's unbelievable cornbread dressing. He would ask, "Are you ready for some dressing?" or say, "I think we need to see some of those giant balloons. Did you know that it takes 20 people to hold one down?" He was clearly looking forward to the holiday, and especially to seeing it through the eyes of his kids.

But it wasn't only talk that excited me. My grandparents were known as Bonnie and Pappy, and on my near daily bicycle trips to their house, I would encounter the physical preparations that let me know that the holiday was approaching. After making me a Dr. Pepper float, Bonnie would tell me what she was making, or show me the early components that would become our Thanksgiving feast. The excitement would grow as I saw cornbread drying to become the base for the dressing, or her homemade pie crusts, full of flaky goodness. And even though she had major amounts of cooking to do in the days ahead, Bonnie would find time to make a pan of gingerbread with me, which she, Pappy, and I would eat warm from the oven with pats of sweet butter.

I would awaken with excitement Thanksgiving morning, charge into the family den, and turn on the television. We would watch the long anticipated Thanksgiving day parade, and my father would exclaim about the difficulty of wrangling the balloons with each one that made its ways down the route. I loved it, but was always a little worried about the people in the parade being cold.

The actual meal was always at Bonnie and Pappy's house, and was always at noon. My mom, dad, sister Deana, and I would head down the block (driving in the car!), where we would meet up with my Uncle Elmer, Aunt Peggy, and cousins Deb, Greg, Brett, Kevin and Amy. Bonnie would be cooking away and expressing a low level of anxiety, which was totally unnecessary given her kitchen skills. Pappy would tell stories, play games, and joke with all of us kids.

Finally, the moment would arrive - it was time to eat. The family filled up three tables, one big one for adults, and two smaller ones for the kids. However, there was always an argument among the adults about who could go and sit at a kid's table. They weren't outposts, they were where the real fun was. We would eat and eat, devouring platefuls of Bonnie's succulent turkey, savory dressing, sweet candied yams, and green beans that were saved from being a boring vegetable by a little bit of bacon. After we thought we couldn't eat anymore, it was time for pie: pumpkin, lemon meringue, and chocolate were always among the choices. After lunch, we would help clean up and then head for home, where the agenda was napping and watching football. We would all meet up again at Bonnie and Pappy's around 6pm for a second meal of leftovers.

This year I lost my dad, which makes these memories especially poignant. I realize just how lucky I am, and how special my childhood was. I had parents who found delight in recognizing and amplifying the things that delighted their kids, and grandparents who found loving and spoiling their grandchildren to be a higher calling. I had caring aunts and uncles, and cousins who were ready pals and playmates. Today I am lucky to have my loving partner David (and his marvelous family), my sister Deana, my wonderful nieces (Lacy, Anna, and Maddie) and nephews (Don, Will, and Edwin), and a remarkable collection of relatives and friends. They all continue to fill my life with light and love.

I grew up knowing that I was loved by and important to many people, and that has made all of the difference. On this Thanksgiving Day, I am thankful for this legacy, and I hope to express my gratitude by reflecting the same loving attitude into the lives of my own family and friends.

Happy Thanksgiving.