Who’s Missing?!?
It’s the end of the school year, which means it’s class parties, talent shows and awards assemblies, all day, every day. Note to self…take the last week of school off next year!
So I’ve been in and around classrooms all week, and this morning, in a 5th grade room, I noticed this poster on the wall:
What do you think stands out to me when I look at this poster?
Hint…it’s not the fact that Warren Harding’s middle name was Gamaliel…
Right. They are all men.
I’m aware that this reality isn’t news to anyone, that every day as they grab their backpacks a classroom full of fifth graders looks up at a poster full of 44 male faces.
So what’s the issue?
For me it’s about what the poster communicates, to both the boys and the girls in the class.
For the boys, in part the poster communicates that as a gender they belong in power, that the highest office in the federal administration is something that not only is attainable, it’s theirs exclusively. Surely, this is a message that Tertullian can get behind.
For the girls–and I have had a little girl in this particular classroom this year–the poster communicates that as a gender they belong on the outside of power, and that if a woman is going to make it into the highest office in the land, they’ll first need to overcome 200+ years of national praxis. Is it subtle? Yes. But it’s real.
Models are important, which is why, someday, I hope a classroom full of fifth graders, boys and girls, can look up at such a poster and see:
Diversity.
What’s in a Verb?!?
The tag line for this blog reads “One guy’s attempt to engage the reality of male privilege from a Christian perspective.” Over the years, “engaging the reality” has taken on a variety of verbs.
For example, sometimes I talk about “surrendering” or “laying down” male privilege. For me, this captures my conviction that men must relinquish their culturally-afforded power in a way that empowers the women around them.
Other times, I’ve used the verb “plundering.” I like this one. It’s as if male privilege is a treasure chest waiting to be looted and repurposed. I suppose there can be a Robin Hood like quality to how I think about male privilege, sort of a “steal from the powerful to uplift the disempowered” kind of idea.
More often, I’ve gone with “leveraging” male privilege. This is straight up power language, where male privilege is a commodity that can be utilized to raise up women.
Whatever the verb, Andrew Grill just did it.
I came across this article the other day. It tells the story of Grill’s spontaneous, in-the-moment decision to (insert verb here) his male privilege.
It turns out that Grill, Global Managing Partner with IBM Consulting, was invited to sit on an “Online Influence” panel in Cardiff, Wales. As he took his seat, he realized that the panel was all-male. Though two women had been invited to be on the panel, they had declined, leaving the audience to hear a presentation on the future of social media and online influence from six (counting the panel chair) middle-aged men.
At one point, a (gutsy) woman named Miranda asked the panel this question:
“Where are the women?”
Which prompted this turn of events, in Grill’s words:
What happened next changed the whole dynamic of the panel, and the discussion, and it lit up Twitter.
I offered to give up my seat on the panel and invited Miranda Bishop onto the stage. As I heard discussed after the panel, there was some encouragement from those sitting around Miranda, and she came forward to sit on the panel for the rest of the session. In fact as Miranda tells it on her blog post about the experience:
As I made my way down from right at the back of the hall I think my whole body turned red from blushing. Also it’s actually quite lucky that this was a conference about something I am pretty well-informed on in hindsight…
After the event, I heard that the organizers literally were looking through their hands wondering what this crazy Australian had done, and fearful of what might happen next.
As it was, Miranda brought an amazing perspective to the panel as a 26-year-old small business owner. She explained that when she left school she found it hard to get a job so she started her own social media training agency, “Talking Social Media”.
The response to our new panelist was extremely positive, as I had expected.
Well now.
Let’s recap. It’s the middle of the capstone panel at a significant tech conference. Perceiving that the panel was poorer for being mono-gender, one of the expert panelists, a man who earlier in the conference had given a keynote address, chooses to get up from his seat and invites a woman from the audience to come take his chair. She seizes the opportunity and conference attendees benefit from her perspective.
So what’s the right verb to describe what Andrew Grill did with his privilege? Surrender? Lay down? Plunder? Leverage?
How about “all of the above.”
My Friend Mercy
Long ago, I did my undergrad studies at a college, Cal Poly SLO, where you had to produce what’s called a senior project in order to graduate.
At the time the senior project requirement felt like a doctoral dissertation; now that I’m looking ahead at an actual dissertation, the senior project feels like more of a glorified book report!
Anyhow, as an undergraduate history major, I had a lot of options for what I could study for my senior project. After all, history is a pretty broad discipline! But since I was taking a bunch of women’s studies courses at the time, and because I had long had an interest in colonial American history, I decided to ask one of my professors for a topic that would encompass those two topics.
Rob Dixon, meet Mercy Otis Warren.
At the risk of dragging you back to your 5th grade history class, Mercy Otis Warren was an American patriot during the Revolutionary War. Using her sarcastic wit, keen intelligence and her writing skills, she published a number of plays and pamphlets lampooning the British. Then, after the war, she turned her focus to telling the story of the new nation, ultimately becoming the first woman to write a history of the American Revolution.
Through it all, Warren’s concern was for the rights of the individual. She was a classic (and ardent) anti-Federalist. In fact, she refused to publish her history until Jefferson’s presidency, since they were ideological soulmates.
For my senior project, I wrote a paper on Mercy Otis Warren’s views on politics and gender, and the intersection thereof. And I had the chance to read it through the other day. Here’s my thesis:
“Liberty pervades Warren’s writings. It is no accident that Warren’s concern for the status of women in her society shows in those writings. Her advocacy of their accomplishments and her sympathetic portrayal of their struggles is concordant with her concern for the individual amid the constraints of a tyrannical oppressor. As she championed the cause of the individual in the face of a potentially controlling government, so she desired to celebrate the role of the woman in the midst of a male-dominated society. Mercy Otis Warren’s acclaim for the role of women in the Revolutionary era was consistent with her unfailing belief in liberty, as illustrated by her strong anti-federalist views.”
What do you think? Sound like me?
A couple of closing reflections…
First, it’s a bit surreal to read something you wrote 20 years ago. On one hand, my writing voice still sounds the same, at least to me. On the other hand, I don’t think I would’ve passed that paper, knowing what I know now. Or at least I would’ve had a lot of ideas for revisions!
Next, it’s a cool thing to read something you wrote 20 years ago and see how it lines up with your current passions. I guess you could say that I was challenging Tertullian even as a college senior.
Third, it’s always good to identify historical mentors, and Mercy Otis Warren has been that for me. In particular, I love Warren’s use of the pen as a weapon for social change, as well as her prophetic advocacy for what she believed in. Those are two things I aspire to as well.
I’ll close this post with the same words I closed my senior project:
“In sum, in actively proclaiming both her firm anti-federalist conviction in the inalienable rights of the individual and her conviction regarding the equality of the sexes, Mercy Otis Warren explained her ultimate belief in liberty. Her conviction was disciplined, consistent and pervading. Nothing should inhibit liberty: liberty for her children, liberty for a young nation, or liberty for women.”
Manhood and Power
Last week I read this article, from my friends at The Junia Project, entitled “A Response to John Piper – What Does it Mean to be a Man?” It’s an insightful piece throughout, but here was one particular portion that caught my attention:
So to answer Piper’s question, according to scripture and observations of history and the current day, I believe one of the things it means to be a man in this world is to be privileged. Things tend to go easier for many men in contrast to women. Men tend to rule things – governments, businesses, families, churches. But this is a result of sin, and not God’s original plan.
And what are Christ followers supposed to do? They are supposed to “deny themselves“, they are supposed to consider others as better than themselves, they are supposed to “yield to one another out of reverence for Christ“.
Long-time readers of Challenging Tertullian won’t be surprised that I’m choosing to quote this particular excerpt. After all, it captures several of the core aspects of my message.
First, that the playing field is not level when it comes to gender and power. Just about every social metric confirms this biased reality. Need proof? Here.
Second, that this uneven playing field is not representative of God’s creative intent. Despite what you might have been led to believe, God didn’t create a world where men are meant to dominate and women are destined to be subordinate. Instead, we live in a “Genesis 3 world,” one were the manifest power disparity is the tragic result of human sin. And, as God’s agents on earth, a good part of our call is to advocate for gender justice both with individuals and in systems.
Third, I so appreciate the Matthew 16 and Ephesians 5 references above. Indeed, as followers of Jesus we are called to deny ourselves and to submit to one another. And, as a man who has received a measure of privilege in this world, I have come to understand that I have a particular call to leverage my power in a way that blesses the women around me, and in a way that balances out the scales regarding gender power.
The Junia Project post ends with a word about discipleship, about how women must be formed into disciples of Jesus, not of culturally-informed expectations around gender. Amen, and I will add:
May it be so for men as well.
“Let the Women Soar!”
Our airborne daughter Lucy. Take that Tertullian!
What My Lawnchair Showed Me
As parents to four grade schoolers who are into all manner of sports, we travel around with a the equivalent of a Big 5 Sporting Goods store in the back of our minivan.
I’m talking a collapsible bench for the team to sit on, cones and practice jerseys, pop-up goals, frisbees, basketballs, softballs and a massive bag of soccer balls. I mean, if I’m not careful, when I open the back gate, all of a sudden it’s a yard sale…
And, in and amongst the pile of gear is a lawnchair or two.
Such as this one:
This particular baby is sweet. Its a Tommy Bahama, and I got it for my birthday last month. It’s got all of the amenities you could want, including side bags, a neck pillow, backpack straps for an easy carry and about 5 different reclining settings. It’s really the Cadillac of lawnchairs.
All of that said, there’s one problem with this otherwise perfect lawnchair:
I can never close it.
For me this thing is worse than a Rubik’s Cube. It’s the Sphinx. It’s like Stonehenge; no one knows how to solve it. They should do NPR podcasts on the mystery that this chair presents.
In my defense, other people struggle to fold this lawn chair as well. But that doesn’t change the fact that when push comes to shove (literally), and I can’t close the chair, I think this:
I’m a man. I should be able to do this.
Why do I think that?
Perhaps it’s decades of being told that men should take care of the sporting equipment. Or, maybe, it’s the ingrained logic that physical tasks are a man’s domain. Or perhaps it’s the socialized narrative that says that solving mechanical problems is a man’s work.
Or perhaps my unthinking and illogical conflation of the act of folding up a lawnchair and my identity as a man suggests that Tertullian himself was a soccer dad?!?
Whatever the reason, all I know is that somehow I feel less manly when I can’t close the stinking chair. So, the other day, with the track meet rapidly drawing to a close, I turned to face the challenge. And what do you think I did?
Here, let me show you:
That’s right. I texted a friend of mine to ask for help. You see, she also rocks a Tommy Bahama chair at sporting events. And, sure enough, she walked me through it.
What’s the moral of the story? Maybe, just maybe, laying down male privilege can be as simple as…
Asking for help.
Welcome Charlotte!
All of the hubbub over Her Royal Highness Charlotte’s arrival last week reminded me of the run-up to her brother George’s arrival more than 2 years ago, and Great Britain’s messed up history with the (mercifully) now defunct rule of primogeniture.
I don’t understand the American obsession with British royalty. I mean, Princess Kate gets pregnant and we go gaga on this side of the pond. Sending American news anchors to report live from Buckingham Palace on the status of the princess’ morning sickness? Really?
After all, once upon a time didn’t we fight a war to rid ourselves of the British monarchy?!?
But I digress…
It’s not often that we read about male privilege being codified, but that’s been the reality over the centuries in Great Britain and in other countries as well. Denmark? Yep. Japan? Yep. Spain. Sure.
It’s called primogeniture, the right of inheritance according to birth order. Historically, the law of primogeniture has demanded that female heirs are excluded (or bypassed) from inheritance in favor or their younger brothers. Primogeniture has been the law of the Commonwealth in Britain for generations, and women, like Elizabeth, would ascend to the crown only in the absence of a male heir.
Now, finally, it appears that English primogeniture has run its course. As that tiny baby (Or is it twins? News at eleven!) begins to grow, British Parliament is working to officially change the law so that whether it’s a boy or a girl this future heir will one day become king OR queen.
It’s about time.
And yet here’s the thing: lots of people think that boy babies are more important than girl babies.
This is certainly true globally. This heartbreaking article, “It’s a Girl: The Three Deadliest Words in the World,” chronicles the global “gendercide” underway in many countries in the world. Here’s an excerpt:
“The statistics are sickening. The UN reports approximately 200 million girls in the world today are ‘missing’. India and China are said to eliminate more female infants than the number of girls born in the US each year. Lianyungang in China has the worst infant gender ratio on record with 163 boys born for every 100 girls. Taiwan, South Korea and Pakistan are also countries in which unwanted female babies are aborted, killed or abandoned.”
It’s a tragedy, but it’s one thing to see this brand of male privilege in far-flung places. What about closer to home?
Here it’s subtler of course, expressed more in how soon-to-be parents talk about their preference for a boy, or maybe in the slight sigh of relief when the doctor announces their new son. In fact, according to this Gallup poll, if they can only have one child, 40% of Americans say they would want a boy while only 28% would want a girl.
Why do you think this is?
Could it be that because in general our social convention preserves the family/last name though the husband the birth of a male child is seen as a guarantee that a name will perpetuate into the next generation?
Could it be because there’s a word on the street that tells young parents that boys are easier to parent than girls?
Could it be that because of the reality that we live in a society that favors men, we know that our boy children will have it just a bit easier than our girls?
And/or could it just be that as a culture we fundamentally have this internal bias that says that boys intrinsically have more value?
In the Dixon house, our son Josh is our firstborn, and over the years we’ve given him three little sisters. Our girls are perhaps a bit too empowered and I can’t remember the last time Josh got his way.
Come to think of it, maybe Josh should move to England?
What Do You See?!?
Here at Fuller for two weeks, I’ve been looking at this picture every day, multiple times a day.
What do you see?!?
I walk by this piece all the time, and it seems like every time I see something different. It’s clear to me that it’s a man and a woman, but other than that, I see all kinds of things.
Sometimes, I see the woman breaking free of the man, as if it’s an image of triumphal escape from the bondage of male privilege.
Other times, I see him pulling her back, as if she has tasted freedom but is being returned to the systematic oppression embedded in our Tertullianized cultural system.
Still other times, I see the man pushing the woman forward, like he’s an advocate, sort of a modern-day Boniface to her Lioba.
And, other times, I see them moving forward together, as if they are somehow struggling to move forward as partners.
I’ll walk by it again today, and I’ll probably see something different. But maybe that’s the point. Good art speaks to you in different ways, at different times.
And it seems appropriate.
For on this journey toward gender equality, sometimes we’re victorious, sometimes we’re enslaved, sometimes we’re advocates, and sometimes we’re partners.
A Beautiful Picture
Let me tell you about my friend Boniface.
Born Wynfrith of Crediton in 675 and later known as Boniface, this Anglo-Saxon monk has been called the Apostle of Germany. Boniface is known to history for his many ministry achievements, including the work of conversion, church reform, propagating the Benedicine rule, and founding a number of monasteries, most notably the large one at Fulda.
Boniface had a long and fruitful ministry career. As quoted in Constants in Context, “still filled with missionary fervor as he neared eighty, he left his administrative responsibilities to others and went to work in Frisia, where he and fifty companions were martyred.”
Martyred at 80. Think about that.
Basically, what I’m saying is that Boniface was no joke!
On top of all of this, history tells us that Boniface was also an advocate for women. Again, from Constants in Context:
“It is quite significant that [Boniface] called upon women to share explicitly in mission on a wide scale for the first time in the post-Constantinian period. For example, Lioba (Leoba) was called from her cloistered monastery in England and became the abbess of such a women’s monastic-mission community at Bischofsheim.
‘She [Lioba] was learned not only in Holy Scripture, but in the works of the Church Fathers, in canon law and in the decisions of all the councils…Learning was no mere decoration, it was what made Lioba an abbess-founder, whose disciplines and daughter houses spread like good seed over new-plowed fields. Her learning, then, was an aspect of her holiness, for it was the very stuff of that good order, that rootedness in faith and tradition, which the biographer finds so worthy of her monastic foundations.'”
This is awesome, yes? Boniface goes to bat for women in his context, even in the period after Constantine, when the status of women in the church took a significant step back. Today, we need more men like Boniface in the church, men who will take their power and leverage it to raise up women like Lioba into leadership and influence.
And yet the story gets even better. Because evidently Boniface saw himself as a true partner to Lioba. The authors continue:
“Boniface requested that Lioba be buried in his tomb, so that as they had shared in the same missionary partnership, they might wait together for the resurrection. This seemingly strange request (and it was considered such by many of Boniface’s contemporaries) can be seen as a powerful symbolic statement regarding the collaboration and equality between women and men in mission, and as a challenge that, while not always met in mission history, certainly has resonance today. In this particular case, Boniface’s monks did not honor his request, but its significance still stands.”
Yes it does. What a picture of gender equality, partnership and reconciliation.
So, today, I honor my friend Boniface, advocate for and partner to women when such things weren’t cool, in his life and even in his death.
Dispatches from the First Church
This week, I’m challenging Tertullian at Fuller Seminary in Pasadena.
And I mean that literally.
Today, in class, we were talking about the implications of Tertullian’s commitment to demonstrate that Christianity dovetailed nicely with the highest Roman moral standards. All of a sudden, up on the powerpoint popped this question:
“If you were a missionary meeting Tertullian today, what would you say to him?”
I laughed out loud.
At which point, I had to explain to my classmates that I would indeed have a few things to say to Mr. Tertullian, and that none of them would have anything to do with ancient Roman moral standards. Which ultimately resulted in me quoting Tertullian’s despicable description of women as “the Devil’s gateway.”
Tertullian, consider yourself challenged.
And, also, consider yourself wrong. Because the evidence is that the first church thought and acted differently than Mr. Tertullian. According to Bevans and Schroeder in their book Constants in Context, in the first church women were valued more highly than ever before. They write:
“In the first place, more women than men converted to the Christian faith, including a significant number of high-status women. Recognizing that there were a number of factors, most writers recognize ‘that Christianity was unusually appealing [to women] because within the Christian subculture women enjoyed far higher status than did women in the Greco-Roman world at large.’ Important aspects of this improved status and human dignity are reflected in the Christian condemnation of infanticide (which was most often female infanticide), divorce, incest, marital infidelity and polygamy–common practices that victimized women in particular. Christians respected and cared for widows instead of applying great pressure on them to remarry. In contrast to the general situation in which women were frequently forced into pre-pubertal, consummated marriages, Christian women ‘were married at a substantially older age and had more choice about whom they married.’ Underlying this Christian appreciation of the human dignity of women is the basic belief that all people are equally children of God.”
Not only were women more highly regarded by the first church, there is evidence that the pre-Constantinian faith community put them to work in ministry as well. That happened in more “official” church offices such as apostles, prophets, co-workers and laborers. But it also happened in two other critical ministerial contexts of the day, as house church leaders and as martyrs. Bevans and Schroeder write:
“From this perspective we see that women were very much involved in the predominant model of mission, especially within the household, the house churches and the group of martyrs. This is all the more significant given the subordinate role of women in the general society.”
So, let’s review. Women in the first church were given more dignity than ever before and were deployed as leaders both in more formal and informal contexts, up to and including making the ultimate witness to Christ as martyrs.
Seems to me like Tertullian needs to rethink his own moral standards.
Challenging Tertullian 