A Faithful Toolbox – by Emily West

“The master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house.” Audre Lorde

Lorde asks, “What does it mean when the tools of a racist patriarchy are used to examine the fruits of that same patriarchy?” The word tools in this context has a broad-reaching scope because patriarchy has such a massive toolbox, full of language, social structure, physical structure and measurements. Systemic patriarchy is set-up in such a way that using any tools, besides those from the patriarchal toolbox, is counter-intuitive. It might be like trying to fix a American-made car with metric-based tools or using PC components on an Apple product. So, when we are dealt a multi-pronged oppression, we take our broken down systems to the patriarchal shop to get them fixed, as if normative culture is the answer and otherness is the disease.

In this way, normative culture creates the ruler by which all identities are assessed. Otherness is one end of the spectrum, marked bad or deficient, and normative culture is the opposite end, setting the standard for perfection. Along this dichotomized ruler, we measure our identities and the farther an identity deviates, the more it is devalued and discouraged. The markers closest to normative are rewarded with money, status, respect, voice, convenience, security, comfort and inclusion. As identities move farther and farther away from the right, normative side, they encounter a scarcity of basic resources such as money, respect and inclusion.

When we mark the places where our various identities fall along this normative ruler, we utilize the tools of patriarchy and participate actively in our own oppression. We cannot help but compare and compete with our neighbors, taking on the labor of exclusion so that those resting in normative perfection don’t have to lift a finger to perpetuate their power. It is a capitalistic economy of perceived scarcity, a zero-sum game where we buy into the belief that there is not enough for everyone. We buy into the belief that love, inclusion, respect and safety are scarce resources. And the perceived scarcity of these resources induces a panic-driven survival mode of existence.

Here is where the “others,” after defining themselves via the normative ruler, seek to sabotage their neighbors or, at the very least, to remain above them. Here is where we begin to see exclusive fights for liberation and exclusive groups of marginalized people. Here is where the civil rights movement keeps women in the kitchen and away from the voting booth, where the feminist movement amplifies the voices of white and upper class women only, where the gay rights movement leaves the trans* communities to fend for themselves and where the labor rights movement leaves behind any body who does not fit into the ruler’s definition of normative bodies and abilities.

Are we surprised by the length of the process of securing basic human rights? The government, lawmakers and other power-holders are like an elementary school bus driver, listening to the loud tantrums of all the students, unable to distinguish a single syllable. There is no collective voice or message. Even if they had an incentive to listen to us or understand us, the messages would indicate each issue is more important or more immediate than the others.

Lorde asks, “What does it mean when the tools of a racist patriarchy are used to examine the fruits of that same patriarchy?” and answers her own question with the response, “It means that only the most narrow perimeters of change are possible and allowable.”

Recently, within the past three years, I have invested in the long-standing faith and sexuality dialogue, surrounding the basic question: what is the Church to do with the homosexual? And here, again, we open the patriarchal toolbox. We have, again, bought into the culture of scarcity. This time, we have believed that God’s grace is scarce, that the communion of Christ is scarce and that the fruits of Christian community are too scarce to be spread far and wide.

Many Christian churches and their affiliated Christian members have operated out of the patriarchal toolbox so long that there is no separation, no boundary where faith ends and oppression begins. So, when we sit down to address issues of sexuality and gender, we still reach for our patriarchal tools. We cling to the normative definitions of gender and to the race and class boundaries like security blankets, given to us by father patriarchy. The Christian church is one of the most segregated spaces in the world. Likewise, the open and affirming movement within the church is segregated. We take liberation so far and then stop, as if that is enough, as if we have fixed the problem. As a white, queer person of faith, I can expect to see a lot of people like me at open and affirming conferences and gatherings. And I can expect to hear things like “we’ve invited them, and they just don’t come!” when responding to a question about people of color.  We perpetuate the myth that Black churches and Latino churches are homophobic and anti-gay by repeating verbally these ideas and making decisions based on these assumptions.

We need expansive, faith-based tools and not narrow, patriarchal tools. We need to create a collective toolbox, full of implements for dismantling patriarchy and for empowering people to partake in life and liberation. We have to stop seeing our personal experiences of oppression as hyper-unique and isolated. We need to acknowledge our interdependence, especially within a capitalistic structure where we believe that independence is not only possible but imperative.  We need to have theologies and programs and spaces that are wide enough to welcome all people, complex and carrying multi-identities in one body.

We need not feel hopeless. We already have everything we need. Grace is abundant. Love is abundant. A way to access faith-based tools, and to avoid the patriarchal toolbox, is through genuine relationship, genuine community and bringing our whole selves into every space we occupy. We must refuse to accept the myths of independence and scarcity. We must ask, seek and knock. Ask for what we need; seek all that we do not know or understand; knock and wait for people to decide for themselves how they will answer their doors.

In Pedagogy of the Oppressed, Paulo Friere says it like this, “The central problem is this: How can the oppressed, as divided, unauthentic beings, participate in developing the pedagogy of their liberation? Only as they discover themselves to be ‘hosts’ of the oppressor can they contribute to the midwifery of their liberating pedagogy.”

So, may we participate actively in our own liberation. May we set down the tools of patriarchy and refuse to hospitably carry oppression in our bodies, abandoning the culture of scarcity and embracing a culture of abundance and interdependence. May we know the expansive, boundless love and compassion of our Creator.