When company comes

               Langston Hughes is one of my favorite poets. His poems are so beautiful, and I’ve always related to them. Related to his feelings of sorrow when dreams “dry up like a raisin in the sun,” prayed with him to a God to, “Help me to shatter this darkness,” and felt the same anger: “I tire so of hearing people say/Let things take their course. Tomorrow is another day.”

Like Hughes, “I cannot live on tomorrow's bread.”

            I will be careful to say that I know our experiences are hardly similar. But our fights converge sometimes. We both want a different world.

            Currently, this is my favorite Langston Hughes Poem-

I, Too

I, too, sing America.

I am the darker brother.
They send me to eat in the kitchen
When company comes,
But I laugh,
And eat well,
And grow strong.

Tomorrow,
I'll be at the table
When company comes.
Nobody'll dare
Say to me,
"Eat in the kitchen,"
Then.

Besides,
They'll see how beautiful I am
And be ashamed--

I, too, am America. 

There were many responses to my last post, and I cannot address, nor do I want to address, every single one here. I certainly will not apologize or rationalize my right to having an opinion, and expressing that opinion in a way that suits my feelings. I am a passionate person, and I care about things. This influences the way I write. I am passionate, my voice can be loud, and I do not ask for permission on my topics. You don’t think this is a big deal? You don’t think this discussion is one worth having?

You cannot send me to eat in the kitchen when company comes.

More importantly, I want to talk about eating at the table. When I say that there is no good patriarchy, I mean it. In the worst case scenarios, patriarchy uses a monopoly on power to abuse women, and that is wrong.

But even at its very best, benevolent patriarchy, upheld by kind people, still excludes women from maintaining power. Patriarchy tells me there is no place for me at the table. It expects me to sit on the lap of another, while he holds my place.

I have a right to sit at the table. Tomorrow I’ll be at the table, but that doesn’t mean I want to push anyone else out of their seat. I do not think all men are evil, and that women are better. I do not, as one commenter suggested, think “all men are wrong, all men are evil, no man can honestly love, support, and respect women… And women are just better. . . ? Women would never say something to objectify, simplify, or misrepresent men?”

Men and women often push back when we sense our place at the table is threatened. It isn’t right.

Frequently, men tell me I have a place at the table, but not their table. I belong (metaphorically and literally, in the kitchen.) My table there is just as good! It is my divine role to sit at that table, and if I reject that spot, men sometimes will twist my words to justify excluding me. Sometimes women do it too. One commenter kept insisting he knew what I meant, despite an inability to use my words to prove it. He kept explaining to me how I felt:

"I take offense at the idea that just because a leader is male, he must be antagonistic towards women (which is the logical extension of what you are saying, whether you realize it or not.) You are arguing leadership theory in a place where leadership theory doesn't apply, and finding sexism in a place where it doesn't exist. Demonizing leaders because of their gender is not helping the gender discussion, it is undermining it by engaging in the same sort of sexism you are trying to fight."

Maybe there is no sexism at your table because there are no women there to be sexist against? Or maybe, like so many, you just don’t see the empty seats.

I do not believe that all men are inherently sexist, or all leaders in patriarchal institutions are evil. The world is patriarchal, and the church is a reflection of that paradigm. In my mind, one’s willingness to embrace many at the table of power, influence, and equality stems not from their position at the table (a male, a leader,) but how they react to newcomers. There are men in the world, and men in the church, who embrace my spot at the table.

When I criticize an institution that fills up a big spot on my table, or a man who threatens my place, it is valid, but not unkind. I can criticize, and still see good in the subjects of my disagreement. I can criticize, and still believe.

            I can still believe in a God, and maybe someday a church, that sees all of us at the table, “ both old and young, both bond and free, both male and female, whether out of the church or in the church, having no respect to persons as to those who stood in need." (Alma 1:30.)

            Then Nobody'll dare say to me, "Eat in the kitchen," Then. Besides, they'll see how beautiful I am, and be ashamed. Tomorrow, I'll be at the Table.