Letting Go of Shame: A Psychoanalytic Reading of The Prodigal Son

Series: Diary of A Divinity Student (Entry #4)

This past semester, I participated in a Student-Faculty Colloquium at Howard University School of Divinity.  I was a student-respondent among three faculty-respondents.  This exercise allowed me to further explore an area of great interest: the intersection of psychology and religion.

(A Response to Dr. Jay-Paul Hinds’ “Shame and it’s Sons: Black Men, Fatherhood and Filicide”)

    What is filicide?  Upon preparing my response, I asked myself this question.  As a result, I could not help but notice that Christ, himself, was a victim of filicide.  According to the Christian story, we are saved by a Father, who begat a son, and killed that son (by way of the cross).  While we emphasize Christ’s degradation and use it as a source of empowerment that invites us to a personal faith-journey of metamorphosis, there is something quite unsettling about this model.  While Dr. Jay-Paul Hinds, in his paper, “Shame and Its Sons: Black Men, Fatherhood and Filicide”, asserts the contrary, it is my opinion, that shame is not a secure base from which to nurture our sons and daughters in the black community.  We are surrounded by a culture of shame.  Furthermore, shame is a complex emotion and it is unrealistic that wholeness can come from such a broken place.  In this response, I have identified the following three areas of shame: theological, societal and familial. 

First, our sons and daughters are oftentimes exposed to a theological shame, as a result of church upbringing.  We are taught that we are to be ashamed of our “sinful” human nature, and that is in fact, proof that we are in need of a savior.  I am reminded of the short story, by Langston Hughes, entitled, “Salvation,” which depicts a thirteen-year-old boy, who was shamed into salvation, if you will.  In fact, our shame is two fold.  Not only are we made to feel a sense of self-disgust as a result of our “sinful” human condition, we are also reminded of the shamefulness of the cross.  Christ sacrificed his shame for our own. Songs such as “I Know It Was The Blood,” further prove this point:

They nailed him to a tree; they nailed him to a tree for me. 

They pierced him in his side; they pierced him in his side, for me. 

One day when I was lost, he died upon the cross and I know it was the blood for me.

Essentially, we are taught that we must admit our shameful shortcomings, accept the gift of salvation, or Christ’s shameful crucifixion was in vain. 

Second, our sons and daughters, growing up in the United States, encounter a societal shame.  It is the shame of bearing black skin.  We live in a land, which enslaved, lynched, and segregated our ancestors, and in many ways still seeks to oppress us today.  Let us take the recent, story of Trayvon Martin, for example.  Many of us know the story.  He was a black, young male, walking through a white neighborhood, on his way to purchase iced tea and skittles, never to return.  And sadly, in our society, such degradation of black males is not uncommon.  Or, for our daughters, beyond the skin, there is a shame attached to black hair.  I am reminded of Tiana Parker, the teary-eyed six-year-old girl in Tulsa, Oklahoma sent home from school because the school “banned natural hairstyles such as afros and dreadlocks.”  Due to these underpinnings of theological and societal shame, I argue that this emotion is not a foundation of familial empowerment for our sons and daughters in the African-American community.  

 

 *Trayvon Martin and Father, Tracy Martin

However, I applaud Dr. Hinds’ use of a biblical paradigm to shed light on family dynamics and issues of mental health.  This is often a taboo topic in the black community.  Moreover, I hold that in the story of the prodigal son, the father is a starting point for analysis of the family structure, not the answer to it. 

Third, Hinds asserts that for both father and son, mutual shame or vulnerability can serve as a platform for empowerment.  Namely, Hinds assumes that the father is in a healthy enough place to relate to his son, to begin with.  Given the social issues surrounding the father-son dynamic, in our context today, of which Hinds states its effects adequately and with much analysis, the end goal of reconciliation by way of mutual vulnerability seems to understate the complexity of the issue.  Next, Hinds assumes that the father is aware of his own shame and willing to admit how it has impacted the father-son relationship.  The father must do his own internal work before attempting to address the son’s.  As the father, he may not be ready to undergo such a difficult process of self-introspection.  Especially, if his own shame as a son (the father) has not been addressed in his own life.  If the father and son come to a healthy place were reconciliation is possible, it will not come from a place of familial shame.  The father is not all encompassing, possessing all of the answers that the son needs for his own development.  For me, this solution echoes the paternalistic-patriarchal model of our theology.  Perhaps some of the questions we ask God, we hold the answers to.   Perhaps the son has more to say than the parable exemplifies. 

           *The Return of The Prodigal Son by Romare Bearden 

 

From what place should fathers relate to their sons and daughters?  In the story, maybe the father did the right thing in not addressing his son’s inner shame.  Maybe the father was aware of what he COULD provide: monetary as opposed to emotional support.  Perhaps the task for the lost son or daughter is to realize what the father can provide—if anything.  Perhaps it is why the prodigal child took the voyage to begin with.  Throughout our lives as sons or daughters, we will leave home many times.  We will leave in search of a community drastically different from the one in which we were raised.  Or, if the home is a toxic place, one’s journey may not permit them to return home often.  Theological, societal and familial shame are not springboards for hope.   In this case, maybe a healthy home is more psychological than physical. Perhaps this was the case for the prodigal son. Perhaps this (realization) is the place from which growth can occur. 

DARE to BE NATURAL!

“Hairstyles such as dreadlocks, afros, mohawks and other faddish styles are unacceptable.”  These were the words in the student handbook at Deborah Brown Community School located in Tulsa, Oklahoma.  On September 11, 2013, seven-year-old Tiana Parker, a student of this school, was sent home because her hair was deemed “unacceptable.”  Her story illustrates that in America, there remains a prevailing perception that black hair is not beautiful in its natural state. 

 Tiana Parker, Age 7

Moreover, this issue affects not only black women and girls, but black boys and men, also.  In fact, Hampton University, since 2001, has banned dreadlocks and cornrows for students (male and female) enrolled in their MBA program.  Sid Credle, the Dean of the Business School, asserts that the ban exists so that students can secure employment in the corporate arena.  But what makes black hair unacceptable or unprofessional?  I have been asking this question for years, and I have never received a satisfactory answer.     

Although naysayers criticize our hairstyles, it seems that we are regarded as unpresentable, unprofessional, and therefore, unacceptable, by virtue of our hair texture.  But by what standards is the beauty of black hair being measured?  In most cases, it is the white standard of beauty.  Although the DNA of our hair is structurally different, somehow we are pressured to imitate white standards of beauty, wear our hair as straight as possible, to mirror the hair texture of the dominant culture.  And if we do not comply, as with the case of Tiana Parker, there are repercussions.  Even, India.Arie’s “I Am Not My Hair” seems to be in defense of her natural, kinky hair texture. 

I want to share this poem I wrote, inspired by my own hair issues and those of some of my former students.  I hope that it will inspire you, or a woman you know.  I hope that it will move you to love your Creator, love Yourself and to love your Hair—texture and all.

 Me, DARING to be NATURAL!

hair peace

for Nancy, Janae and kinky-haired girls everywhere

as you
toil through
tears, comb
courageously
through tangled
standards
of beauty,
may you
realize your
hair's texture
needs no
apology.

as you
brush bravely,
through knotted
insecurity,
battle the
definition
of beautiful,
may you
realize your
hair's heavenly
and
needs no
Miracle*.

*Line of hair products for black women called "Dr. Miracle."

2/2011 

           Dr. Miracle Advertisement

Be Open: On Discerning the Journey

I am convinced, that life is one great journey to self.  With each experience, I have felt the essence of my true self emerge.  It seems that some experiences, more than others, have served as checkpoints on the road of life.  These checkpoints have lead me to reflect on the journey and discern where to go next.  However, I have learned, that just as one who is not familiar with a geographic area is unfit to give directions to a traveler, in the same way, everyone cannot give directions in my discernment process, because everyone does not know the terrain of my heart.  

I spent much of the summer wrestling with this question: “What do I want to do with my life?”  It was then that I remembered having this same conversation four years ago, with a mentor of mine.  She lovingly said, “Kyra, when you figure out WHO you want to be in the world, the WHAT will fall into place.”  Instantaneously, her words brought peace to the tempest in my mind.  However, this summer, I struggled to answer the a newfound question, “Who do I want to be in the world?” 

Not long after asking this question, I came across artist, Martha Graham’s quote:

“There is a vitality, a life force, an energy, a quickening that is translated through you into action.  And because there is only one of you in all of time, this expression is unique.  And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and be lost.  It is not your business to determine how good it is, nor how valuable,  nor how it compares with other expressions.  It is your business to keep it yours, clearly and directly, to keep the channel open… Whether you choose to take an art class, keep a journal [or start a blog], record your dreams, dance your story or live each day from your own creative source, above all else, keep the channel open!”

       On this journey, I will face moments of discernment many times over.  Like the many surfaces of a diamond, which exude light from every angle, throughout my life, I will uncover the many facets of my true self, and “from my own creative source,” reflect my unique essence.  I believe that is who I want to be in the world.  A woman who is true, a woman who is creative, a woman who is open.    

"Or Should I Reprogram the Programming and Get Down?"—A Lesson from Janelle Monae (A Seminarian’s Perspective)

 

 Series: Diary of A Divinity Student (Entry #3)

I have just completed my second year of seminary.  This is what some refer to as the “muddy middle” year.  The year that many students buckle under the pressure of reformulating a self-identity that was once anchored in waters of religious traditions, doctrines and denominations. The year that many of us struggle to find balance on a theological tightrope of sorts, swaying between a space where old ways of thinking no longer suffice and new theologies have yet to be constructed.  During my time of reflection, something lead me to read an email I received about two years earlier from a colleague who had also gone to seminary.  He asked, “Are you in seminary to be trained for a calling or clarify your calling?”  Looking back, I think it is a little of both.

  

During dead week this past semester, I came across a song called “Q.U.E.E.N.” by Janelle Monae, featuring Erykah Badu.  I believe that she has some pertinent theological advice for everyone, especially those of us in seminary.  Her song, laden with religious imagery, explores themes such as: the price of pursuing one’s passion, the correlation between sin and sexuality (if there is one), the concepts of salvation, heaven, and human acceptance, sexual identity (to include same-gender loving people) and salvation, and God’s acceptance of who we are, just the way we are—in our true authenticity.  She writes,

Hey brother, can you save my soul from the devil?
Say is it weird to like the way she wear her tights?
And is it rude to wear my shades?
Am I a freak because I love watching Mary? (Maybe)

Hey sister, am I good enough for your heaven?
Say will your God accept me in my black and white?
Will he approve the way I'm made?
Or should I reprogram the programming and get down?

Amidst the message-ridden lyrics, thought-provoking images and the funky beat, this question would not escape me!  It is my interpretation that, “programming” is a synonym for religious teaching/indoctrination.  "Reprogramming" means reevaluating and recreating these teachings.  “Getting down” then, is a metaphor for discovering personal freedom/living in true authenticity.  As a major part of our culture and socialization, we have been taught many religious principles.  This process (with due respect) has shaped much of who we are.  However, there comes a time where we have the option of reexamining what we believe, discarding beliefs, theologies, doctrines and traditions that no longer promote our growth and embracing those that do.  In my view, Janelle Monae is encouraging all of us not to be afraid of this creative process of re-drawing boundary lines (freeing ourselves) in all areas of our lives.  On the road to self-discovery and living in true authenticity, (finding this place has been the crux of my seminary experience), I concur with Janelle Monae that we should… “Reprogram the programming and get doooown”!  Perhaps THIS is where we will meet God.

Twice in A Lifetime: A Reflection on the 2013 Presidential Election

I remember watching his speech at the 2004 Democratic National Convention in my high school Leadership class, and my teacher, insinuating that the then, Senator, was “going somewhere.” I remember meeting him at Congressman John Lewis' 65th birthday celebration (in conjunction with the 50th anniversary of Bloody Sunday), held at a Georgia hotel, as a high school junior.  I remember quoting him in the ultimate line of my high school commencement speech.  Lastly, I remember, as a college undergraduate, celebrating his election as the first African American President in US history, on U Street in Washington, DC.  Naturally, as I stood on the national mall this past Martin Luther King, Jr. day, awaiting the ceremony for President Barack H. Obama's second inauguration, this sequence of events, like waves returning to a faithful shore, ceased to dissipate in my mind.   

As the crowds increased, I sensed that the moment I was waiting for, the moment we were waiting for, was finally near.  To my front, the sun embraced the sherbet sky, just behind the capitol building.  To my left, college students sat on the ground playing a game of cards.  To my right, a pre-teen sipped hot chocolate while huddled next to his mother.  Behind me, the elders sat in foldout chairs, bundled under sleeping blankets.  We were all waiting.  It was indeed a sacred moment.  

          In fact, what was quite memorable was the prayer of Mrs. Myrlie Evers-Williams.  Her prayer brought me to tears.  It seemed to be deeply heartfelt—as if she encapsulated the very pulse of history, which resided 50 years before, in the heart of her husband, murdered civil rights activist, Medgar Evers.  I imagine that in stopping to honor God for such a moment in history, she was simultaneously honoring the life and legacy of her late husband who was killed because he was organizing, that blacks might have the right to vote.  This very occasion (the second inauguration of our first African-American president) was the summation of that right coming to fruition.

 I was further awestruck that President Obama pledged on the two Bibles: one of President Abraham Lincoln and that of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.!  In that moment, I was reminded of the importance and power of prophetic leadership (I’ll have to expound upon this concept at another time).  I am truly grateful for what I witnessed on the National Mall, that day.  God only knows where I’m going from here.

A Voice Crying Out in the Wilderness: Revisiting Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. On Organizing Clergy and Advocating Worker's Rights

Series: Diary of A Divinity Student (Entry #2)

Although I have been a community organizer since high school, I spent this summer organizing a group that I had not given much thought to “organizing” before: clergy.  Having just completed my first year of seminary, I was ecstatic to be offered an internship with Interfaith Worker Justice (IWJ)—a non-profit organization that invites people of different faiths to join forces and actively address low-wage worker rights/workplace issues.  These issues can stem anywhere from: wage theft (the illegal underpayment or non-payment of workers' wages), or lack of paid sick days, to systemic unemployment.  We augment our approach of advocating for and ensuring worker rights through partnering with labor unions. 

This summer, my task was to plan a prayer breakfast and in so doing provide at least thirty leaders across faith traditions the opportunity to network with one another, as well as learn about the workplace injustices facing food service/hotel workers in the Baltimore area.  While I learned that I have a passion for organizing clergy, I also became painfully aware that the latter might choose not to support these kinds of efforts.  For example, when I asked one particular religious leader if he would be able to join us, he replied: 

I want to commend you for your desire to work with the church in improving economic conditions in America.  I researched IWJ and read over some of the material you provided.  Unfortunately, IWJ advances political goals in a divisive manner that I generally discourage in the church, even when I completely agree with the policy positions.  And to be honest, although I believe that some of your (IWJ's) concerns are in keeping with the Biblical mandate to promote justice, I find the underlying socio-political ideologies and positions your literature has expressed to be antithetical to the well being of those IWJ seeks to help.  In any case, God bless and remember that those we protest are not always the enemy.

I must admit that his response was a little disheartening, at first.  But his logic seemed all too familiar.  It was then that I sought solace in Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s “Letter from a Birmingham Jail”, written on April 16, 1963, to clergy.  King writes (excerpts): 

…I have been gravely disappointed with the white moderate, who is more devoted to “order” than to justice; who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice; who constantly says: “I agree with you in the goal you seek, but I cannot agree with your methods of direct action”[.]  I had hoped that the white moderate would understand that the present tension in the South is a necessary phase of the transition from an obnoxious negative peace, in which the Negro passively accepted his unjust plight, to a substantive and positive peace, in which all men [and women] will respect the dignity and worth of human personality. Actually, we who engage in nonviolent direct action are not the creators of tension. We merely bring to the surface the hidden tension that is already alive.

When I was suddenly catapulted into the leadership of the bus protest in Montgomery, Alabama, a few years ago, I felt we would be supported by the white church. I felt that the white ministers, priests and rabbis of the South would be among our strongest allies. Instead, some have been outright opponents, refusing to understand the freedom movement and misrepresenting its leaders; all too many others have been more cautious than courageous and have remained silent behind the anesthetizing security of stained glass windows.  

After re-reading the piece, I realized that I had encountered the same type of Reverend to which Dr. King addressed this very letter, 49 years ago!  At that moment, I realized that I must be on the right path. By the same token, we (community organizers and leaders) still have work to do!  I could not agree with this Pastor’s statement, “IWJ advances political goals in a divisive manner that [he] generally discourages in the church, even when [he] completely agrees with the policy positions.”  To this, I say, that his stance is non-unique.  I have not known any “political” issues, which do not polarize people.  In King’s time, was not segregation this kind of issue?  For those who support marriage equality, there are those who vehemently disagree.  For those who support women’s reproductive rights, there are those who endorse the contrary.  For those who want better economic opportunities for the 99 percent, there are those who, again, believe the converse.

King continues,

In deep disappointment I have wept over the laxity of the church.  But be assured that my tears have been tears of love. There can be no deep disappointment where there is not deep love.  So often the contemporary church is a weak, ineffectual voice with an uncertain sound. So often it is an archdefender of the status quo. Far from being disturbed by the presence of the church, the power structure of the average community is consoled by the church's silent—and often even vocal—sanction of things as they are.  Is organized religion too inextricably bound to the status quo to save our nation and the world?

I submit that while these kinds of political issues can be “divisive” that is not the goal of those raising awareness around such matters.  As a society, we must get to a place where we are as critical of the systems, which perpetuate oppression as we are of the prophets who bring to light such oppression.  Were Jesus’ assertions about the Law (in comparison to the Pharisees) not divisive?  We cannot let the threat of a little tension, or perhaps a little division, stop us from advancing low-wage worker rights, or the rights of any other group, for that matter!

Additionally, I could not agree with this Pastor’s logic that “Although I believe that some of your (IWJ's) concerns are in keeping with the Biblical mandate to promote justice, I find the underlying socio-political ideologies and positions your literature has expressed to be antithetical to the well being of those IWJ seeks to help.” The Biblical mandate to promote justice should outweigh any potential political dispute.  IWJ is following the mandate of Isaiah 1:17:

“Learn to do good; seek justice, reprove the ruthless, defend the orphan, plead for the widow.”

   King continues,

But again, I am thankful to God that some noble souls from the ranks of organized religion have broken loose from the paralyzing chains of conformity and joined us as active partners in the struggle for freedom.  Their witness has been the spiritual salt that has preserved the true meaning of the gospel in these troubled times. They have carved a tunnel of hope through the dark mountain of disappointment.

Lastly, I contend that this Pastor, by criticizing our rhetoric, assumes that accountability is the absence of tension and if the latter ensues, that the former is no longer necessary. 

When workers are treated unfairly, there is usually a breakdown of accountability.  When housekeepers make minimum wage at a mere $8.25 an hour, a wage designed to keep them in poverty, when they work for billion-dollar hotel corporation, is this not an injustice?  Should not our rhetoric be the tone of righteous anger, met with truth telling of the brutal facts urging their oppressors to maneuver now to enact a living wage?  We cannot sit idly by while people sink deeper and deeper into the mire of poverty.  We cannot be afraid of a little rhetoric!  If I remember correctly, the Pharisees had a similar case against Christ.  His rhetoric/witness got him killed!

I stand on the shoulders of crucified prophets: Jesus Christ and Dr. King. Both took on human form yet contained divine residue. In their shadows, I carry courageously the torch of justice in hope [also, that] the church, as a whole will meet the challenge of this decisive hour.  Besides, if we let fear overtake us, who will be “the voices crying out in the wilderness” (Isaiah 40:3)? 

August 2012

Speaking Truth to Empower: Celebrating Sojourner Truth, Jill Scott and Me

This morning, I listened to Sojourner Truth’s, “Ain’t I A Woman?" and Jill Scott’s, “Womanifesto.”  I would classify both poems as Feminist (and possibly Womanist) literature.  Although both poems were written in two different time periods, in one way or another, Truth and Scott reference: physical strength/sexuality, intellect/politics and God/ and/or Christ.  I can appreciate the way each woman spoke from her particular vantage point.  

 

 *Painting by Barry Moser

In my twenty-four years of living, I have learned that we women possess an innate and kind of immense power.  I searched the annals of my many journals, and in the company of Sojourner Truth, Jill Scott and many other women writers… I share a glimpse of my power—with you. 

manifesto

there is a man

who rejoices

at the notion

that God

may be a woman

there is a man

who asks a woman

what she is thinking

before asking what

she is wearing

there is a man

who does not feel like

her sex owes

him something

there is a man

who is not made

the least bit

uncomfortable

by the length of her
locks nor the

ambit of her afro

there is a man

who knows that

her shape

does not

determine

her feminine

value

there is a man

who knows that b-i-t-c-h

never has been

and never will be

a synonym

for woman

December 2009