Hyphenated -Americans

I was just reading the blog of a friend and former pastor of mine. He is in the thick of the argument about gay marriage. Check his blog out here. In the ensuing comments on Facebook about his blog he uses the term “hyphenated- Americans,” a term I had never heard in that way before. His point, I believe, was that rather than only being a label these names are part of a person’s identity. I understand what he is saying, but I think that to call yourself something such as an African-American or Gay- American is sharing the identity you want to share with the world. For others to constantly refer to someone with this “label” is not necessarily helpful. It is often used as a way to separate ourselves from others.

I am Hispanic. Not everyone knows that and growing up almost no one knew. My mother was scared to live in the South when we moved here because although her skin is very white her accent is very thick. My father would not let her raise us speaking Spanish because he was afraid in 1960 Birmingham it would cause trouble when we began school. I wish I had been raised bilingual of course and the idea of speaking Spanish being a detriment made me think BEING Spanish was a detriment. I kept the fact that I was Hispanic quiet growing up and since my mother could not drive, very few people in my school ever saw her. I am ashamed to say I was OK with that. I did not choose to be a hyphenated American at that time. (Of course back then you weren’t a “hyphenated- American”- you were called much worse things if you were different.) All of that is to say that although I have come to terms with my heritage, what I was labeled was my choice on my terms when I was ready. I realize I could make that choice since my “difference” wasn’t obvious to anyone else.

In my book study which concluded last week, we discussed homosexuality. I left feeling very unsatisfied. Everyone was very open to accepting all people with open arms. After all we are Christians! But they also seemed to be OK with putting restrictions on these “others”. Keeping them from being clergy or marrying in our church seemed OK with this group. Maybe I misunderstood, maybe the short length of the class left many things unsaid. But the visiting minister that week, who had just said Jesus put people above rules, later declared the bishop correct in upholding the rules and not allowing a gay wedding in a United Methodist church. (The couple was already legally wed elsewhere.) I seemed the only one to raise my head at the hypocrisy of the two statements.So what is it? People or rules??

I told a friend of mine in class that people always seemed to want someone to label. We always seem to want someone to put down. Women struggled to get the vote, black people had to fight for their civil rights, gay people are now the trendy target it seems. I jokingly said that white, straight men really seemed to need to have someone to feel “better than.” That was unfair for me to say, even as a joke. The minister who wrote the blog above is a white, straight man as are my husband and son. Lumping everyone together and making generalizations is a big part of our problem. All gays are… All black people are… It is never true and never right to say those things about an entire group.

In fact, during that chat with my friend she made mention of one of the guys in my son’s (and her son’s) close circle of friends. I was not sure why when we were talking about homosexuality she mentioned this guy. She continued talking and I realized she was saying this young man was gay- something I never knew. I wondered why Jon had never mentioned that fact. But then I knew why he hadn’t. When Jon was attending the University of Alabama he was on the staff of the Crimson White, the school newspaper. He often spoke highly of his editor. After nearly two years of this I saw a picture of his editor who turned out to be African-American. I was surprised and asked Jon why he had never mentioned it. Jon told me that it did not matter in the context of our conversations. And he was right- it didn’t. Nor did it matter whether his friend was gay or not. It was an unnecessary label for our conversations.

I had a conversation with a friend from school a couple of weeks ago and for his McNair Scholar project he wants to write a play that explores the difference between being a “black man” and a “man that is black.” Our conversation was interrupted by the start of the play we were there to see, but I told him I really wanted to continue our conversation. I have pondered his words often since then. I saw a quote recently that I wrote on the dry erase board by my desk. “To define is to limit.” Do we limit what we think about someone when we label them? Do they limit themselves when they are labeled? Why do we find it so necessary to label people? If you want to label yourself as part of your identity, should you be careful how you use that label? (As a young person I think I would have limited myself more than I already did if I had been forced to actually use the label “Hispanic- American” before I had come to terms with it, especially since my own family seemed at odds with it!) And when will we ever realize how it sounds to proclaim to be a Christian who loves everyone as ourselves, yet puts up rules to disenfranchise the people we claim to love. True love means treating others as we wish to be treated, equally and fairly. I struggle with staying in a church with some leaders that can not see that. But do you try to make change from the inside or do you leave and find others who believe as you do?

I later met with a third minister who told me the church was changing, but it could take 20-30 years. I am not so sure I am OK with that answer. But I am also not one to run from a fight if it is about something that matters. I will keep praying and thinking and talking.

 

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Marietta is a graduate of the University of Montevallo with a BFA in musical theater. She has been performing for over 50 years on the stage and continues to perform, direct and teach. Marietta is married to Tim, has a son named Jon, and a cat named Penny.