Hey folks! I’ve got a few big projects in the works right now (how vague and ambiguous…), so, to keep NonProphet Status fresh amidst my busyness, I’ve recruited a few worthy guest bloggers to populate it with content over the next few weeks. In the past, I’ve been honored to feature some pretty incredible guest posts from the likes of Tim Brauhn, Jessica Kelley, Nick Mattos, Sayira Khokar, Rory Fenton, Nate Mauger, Kate Fridkis, Andrew Fogle, Miranda Hovemeyer, Nat DeLuca, Mary Ellen Giess, Jeff Pollet, Joseph Varisco, Corinne Tobias, Vandana Goel LaClair, Nicholas Lang, and even my own Mom! We’ve also hosted original writing by Eboo Patel, August Brunsman, Hemant Mehta, Erik Roldan, and Emanuel Aguilar.
We’ve featured so many guest posters because NPS was never intended to be “Chris Stedman’s platform.” Rather, I wanted to create a forum for an alternative secular narrative. It’s why I initiated, organized and ran our first Share Your Secular Story contest. Featuring an amazing panel of judges that included the former head of Amnesty International USA and 2000 “Humanist of the Year” William Schulz, the contest inspired an influx of submissions from all across the United States and even across the globe, with entries from Ireland and Kenya and a story from one entrant’s childhood growing up in India.
In hosting the story contest and featuring so many guest bloggers, I’ve hoped to make NPS a place where a multitude of voices help define a new narrative for the secular community: one that respects the religious identities of others while remaining authentic to our own identities (be they secular, religious, or somewhere in-between).
I can’t wait to read along with you as this next diverse batch of guest bloggers continues to show us all a new way forward. I’m on the edge of my secular seat!
June 4th, 2010 | Posted by: Chris Stedman
Today’s guest post comes from Jessica Kelley, a member of the Secular Humanist Alliance of Chicago (SHAC). Kelley offers a reflection on our recent “Building Bridges: Muslim and Secular Communities for Free Speech” event (which was, amazingly, reported on from as far away as the New Delhi Chronicle). For additional thoughts on our event, check out member Joseph R. Varisco’s reflection.
I visited China in the summer of 2005, and I have never forgotten the generosity of the people I met during my travels there. When I sat down to write a letter to the Chinese Prime Minister on Wednesday evening, it was this generosity that became the subject of my letter, and it was to this generosity that I appealed on behalf of Shi Tao, a Chinese pro-democracy journalist currently imprisoned by the Chinese government for exercising his freedom of speech.
I hadn’t planned on writing a letter of understanding and friendship to China’s Prime Minister; I hadn’t planned on putting my own return address on the envelope; and I hadn’t planned on having a face or a name, or on recognizing that my letter’s recipient would have a face and name either.
Prior to sitting down to write, though, I was fortunate enough to dialogue with my fellow SHAC (Secular Humanist Alliance of Chicago) members and members of Chicago’s Muslim community. Our discussion revolved around Everybody Draw Muhammad Day (EDMD), an event organized by secular student groups on three Midwestern college campuses in reaction to death threats made by Muslim extremists against the writers of South Park after they portrayed the Prophet Muhammad in a recent episode of the show.
SHAC organized the letter-writing event with our Muslim sisters and brothers in order to exercise free speech in a way that we felt would be constructive and, I suppose in some ways, to differentiate our Secular Humanist organization from those that are responsible for EDMD. And those are worthy goals. But as I sat and listened Wednesday evening to the myriad perspectives around me — the hurt feelings, the indignation, the desire for peace, the compassion — what I realized was that something greater than those goals was happening organically, just because we were all there together, talking and listening. Minds were opening, and connections were being made. And it’s interesting, I think, that while we all went there that night in near complete agreement with one another, we all still had so much to teach and to learn.
So two nights ago I showed up as a member of this organization, ready to meet members of a certain community and to write letters to a certain government requesting that this person be released on matters of principal. I showed up all drenched in abstractions, you know? But then I met people with whole lives of experience behind their eyes. And I began to respect the folks around me — not for their roles in their various organizations, or for their esteemed careers or degrees, but for the human experience that each brought to the table.
And when it was time to say my piece to the Prime Minister, I wrote to him about Zhi He, the man who invited me into his home for rice wine and peanuts and sent me away with the fruit from his garden even though he was just barely able to feed his family. And I asked him how the hospitality and generosity that I was shown in China could be withheld from China’s own citizen, Shi Tao. And I asked if he’d ever looked into the eyes of Shi Tao and seen the experience behind them. Because I’m really starting to think that all these organizations that we think are so divisive really only exist to bring us together to argue and fight and maybe — finally — to see each other.
Jessica Kelley is a Master of Arts student at Chicago Theological Seminary, where she began her studies in gender and faith in 2007. She also works in residential development, is the Treasurer for SHAC, and sometimes even moonlights as a daughter, fiancée, and friend.