[I] see myself as very different from the establishment [Democratic presidential] candidates. Let's be serious here: Most of the candidates are just a different face of, essentially, the same-old, same-old; a better version of the same-old, same-old. But it is mainly candidates who are saying, 'We will lessen your pain.' But they're not addressing the underlying forces that are making all that pain inevitable.
If you don't name the problem, you're not really planning to solve the problem. We need to name it: This country is not being run by the will of the people; it's being run by the will of fossil fuel companies, health insurance companies, Big Pharma, chemical companies, gun manufacturers, defense contractors. And the American people see that [the political system] is rigged [in this way]; and that's what they knew in the last presidential election. So the desire for change was real. Unfortunately, what we got was someone who, instead of unrigging it, is actually rigging it further.
But that desire for change emanates from people knowing in their gut that this is not the way it's supposed to be. That is still here, and I and just two or three other [candidates] are saying that, and everyone else is saying the same-old, same-old. [They're] nice people, good people, but it's time for a much more fundamental disruption of the status quo than is being offered by merely establishment candidates.
Postscript: Recently, 2020 presidential candidate Marianne Williamson joined MSNBC's Stephanie Ruhle to discuss why she’s running for president and how she hopes to use love to fuel her political endeavors. . . .
[It is the] season of Passover and Easter and Earth Day.
We can celebrate this Holy Trinity together no matter what tradition we derive from: Mother Earth demanding we wake up to her peril (Earth Day); all of us as [embodiments] of God called to be liberators (the theme of Passover); and the Holy Spirit, the Spirit of creativity and imagination ready to make “all things new” (the theme of Easter).
Or as Emily Dickinson puts it: “Love is the fellow of the resurrection scooping up the dust and chanting 'Live'!”
[Pete] Buttigieg’s ability to articulate his sexual orientation through the lens of faith has captured public attention and drawn him into a theological spat with Vice President Mike Pence. The fact that the first openly gay major presidential candidate is also a Christian is indeed remarkable, a milestone in the visibility of L.G.B.T. people of faith. Yet it is also the result of a process that has been taking place in American religion for decades.
Pete Buttigieg is not the first openly gay Christian. Rather, he is the product of a slow-moving but steady trend among faith communities to acknowledge the inherent theological value of the spiritual experience of L.G.B.T. people. In the process, American religion is becoming less straight. Mr. Buttigieg’s popularity demonstrates the appetite for a mainstream narrative of religion beyond reflexive associations with social conservatism. But it also signals the budding of a queerer soul of this society.
My congressional representative Ilhan Omar (D-MN) was recently a guest on The Late Show with Stephen Colbert.
The interview was truncated for broadcast but the following video contains Omar's full interview with Colbert. It's followed by an article on Omar that was first published March 28, 2019 by Vogue.
_____________________
Ilhan Omar: “To Me, the Hijab Means Power,
Liberation, Beauty, and Resistance”
By Alexandria Gouveia Vogue Arabia
March 28, 2019
Twenty years after becoming a US citizen, Ilhan Omar made history in her adopted country. With her hand on her grandfather’s Qur’an, she was sworn into the US Congress, becoming the first hijabi member to do so. The scene was all the more poignant as it marked the lifting of a 181-year-old ban preventing anyone from wearing any kind of headwear in the chamber. Along with Rashida Tlaib (who doesn’t wear a hijab), she was also one of the first two Muslim women to enter Congress, and the first Somali-American.
How does she feel about the pressure on her shoulders? “That’s a loaded question,” she laughs. Her voice is soft but by no means meek. “It feels enormous to have the opportunities to carry those identities and to have people see themselves represented in such a way, but it also feels heavy because being the first doesn’t come with a rule book. Wanting to do right by it so that I’m not the last, is also lots of pressure.”
Omar’s mother died when she was two and she was raised by her father and grandfather. As extreme optimists, they taught Omar that “today does not determine your tomorrow.” It’s a life lesson she has repeatedly turned to during her most challenging days – from being a refugee to being a black, Muslim, hijabi woman in the US. Her family fled the Somali civil war in 1991, staying in a refugee camp in Kenya for four years, before resettling in the US. Here, she was confronted with the differences between her and her new home. “It was the first time that all of the identities I carried and had pride in, became a source of tension,” she recalls. “When you’re a kid and you’re raised in an all-black, all- Muslim environment, nobody really talks to you about your identity. You just are. There is freedom in knowing that you are accepted as your full self. So the notion that there is a conflict with your identity in society was hard at the age of 12.”
As the US representative for Minnesota’s 5th congressional district, one of Omar’s policies includes promoting and establishing a just immigration system; something that is at odds with the current political climate in the country. “It’s challenging,” she says of living in President Trump’s America, where her status and heritage is constantly criticized. “It’s an everyday assault. Every day, a part of your identity is threatened, demonized, and vilified. Trump is tapping into an ugly part of our society and freeing its ugliness. It’s been a challenge to try to figure out how to continue the inclusion; how to show up every day and make sure that people who identify with all the marginalized identities I carry, feel represented. It’s transitioning from the idea of constantly resisting to insisting in upholding the values we share – that this is a society that was built on the idea that you could start anew. And what that celebrates is immigrant heritage.”
Wearing her hijab allows her to be a “walking billboard” not only for her faith but also for representing something different from the norm. “To me, the hijab means power, liberation, beauty, and resistance,” she says. She has a son, Adnan, and two daughters with husband Ahmed Hirsi. Whether her girls, Ilwad and Isra, want to wear the hijab, is up to them, she says. “I grew up in a religious society and my father and grandfather believed that their role was to teach right from wrong. For me, that is how I raise my kids. I work to remove obstacles so they can live at their best and happiest selves,” she says. “If that translates to adapting the hijab, that’s fine. If they don’t, that’s also fine. They have freedom of choice. Society tends to place lots of limitations, depending on what gender you are. I want my kids to be free.” She wants to share this approach with all women, advising them to be themselves. “Walk in your own path. We are as much worthy of joy, power, and pleasure as the next human. We are deserving and we don’t need permission or an invitation to exist and to step into our power.”
Everywhere that you are
I can feel all around, feel your heart beat
Every heart has a sound
And the way that yours speaks
It echoes back to me
I know I’m in too deep
When your love washes over me
Don’t know where it may lead
But I’ll go where it’s taking me
So, slowly as we walk away
I will hold onto every word you say
Last week's spring snow storm notwithstanding, we're currently in that strange, in-between time here in Minnesota when the snow and ice of winter have mostly gone but the greening of spring is yet to emerge.
As I've noted previously at The Wild Reed, I'm drawn to in-between places, be they coastal rock platforms or interim times between the earth's seasons. I'm drawn to them because, for me, they serve as beautiful and powerful symbols of the liminal spaces of life and love, of those times and experiences of both loss and promise; times and experiences wherein we're often called to embody "active waiting," a paradoxical way of being which, as Henri Nouwen reminds us, is a "radical attitude toward life."
It's no wonder that the Christian church chose to remember and celebrate the death and resurrection of Jesus at such an in-between time of the year, a time when (in the northern hemisphere, at least) the natural world is experiencing both loss and promise. The stark beauty of the earth at this time reminds me of the deep and profound spiritual truths within which we all have our being; truths that continually invite us to embark on journeys of transformation towards wholeness. Indeed, I feel so strongly about this that it will be this single post that will serve as my Holy Week offering this year. In previous years, as you'll see at the end of this post, I've shared whole series of posts to mark Holy Week. I want to keep things simpler this year; more grounded in the beauty and wisdom of the earth.
Indeed, I feel that what I'm trying to say here is captured most truthfully in the images of nature that I share rather than in any words that I could pull together. Some of these images were taken April 2 at the Christos Center in Lino Lakes, MN. Others were taken the next day at one of my favorite spots on the Mississippi River in Minneapolis. Still others were taken earlier, on March 31, at Diamond Lake with my saaxiib qurux badan (Somali for "beautiful friend") Adnan. You might also recognize the Prayer Tree in one of these photographs!
Accompanying my photos is a "Blessing for the Interim Time" by John O'Donohue, another artistic expression, in this case a poem, which conveys truth more profoundly than the wordy expressions of, say, orthodoxy or academia.
For the Interim Time
When near the end of day, life has drained
Out of light, and it is too soon
For the mind of night to have darkened things,
No place looks like itself, loss of outline
Makes everything look strangely in-between,
Unsure of what has been, or what might come.
In this wan light, even trees seem groundless.
In a while it will be night, but nothing
Here seems to believe the relief of dark.
You are in this time of the interim
Where everything seems withheld.
The path you took to get here has washed out;
The way forward is still concealed from you.
“The old is not old enough to have died away;
The new is still too young to be born.”
You cannot lay claim to anything;
In this place of dusk,
Your eyes are blurred;
And there is no mirror.
Everything else has lost sight of your heart
And you can see nowhere to put your trust;
You know you have to make your own way through.
As far as you can, hold your confidence.
Do not allow your confusion to squander
This call which is loosening
Your roots in false ground,
That you might come free
From all you have outgrown.
What is being transfigured here is your mind,
And it is difficult and slow to become new.
The more faithfully you can endure here,
The more refined your heart will become
For your arrival in the new dawn.
This country was founded on the ideas of justice, of liberty, of the pursuit of happiness. But these core beliefs are under threat – each and every day.
We are under threat by an administration that would rather cage children than pass comprehensive immigration reform. An administration that would rather give billionaires tax breaks than provide a little cushion for working people. An administration that ran on banning Muslims from this country and would rather attack fellow Americans who are transgender and wear our country’s uniform than fight for equality and opportunity for all.
I did not run for Congress to be silent. I did not run for Congress to sit on the sidelines. I ran because I believed it was time to restore moral clarity and courage to Congress. To fight and to defend our democracy. No one person – no matter how corrupt, inept, or vicious – can threaten my unwavering love for America. I stand undeterred to continue fighting for equal opportunity in our pursuit of happiness for all Americans.
Thank you for standing with me, let’s fight for the America we all deserve.
“Music night” this evening at The Wild Reed spotlights Vaudou Game, a French afro-funk band which since the release of their debut album Apiafo in 2014, have performed throughout Europe, Africa, America, and Asia.
Vaudou Game's official website notes that the band's singer/composer Peter Solo channels through his music “the ecstatic voodoo rituals and melodies of his upbringing with funky guitars, keyboards, bass, rhythms and brass.” Solo also frequently “performs in a ceremonial mask, invokes gris-gris (lucky charms) to ward off sonic demons in the studio, and infuses his concerts with ecstatic rituals.” FunkDub.com, provides the following backstory of the band's charismatic singer.
Born in Aného-Glidji, the birthplace of the Guin tribe and a major site of the Voodoo culture, Peter Solo was raised with this tradition’s values of respect for all forms of life and the environment. At an early age, he made a makeshift guitar, and his music propelled him into the spotlight, his undeniable talent earning the respect of renowned African artists. Mastering traditional percussion instruments, his desire to discover the world and to carry his practice forward led him to England, where he became immersed in gospel music and then eventually to France where he calls home today.
Since the release of their 2014 debut album Apiafo, Vaudou Game have gone from strength to strength, receiving critical acclaim from the UK press for their 2016 release Kidayu.
I must admit that I was first drawn to Vaudou Game when I saw a number of the band's album covers featuring lead singer Peter Solo in the ceremonial antelope mask that he often wears for photo shoots. (I find it hard to believe he actually sings in it!) Given my interest in the Celtic horned (or antlered) god Cernunnos, this attraction isn't that surprising.
Vaudou Game's most recent album, 2018's Odoti, was recorded in Lomé, Togo. It's an album, writes Ian Forsythe of DustedMagazine.com, of "bare, grinding funk intertwined with traditional Voodoo trance elements." Blues and Soul magazine describes Odoti as “pulsating and mesmeric and full of rhythmic feel.”
Radio Milwaukkee DJ Marcus Doucette puts Odoti at first place in his “Top Ten Albums of 2018,” noting that “This dope outfit chopping up old African voodoo rhythms for a far more modern game has Togolese roots and a funk as fresh as their name. I expected Otodi to be a good album but it’s really so good that I couldn’t keep it off this list. It’s a modern masterpiece of African funk and dance music par excellence.”
About the recording of Odoti, the website FunkDubnotes the following.
Recorded using vintage instruments and material from the 70’s, the “grigris” (or lucky charms) proved to be the most effective way to ward off digital corruption of their music and return them to a tight-knit group. This invincible trance rhythm, inherited from James Brown and Fela, icons of Funk and Afrobeat, becomes trident when joined by Mawu, the creative voodoo divinity hidden in each of the group’s notes. This inspiration transcends their spirit of communion, plunges them deeply into Mother Earth and results in the telepathic trance which is directly connected to Solo’s native Togo.
Below is the colorful, Rubik's Cube-inspired music video for “Tata Fatiguée,” one of the many standout tracks on Otodi. It's followed by an excerpt from an insightful piece by David Hutchear which delves further into the vodum (or voodoo) spirituality of Peter Solo and the music of Vaudou Game. Hutchear's piece was first published in 2017 in the British music magazine Mojo.
“Vodun without music is not vodun, brother,” laughs Peter Solo, leader of the Lyon-based octet Vaudou Game. “If you know Togo, we don’t have any kind of harmonic instrument like balafon or kora; the only things we have are percussion, vocals and bells. It’s about the rhythm. No arrangements. You let people get into the groove to find themselves, get into a trance and get to the next level.”
. . . [T]he first thing anybody ever asks Solo about his backstory – his mother was not only a successful businesswoman, she was also a vodunsi, or to put it in Hollywood terms, a priestess of voodoo (known as “vodun” in West Africa), and Solo’s music is rooted in those traditions. . . . “Vodun is not something negative . . .” [says Solo]. “That’s a film version. No vodun is a culture, a way of living and an art. . . . My mother taught me to respect nature, be in harmony with nature, talk to nature. That’s vodun. I was born in this culture and I believe in it and practice it, and Vaudou Game was born to talk about vodun.”
A backing musician in Togo, where he played guitar for visiting stars, Solo wound up in London with new music to grasp: reggae, Nigerian juju, gospel and salsa.
“I played all those musics but I never did my own thing. I wasn’t ready, and those guys were very bad good, you know? I had to go to school.”
It was the attitude to his religion, though, that pushed him towards making his own music.
“I couldn’t talk about it openly. People would say, ‘This is sorcery, evil, evil, you will die if you speak about vodun.’”
Things changed when he started mixing James Brown with veterans and fellow believers El Rego and Roger Damawuzan (Solo’s uncle) and Orchestre Poly Rythmo De Cotonou. Finding the same energy in funk and vodun, he realised that to stay true to his culture meant going right back to nature: digital music was forbidden.
“We had a 15-track Magnetophon. I fought with my band for the first time. I said no digital, no computer, no anything. We rehearsed, rehearsed, rehearsed. Recording was one shot. If people love it they love it. If they don’t we know that we did something naturally/ One shot. Bang, bang, bang. Pure sound. Natural sound. Vodun sound.”
I established The Wild Reed in 2006 as a sign of solidarity with all who are dedicated to living lives of integrity – though, in particular, with gay people seeking to be true to both the gift of their sexuality and their Catholic faith. The Wild Reed's original by-line read, “Thoughts and reflections from a progressive, gay, Catholic perspective.” As you can see, it reads differently now. This is because my journey has, in many ways, taken me beyond, or perhaps better still, deeper into the realities that the words “progressive,” “gay,” and “Catholic” seek to describe.
Even though reeds can symbolize frailty, they may also represent the strength found in flexibility. Popular wisdom says that the green reed which bends in the wind is stronger than the mighty oak which breaks in a storm. Tall green reeds are associated with water, fertility, abundance, wealth, and rebirth. The sound of a reed pipe is often considered the voice of a soul pining for God or a lost love.
On September 24, 2012,Michael BaylyofCatholics for Marriage Equality MNwas interviewed by Suzanne Linton of Our World Today about same-sex relationships and why Catholics can vote 'no' on the proposed Minnesota anti-marriage equality amendment.
"I believe your blog to be of utmost importance for all people regardless of their orientation. . . . Thank you for your blog and the care and dedication that you give in bringing the TRUTH to everyone."– William
"Michael, if there is ever a moment in your day or in your life when you feel low and despondent and wonder whether what you are doing is anything worthwhile, think of this: thanks to your writing on the internet, a young man miles away is now willing to embrace life completely and use his talents and passions unashamedly to celebrate God and his creation. Any success I face in the future and any lives I touch would have been made possible thanks to you and your honesty and wisdom."– AB
"Since I discovered your blog I have felt so much more encouraged and inspired knowing that I'm not the only gay guy in the Catholic Church trying to balance my Faith and my sexuality. Continue being a beacon of hope and a guide to the future within our Church!"– Phillip
"Your posts about Catholic issues are always informative and well researched, and I especially appreciate your photography and the personal posts about your own experience. I'm very glad I found your blog and that I've had the chance to get to know you."– Crystal
"Thank you for taking the time to create this fantastic blog. It is so inspiring!"– George
"I cannot claim to be an expert on Catholic blogs, but from what I've seen, The Wild Reed ranks among the very best."– Kevin
"Reading your blog leaves me with the consolation of knowing that the words Catholic, gay and progressive are not mutually exclusive.."– Patrick
"I grieve for the Roman institution’s betrayal of God’s invitation to change. I fear that somewhere in the midst of this denial is a great sin that rests on the shoulders of those who lead and those who passively follow. But knowing that there are voices, voices of the prophets out there gives me hope. Please keep up the good work."– Peter
"I ran across your blog the other day looking for something else. I stopped to look at it and then bookmarked it because you have written some excellent articles that I want to read. I find your writing to be insightful and interesting and I'm looking forward to reading more of it. Keep up the good work. We really, really need sane people with a voice these days."– Jane Gael
"Michael, your site is like water in the desert."– Jayden
