"There’s essay upon essay to write about the genderless garments of the clergy, and what that says about proximity to the divine: Do we need to give up our sexuality or gender identity in order to access God?"
Chills, this is SO good! What an awesome observation. I am very excited to read your book.
Yesterday, two eighth graders approached me to share their two voices-poem. As I listened to their pressures around dress, identity and expectations I thought about divinity and feelings about self. When do we (if ever) allow ourselves to be Divine. The concept of fashion (lower case f) and the link to identity always struck me as remarkable and I thoroughly enjoy reading your words to provoke, teach and push me in directions that help Middle School students. Thank you.
Philip, I’ve never been to the Met gala. It’s never been a goal of mine or a dream of mine. But when I read your post, I realized that there was something in there that WAS mine.
It wasn’t that I felt Catholicism didn’t want me. It was that I felt that that God, whoever he was, didn’t want me. But then, if he didn’t want me, he probably hadn’t made me. But then, who had?
The priest, at the church near my house, had told me that God had a throne waiting for me in Heaven. I had gotten so excited as a young boy about that idea—but certainly, if he had a throne for me, he did want me. Didn’t he?
That confusion, and that chaos, accompanied most of my childhood. I would pray to the Virgin Mary and tell her that if she interceded for me, I’d sacrifice whatever she needed. I’d go to church every day. I’d pray as many Hail Marys as were needed.
There had just been a mix up somewhere.
Thank goodness that mixup has been sorted—I sent the right paperwork in and I’ve gotten notice that in 60 to 90 days I should have my visa—but I think of the many boys and girls who are still caught up in that mix up. Who can’t see their demons in the face because they don’t know it’s a possibility. Who think that there is no way to be light. And then I think: let’s have a gala for that.
"There’s essay upon essay to write about the genderless garments of the clergy, and what that says about proximity to the divine: Do we need to give up our sexuality or gender identity in order to access God?"
Chills, this is SO good! What an awesome observation. I am very excited to read your book.
Yesterday, two eighth graders approached me to share their two voices-poem. As I listened to their pressures around dress, identity and expectations I thought about divinity and feelings about self. When do we (if ever) allow ourselves to be Divine. The concept of fashion (lower case f) and the link to identity always struck me as remarkable and I thoroughly enjoy reading your words to provoke, teach and push me in directions that help Middle School students. Thank you.
From the students:
Then what is me?
If I can’t even choose a plain tee,
how do I represent my individualiTY
how do I make them see the real me
instead of the disguised girl
that’s just standing there
Ghosts are lucky, in that
they don't ever have to choose
what to wear.
Philip, I’ve never been to the Met gala. It’s never been a goal of mine or a dream of mine. But when I read your post, I realized that there was something in there that WAS mine.
It wasn’t that I felt Catholicism didn’t want me. It was that I felt that that God, whoever he was, didn’t want me. But then, if he didn’t want me, he probably hadn’t made me. But then, who had?
The priest, at the church near my house, had told me that God had a throne waiting for me in Heaven. I had gotten so excited as a young boy about that idea—but certainly, if he had a throne for me, he did want me. Didn’t he?
That confusion, and that chaos, accompanied most of my childhood. I would pray to the Virgin Mary and tell her that if she interceded for me, I’d sacrifice whatever she needed. I’d go to church every day. I’d pray as many Hail Marys as were needed.
There had just been a mix up somewhere.
Thank goodness that mixup has been sorted—I sent the right paperwork in and I’ve gotten notice that in 60 to 90 days I should have my visa—but I think of the many boys and girls who are still caught up in that mix up. Who can’t see their demons in the face because they don’t know it’s a possibility. Who think that there is no way to be light. And then I think: let’s have a gala for that.
Thank you for writing!