Summer Readz: What I'm Into

Well kids,

As my period of fun-employment continues, let me tell you, I pretty much spend a majority of my time reading, and crafting (with occasional marathons of watching mind-numbing useless television).

I have a fairly hefty reading list (I just bought two books today--thank goodness for gift cards.  You have to careful when you have no income, and it turns out the public library is sub-par.  I miss the Noah Webster Library in Connecticut!), as well as some recommendations, just in case you need one!

Summer Reading List:
1. Overdressed: The Shockingly High Cost of Cheap Fashion: Elizabeth L. Cline.  As the title implies,  a look into the cheap fashion industry (i.e. Forever 21, H&M, Target, etc) and the impact it has
2. The End of Food: Paul Roberts  (Echoing food experts such as Michael Pollan, Roberts explores the food industry and its impact on the planet and our bodies, and where we're headed)
3.  Marriage: A History: Stephanie Coontz (WARNING: I anticipate that this book dispels any preconceived notions that you have about marriage--I read the sample.  Sociology always manage to rip anything you believe to shreds...its the nature of the beast)
4.  The Year of Biblical Womanhood: Rachel Held Evans (to be released Oct. 30).  (I loved Held Evans book "Evolving in Monkey Town" about her journey through faith, and hers is a blog that I follow regularly.  She always provides insight, and spends the year following the "letter of law" as the Bible outlines for women--such as covering her head, submitting to her husband on all matters, wearing her hair long, etc.  Her question is "What does it mean to be a 'biblical' woman?"  I'm a sucker for year-long experiment books!
5.  Torn: Rescuing the Gospel from the Gays vs. Christians Debate:Justin Lee  (to be released Nov. 13)  (Rachel Held Evans recommended this book on her blog, and from the title it sounds like a fascinating and extremely necessary conversation to have).
6.  Plastic: A Toxic Love Story: Susan Frienkel  (Frienkel follows the history of different household products such as a comb, grocery bag, plastic bottle, etc. and discusses their various impacts)

Woo!  I can't wait to read these!

Books I've Read and Love...(as an aside, I tend to stay away from fiction as a personal preference...so you'll have to check out someone else's list for fiction suggestions.  I've heard Harry Potter is cool...)

Memoirs/Books Written By People Who Inspire Me In One Way Or Another:

1. Bossypants: Tina Fey (She needs no introduction.  I love her.  I want to be like her.)
2. Blue Like Jazz: Donald Miller (I read this book 8 years ago and its still one of my favorites and deeply influenced the way I see my faith.  It was one of the books that taught me that things are not very black and white, and I began to see that I could be liberal and a Christian too.  I guess you could say it had a heavy influence in helping me to get the proverbial stick out of my ass for lack of a better term when it came to understanding that faith does not equal legalism.  I like to read this one in small bits every now and again)
3. Anything by David Sedaris: This guy is a freaking hoot.  And he's funny in person too.  A guy I hope I can write like some day
4.  Traveling Mercies: Anne Lamott: Similar to Blue Like Jazz, when I read this book years and years and years ago it taught me that there's more than one way live out faith, and you can not have your life together (i.e. hot mess) yet still find beauty in the fact that you have no clue what you're doing.  I would say that Donald Miller and Anne Lamott laid the foundation for helping me to think about how justice and faith go together, and how things are not black and white.  These books prepared the way for me to understand things later on when I went through a very transitional faith period (read: crisis) my senior year of college.

Justice/Sociology Books:

1. The Working Poor: David K. Shipler  A look at the myths that dictate the ways in which we think about the poor, and the ways in which those ideas shape the way that we form our policies and politics
2. White Like Me: Tim Wise  Examining the reality of White Privilege
3. The Second Shift: Arlie Hochschild  Through her research, Hochschild examines disparities between working men and working women's contributions to household labor
4. The Tipping Point: Malcolm Gladwell  I guess you could qualify this more as a "social psychology" book, but this is a fascinating read on what it is that makes certain phenomenon catch on (actually, anything Malcolm Gladwell writes is extremely interesting).
5. Full Frontal Feminism: Jessica Valenti  (Just a warning, this book contains some graphic language/imagery, but in my opinion totally worth it).  Valenti explores the question "Why do we need feminism" and the different social structures that still reveal inequalities for women--really easy, funny read.
6. I Am America (And So Can You): Stephen Colbert: I'm not really sure if this REALLY fits in this category to be honest, but Colbert covers a lot of different facets of American culture and through political conservative satire points out the lunacies of it all.  SO FREAKING HILARIOUS.  I literally was laughing out loud to the confusion of people at the airport.

Books that Changed the Way I thought About The Environment and The Food Industry:

1. The Ominvore's Dilemma: Michael Pollen  Probably one of the most important texts as related to the food industry, Pollen examines the current state of the industry and explores such issues as the attack on biodiversity, carbon footprint in terms of food transportation, eating locally, etc, and how these all impact our health and the environment.
2. Eating Animals: Jonathan Safran Foer  A look into the ethics behind eating meat and the food industry
3. Food Rules: Michael Pollan  This really tiny, easy-to-read, super accessible little number is one of the foundations for my understanding of how our diets should look
4. No Impact Man: Colin Beavin  About a NYC guy's attempt at living off the grid for one year




Well, that's a start I guess!  Happy reading!

I'm Baaaacccckkk

Hi friends!

I recognize that I've been absent (you know, moving across the country and all).  So here I sit, in Salem, Oregon, back as a [hopefully] permanent citizen of the Pacific Northwest and ready for action!  Of course, the name of my blog will need to be changed soon (cuz I ain't on the East Coast no' mo')...that's still TBD (if you have any suggestions, feel free to share them!).  I anticipate that this phase of the blog shall have more of an emphasis on simple living, and "being green"(please don't label me "granola" and hear me out!), and discovering what the heck it is I'm supposed to be doing with my life and whatever other fun little gems pop into my head.  Expect that I will share with you my adventures in fun-employment (definition: the "funemployed" person has no job and finds the utmost pleasure and merriment in being work free.  The fun-employed fills his/her afternoons with whatever he/she desires, and may silently or verbally delight in the fact that he/she may galavant about as he/she pleases while others are stuck at work.  "Fun-employment" transitions into official "Un-employment" status when the participant's funding runs out and he/she, or the participant becomes extremely board with his/her life after a certain period of time after acquiring employment is attempted repeatedly.  "Fun-employment" is a temporary state).  I recognize the privilege in fun-employment (others do not always get this luxury), and I anticipate enjoying this time to the fullest, and figuring out what my next steps are going to be.  Anyways, my goal is to post once a day, so stay tuned...!!!

Where I'm Going

Well kids, it's official. I'm moving. Yup, back to the Pacific Northwest I go. I've been thinking about it for a long time, and after the end of the school year I will be packing my (hopefully very minimal) belongings and heading to Salem, OR. My parents moved there recently, and my brother and one of my best friends live in Portland, and I've always wanted to live in a land where they have bumper stickers that say "Keep Portland Weird." Weird it is (Remember, the dream of the 90s is alive in Portland...), but I look forward to the endless variety of food trucks, feminist bookstores, independent coffee shops (oh! the coffee!), bike riders, community gardens, and a wide variety of mustaches/facial hair.

If you want to know the truth, my move is not very logical. I'm not going back for a job. I'm not going to have health insurance. I don't know where I'm going, only God knows where I've been. I'm a devil on the run, a six gun lover, a gamble in the wind (OK OK, THE LAST TWO SENTENCES ARE A BON JOVI SONG! YOU CAUGHT ME.). I am leaving behind a special community, a fun and flexible job, and pretty much starting over. But it just feels right, and at the end of the day I am a West Coast woman (as my blog title implies), and at the end of the day I want to be near my family. I've had SO many wonderful experiences on the "right"/east coast, met so many fantastic people who have eternally shaped who I am, learned so many lessons, but at the end of the day home is where the heart is. When you're in a new culture (though does 3 years count as "new" still?), as I was explaining the other day, I imagine I could liken my experience to that of wearing a high heeled shoe--it fits, it works, and I can wear it (and rock it!), but at the end of the day it's not quite as comfortable as your house slippers.

Every few years it seems like I get restless, like I need to mix it up a bit, maybe to remember what it is like to feel alive, what it feels like to completely step out on the edge of the cliff. While I don't know what it is I want my life TO look like, I feel like I'm figuring out what I DON'T want, and I think that's just as important. I've been reading a lot of people who have written about looking back at their lives in their 40s and 50s, only to realize that they've been on a proverbial hamster's wheel, running in circles, trying to make a lot of money to buy a lot of useless stuff, and figuring out that it's all not worth very much at all, and that they somehow missed life in the midst of it. I do not want this to be me. I realize I have the luxury of having this sort of aspiration that others might not due to social class or familial obligations, but its something I'm interested in exploring.

If you want to know the truth, the prospect of moving AGAIN (move #5) is completely terrifying, especially when you're not going back to a concrete job or school. And, with the exception of moving to Connecticut, I've always had a built-in community (i.e. a school of some sort) and built-in network of friendly neighbors to socialize and involve myself with when I've arrived. But Oregon will be different, and I imagine my comfort zone will become increasingly more stretched. But as I said, you have to keep moving forward, into the unknown, and I imagine these are the times when God becomes increasingly more apparent, and faith becomes more and more necessary. It is challenging and terrifying and exciting all at the same time. The world is my oyster.

It will work out, I am confident of that, it's just a matter of "how" and "when."

Also, I am currently taking suggestions of career aspirations. Environmental Sociologist is already on the list. Also, biking educator or activist. Maybe working at Voodoo Donuts to contribute to Portland's weirdness factor. Thoughts?

Book Review: Evolving in Monkey Town

If I were to write a memoir, I imagine it would be very similar to this one.

Rachel Held Evans is one of my new favorite writers/bloggers (Check out her blog here!). I'm not sure, but it seems we might get along very well.

Held Evans' memoir is about her journey through faith, and as I mentioned, is remarkably paralleled with mine. She was well versed in apologetics throughout high school, could argue why her faith was so logical, went to a Christian college where it seems you would leave with a whole lot more answers than questions...but that was not necessarily the case. Eventually, she began to ask a lot of questions (as the title implies), and through confusion and ambiguity, her faith evolved into something completely different then where she had started from.

If you want to know the truth, I was waiting for a book like this. Because there's a certain part of me that wonders if there is any place for me in the evangelical church anymore. My ideas are often very different from those that I meet with, and it seems that there is no room for questions. I'm talking about the hard questions--what we think about creationism, the current political climate, abortion, poverty, etc. For a lot of people, these might be cut and dry issues. But I have found that the more information I get, the more perspectives I listen to, the more I realize that my very narrow experience is different from a large part of the world. And this shakes you. And if I've noticed anything, it is that when you disagree with general Christian culture, you are labeled a heretic. People smile nicely and nod, but wonder if you have a few screws loose. I know how to "blend in" well enough--that is, I know the jargon, I know what I "should" say. I know the line of reasoning, and I know what the response will be if I were to tell people what I REALLY think. I know how to play the game. And I imagine that is the scariest part--because where does "playing the part" end, and authenticity begin--where differences of opinion are celebrated and embraced and not feared? And why is difference so threatening?

My senior year of college I was beginning to learn about the social construction of gender and this whole idea of biblical equality. I was having a debate with a young man who believed very strongly in complimentary gender roles (the idea that men and women each hold a set of opposite traits that "compliment" each other). I had adhered to this idea for a long time, went to a church that strongly supported it, but when presented with the egalitarian viewpoint, the arguments for complimentary roles seemed, well like a bunch of hooey. During the discussion I raised a lot of my concerns with the complimentary viewpoint, but the end result of the conversation was "Crazy feminist-you're-only-mad-because-you're-a-woman and you're-not-really-a-Christian" sort of a feeling. UGH. I might not have taken it that way if this was an isolated incident, but it turned out a LOT of people I talked to had the same sort of mentality. I went and talked with my professor about it because I was so frustrated with the situation. It wasn't necessarily that he disagreed with me, but more so that he couldn't even fathom the possibility that things might be outside of what he thought. She told me that for some people, they are too afraid to ask questions. Because the possibility that they might have to let go, that they might have to give up everything they know, is too much. Their faith is brittle. Can you even call that faith if you can explain it?

But God is bigger than that.

My professor gave me permission to ask questions. And I did. I asked a LOT of them. And as a result, my faith changed in dramatic ways. And if you want to know the truth, Jesus' face became a lot clearer, but everything in the peripherals--the letters where Paul talks about women's roles, the origins of the human race, what God thought about homosexuality--they became a lot more fuzzy.

Shortly after, one of my other professors came in for a guest lecture in my Sociology of Gender class. He is a Mennonite. He spoke about how the Mennonites believe in a Christocentric theology. That is, Jesus and the Gospels are the center, and all truth and understanding is measured in light of that. They believed in doing what Jesus did. Evangelicals (while they might claim to be Christocentric) tend to be more Paul-centric. That is, so much of our rules and moral code is based off of verses out of Paul's letters (case in point: supportive verses for sex before marriage, women's role in ministry, homosexuality, swearing, etc. can be found). A student raised her hand and asked him what he believed about homosexuality. Was it right? Was it wrong? And he pointed back to the fact that the Mennonites believed that Jesus was the center, and that it was our job on earth to do what Jesus did. And Jesus never comments on it. He spoke in crowds to thousands of people, had ample amount of time to talk about it, or if he did it was never recorded. It all went back to Jesus--and He is the only place I found comfort when it felt like all my questions were going to make my faith-world unravel.

We spend very little time talking about giving up our possessions, feeding the poor, or leaving our families for the sake of Jesus--things Jesus actually spent a lot of time talking about. In fact, we spend a lot of time talking about the "wiggle room" for how to avoid these sorts of subjects--trying to explain them away, or ignore them completely. I imagine that is because it is a lot easier to sit around and condemn everyone else than get up and do something. I am guilty of this as much as anyone.

I understand that people could read the above paragraphs and write me off as full of blasphemy or hypocrisy or whatever code words you want to use for "not really a Christian." Do you not believe that the Bible is the inerrant word of God you might ask? But that's the very point of Rachel Held Evans' book. Our faith must be able to ebb, flow, evolve. Once she began to ask questions, she found that she had a lot more. But the thing I have found is that the more questions I ask, and the more vague and uncertain the answers, it gets a lot less scary to live in ambiguity. In fact, it is so much more exciting. Because it you ask a question that might not have an answer in this lifetime, your faith is not shattered--it is flexible and fluid enough to sustain the impact of questioning. I nearly lost my faith, because frankly, God was in a very boring, explainable box. I find that through admitting I don't know, it takes a lot less work to try to separate myself from "those" people who believe THAT particular dogma (*gasp!*). Difference in opinion is less scary, and becomes more about what I can learn from someone then the "absolute truth" I have to defend at all costs (because we feel like we are at war). If God wants us to find it, we will. But sometimes I think God is a lot more interested in the process and struggle and journey we go through to find answers then the actual answers themselves.

I imagine that ambiguity is scary. But it can also be exciting, because it can be refreshing to know that you don't have to figure it all out. Thank you, Rachel for being honest about your questions, for being okay with the unknown, and ready to embrace what is to come.

"Doubt is a difficult animal to master because it requires that we learn the difference between doubting God and doubting what we believe about God. The former has the potential to destroy faith; the latter has the power to enrich and refine it. The former is a vice; the latter a virtue." (pg. 219)

Goodbye, Gramps

My grandpa left us last night.

The day before he died, I had a dream. In the dream, I was in a competition of some sort. I was supposed to do something really original to show to the crowd or something like that, and I felt really stressed out because I couldn’t think of anything. While I was trying to think of what I was going to do, I remember feeling really down on myself, like I wasn't good enough. Suddently, someone said, “Jess, your grandpa is here!” I turned around, and there he was. He took my hand, and led me out of the room I was in. We walked outside, and sat down to talk. I woke up knowing that he had come to say goodbye to me, and to tell me that he was proud of me and that he loved me just the way I was. After I woke up, I wanted to keep talking to him, but in seeing him, it was if he was telling me that he would be around to talk whenever I needed to.

I imagine an accurate way to describe my grandfather would be a “surly curmudgeon with a heart of gold.” He was in many ways a paradox, a unique blend of cantankerous stubbornness and warm fuzzies. And we loved him greatly for that. He didn’t give a flying HELL what came out of his mouth or who heard what. He was hilariously inappropriate, crass, and outspoken. He also played Santa Claus at the mall, and brought joy to little kids with his creative stories about the North Pole. He was deeply spiritual, an elder at church. He had a poster in his bathroom with a guy with his pants pulled half way down that said, “Say no to crack.” He had a huge soft spot for his dog K.D. He loved radishes, peanut butter on hamburgers (don’t knock it til you try it), and peanut butter sandwiches dipped in milk. He always had a baseball hat on, and his La-Z-Boy was off limits (though occasionally he let me sit there). He smoked cigarettes despite every person he knew telling him to knock it off. He was quite the craftsman and loved his tools. He loved Big Band music, and sometimes would spontaneously burst into song (he was a deep rich baritone). He said things like, “Fiction or fact from Joe’s Almanac.” He loved lighthouses, and I had always wanted him to come to Seattle, but I imagine he is sitting by the shore looking out across the sea with God right now. While he presented a tough exterior, the man had the insides of a gooey marshmallow. And he always made sure to say, “Well, we’re proud of you kid.” He was who he was, no matter what. And I loved all of these things about him, the complexity of his character and his ability to just be…Grandpa.

I wasn’t there, but from what I was told, when he died, the moment was surrounded by peace and calmness. He was not alone. He told my uncle that he saw the hand of God.

My mom thinks that he knew when he was supposed to go. My brother, mom and I had a chance to talk to him on his last day, to let him know that we loved him, a gift I can’t believe I was so lucky to receive. I was told he cried, because even though he couldn’t talk to us, he knew what we were saying to him.

I always thought about death in a dark and ugly and scary way, but that’s not how it happened. And I’ve always been afraid of death in many ways. But it turns out, that through a tragic, sad, and painful experience, God showed up. Through all the doubts I might have about faith, too much has happened that leads me to believe that there is something bigger than ourselves. God has taken a moment that we look at as horribly painful, but somehow has brought goodness and beauty out of it: the release of someone from pain, the welcoming home for a child of God, bringing a family together, revealing God's self and peace and reassurance to people who desperately need to see it.

Death is frightening because it is the great unknown. No one can come back to tell you about what the experience is like. Someone I knew told me that death is much like our experience in our mother’s womb: when we are in there, we don’t want to leave. It is warm, safe, and it is all we know. And then we are pushed out into the world, a great, big, wonderful world that we never could have dreamt of. And I imagine this is the same way that death works: we cannot imagine anything beyond what we can experience on earth, and while it is frightening to leave what we know here, there is another better world to explore and know. It is the mystery that is the scariest part, but I imagine also the most beautiful.

Love you Gramps. Welcome home.

My coworker thinks I should write a book. I don't know that I have a book's worth of things to say...well that's a lie. I don't know that I have a book's worth of things people want to read. Anyways, I think it is an interesting idea to entertain, mainly because I immediately leap to who will star as me in the motion picture event. Anyways, I began to think about the many things that I could write about. Do I write Seinfeld-esque minute observances of life? Do I utilize dazzling, hilarious wordplay to write seemingly meaningless events like David Sedaris? Thoughtful insights through the vehicle of eccentricity like Anne Lamott (I'm sorry, her last name always makes me think of Mott's applesauce. Excuse me, I need a snack)?

I'm back. As I lay (or laid?! Or lied?! I NEVER know! This is not a good beginning for a future writer...but nothing that can't be googled I imagine) in bed last night thinking, I imagined the most important part of the book: the dedication page. I finished the dedication page in my head, but I imagine you'll have to read my book to see it. Bwa ha ha (I'm also good at suspense--a key and difficult writing technique).

"I love the city of Portland.

It would be impossible for me to estimate how many times I’ve said that sentence over the last decade and a half of living in the Rose City.

There’s so much to recommend it, but I honestly think one of the things I love so much are the people. At times a bit eccentric, but almost always kind and polite, they are concerned about each other and the world. If you believe in community, in caring for the environment, in taking care of others, especially those on the margins, then Portland is for you.

And interestingly enough, those are also very same reasons I love Jesus."

--I read this on a church website of a church in Portland (www.evergreenlife.org). I love this. I have a lot of issues with the church, but this sort of stance may bring me back. I can't wait to be apart of a community just like this one. Thank you God for beautiful places like this.