Statement on Integrity's Reduction of Force

TransEpiscopal is saddened by the news that Vivian Taylor and Samuel Peterson, the two full time employees of IntegrityUSA, have been let go due to a reduction of workforce. Taylor served as Integrity’s Executive Director from 2013-2015, and Peterson came on as Director of Development several months after Taylor began.

TransEpiscopal honors their pioneering ministries and contributions to furthering The Episcopal Church’s witness to God’s love for LGBTQ persons. Integrity announced Vivian Taylor on August 6, 2013 as “the first openly transgender woman to lead a major mainline protestant denominational organization in the US.” Taylor is a creative, charismatic leader who brought strong gifts in communications, entrepreneurialism and organization building. She recruited a powerful group of writers for Integrity’s blog and contributed her own moving posts. She also continued the spirit of collaboration that developed between Integrity and TransEpiscopal in the years after our founding in 2005.

In addition to his work as Development Director, Sam Peterson contributed to the Walking with Integrity blog, including two recent incisive pieces. One was about the Reverend Pauli Murray, a person of complex gender history who was the first African American woman to be ordained an Episcopal priest. The other piece, on the Task Force’s Creating Change conference, emerged from the honor of Peterson’s membership in the Task Force’s “2015 Trans Leadership Exchange.”

As Taylor noted after one of her early visits to Integrity chapters across the United States, “the real power and energy of Integrity is in the people…Speaking with people about their own lives and experiences is an absolute treasure trove.”In that same spirit, we lift up and celebrate the power and energy of the unique humanity that Taylor and Peterson have brought to Integrity and far beyond. We recognize the significance of having had two openly trans people as the only full time employees in The Episcopal Church’s main LGBTQ+ advocacy organization. We are incredibly proud of them.

We are also disheartened at the financial strain that so often besets churches and other organizations that work for peace and justice. Unaware that Integrity’s own finances had reached such a critical juncture, we were surprised to learn of the decision to let these talented leaders go. We grieve that the financial hardship that Peterson and Taylor now personally face is one shared by trans people in staggering numbers across the United States.

Bringing to light the continued, multi-pronged broader pattern of vulnerability in trans communities is a key part of the witness that TransEpiscopal plans to bring to the 78th General Convention thisJune.

In light of our shared ministries as we head to into General Convention, we call upon the Integrity Board to recognize and respond to the deep pastoral impact this decision is having upon trans people in and beyond The Episcopal Church. We seek and invite a relationship of greater transparency and clearer communication. We look forward to reclaiming the trust that grounds our shared ministries to make explicit God’s love for LGBTQ persons.

True Voice of Witness: Louise Brooks

Today the world lost a remarkable woman named Louise Brooks. I knew her through The Episcopal Church’s LGBT advocacy organization IntegrityUSA, for which Louise was the communications director over the last several years.  She brought to that role a long career as a documentary film-maker, journalist, activist and media-consultant.  Together with her wife, Integrity’s most recent president emerita the Reverend Canon Susan Russell, Louise brought impressive media sophistication to the organization’s communications.

I first met Louise in the summer of 2007 when I joined a number of LGBT and allied Episcopalians at a New York City roundtable as part of the Anglican Communion Listening Process on sexuality.  As I pulled up a chair to this proverbial table, Louise was among a cadre of formidable folks who welcomed me warmly.  I saw Louise the following summer at the “Fringe Festival” of the Lambeth Conference (the decennial gathering of bishops from around the Anglican Communion), and then a year later at the 2009 General Convention of The Episcopal Church.  It was there that we began talking more, and that the seeds were sown for what turned out to be – as far as I know – her last film project: Voices of Witness Out of the Box.

For the first time in 2009, Integrity and TransEpiscopal had brought several volunteers to the Convention to do advocacy and education on trans equality.  As part of that effort, Dante Tavolaro (Deputy from the Diocese of Rhode Island in both 2009 and 2012) and I led a “Trans 101” for the combined Integrity/TransEpiscopal team (you can catch bits of it in the video posted below).  About thirty or so people, including Louise, gathered in Integrity’s meeting room as Dante sketched out a simple grid or set of rules that went like this: in the West or Global North we’re assigned a sex at birth, either male or female; males are expected to grow up to be men, to “act like men”, and to date women. Those born female are expected to become women, to “act like women”, and to date men.  There are many ways to violate these rules.  To not act “like a man” or “like a woman” in your given context, to date people of your same sex, or to transition are just a few.  Gender theorists call this set of rules “heteronormativity.”  Christian theologians call it “complementarity.” Louise called it “the box.”  

As she put it in this May 15th preview, Louise left the 2009 General Convention committed to bringing this conversation, trans voices, and “the box” idea itself to the wider church.

About six months after GenCon 2009, Louise called me up to explore the idea for the documentary.  Could Integrity and TransEpiscopal work together on a film that showed not only how transgender people are “out of the box” but also — at least implicitly – how many other, nontrans people are out of it as well?   This film could convey both difference and connection—that trans people have different challenges than nontrans people do and at the same time that what can make life difficult for us also impacts everyone else.  We all live with the pervasive influence of that box which, crucially, intersects and assembles anew in conjunction with race, class, ability, and national origin.  We are connected in our struggle, even as we struggle in distinct ways.

As Louise ultimately described the project, "Gender identity and gender expression are issues that can easily be misunderstood and cannot be wrapped up in a neat little box.  So the goal of Out of the Box was to answer some of the most frequently asked questions.”  The simplicity of “the box” pointed to, opened – but did not seek to plumb – the complexity underlying it.

We talked and emailed about the film at several points between 2010 and last winter.  When I learned that Louise was ill, I suspected the film would need to go on hold, perhaps indefinitely.  But then, seemingly out of nowhere, Out of the Box roared to life.  In early February I flew out to Los Angeles for a day of filming.  Louise seemed totally in her element.  She was fatigued but connected and absolutely focused.  In between the interviews we talked about the upcoming General Convention and about Macky Allston’s powerful film Love Free Or Die that had just been released.  I was honored and grateful to be part of this work, curious and excited about its potential impact.

What I hadn’t realized was just how steeped in transformation this film was from the start.  Shortly after its release on May 31^st, I saw a HufPo blog post by Louise’s wife (and major Out of the Box supporter) Susan Russell.  Susan explained, “what we found in Anaheim in 2009 was that the presence of members of TransEpiscopal testifying in committee hearings, participating in round-table discussions, speaking their truth, and sharing their lives created a profoundly teachable moment that quite literally changed lives.”  But what really struck me was the next sentence: “And one of those was my wife.” “Now,” Susan continued, “I have a hard-and-fast rule to never blog about my wife, but this blog is going to be the exception that proves the rule. A long-time activist, journalist, documentarian, and media consultant, Louise was convinced that gay, lesbian, and bisexual equality was a hard enough row to hoe without adding the ‘T’ into the mix. ‘Let's fight one battle at a time’ pretty much summed up her position -- that is, until the 2009 General Convention and the powerful witness of the transgender folk who so courageously shared their stories, their experience, their journeys, and their reality with her. She left Anaheim committed to finding a way to get their voices out beyond the relatively small audience of an Episcopal General Convention team -- and the idea for the documentary film project Voices of Witness: Out of the Box was born.”

I read that and was speechless.  It’s one thing to talk about transformation – I hear the word all the time, and I preach it, too – but seeing it, hearing an authentic story of it, experiencing it just takes my breath away.  I had not understood what a profound impact we had had on Louise.

But in retrospect, as I contemplated Susan’s words, it made sense.  Or at least, it explained more fully the deep sense of connection, the passion with which Louise pursued this project.  It very clearly mattered to her at a deep level.  When she said she was making the film as a gift to the church, you could tell she really meant it.  And it truly was. 

I was concerned to learn that Louise was too ill to attend General Convention this past July, but I was far from surprised that she was present all the same.  She was on the phone with the communications team every day.  She was making things happen.  We were all pulling for her, and she was most certainly pulling for us. 

You hear a lot of people described as “fighter.”  “He/she was a fighter.”  I am not someone who knew Louise from Adam, but it seems clear to me that she was indeed a fighter.  She fought for me and so many others.  But there was a heck of a lot more to Louise than that, and I don’t know even a quarter of it.  What I do know, though, is that Louise was a woman of profound compassion, open to being transformed, and passionate about opening that process to others. 

I will always be grateful for her support and solidarity, and my heart is with Susan Russell, with All Saints Pasadena, and IntegrityUSA in this time of loss.  May light perpetual shine on Louise.

CP

Susan Russell and Louise Brooks

Countdown to General Convention: A Video Look at 36 Years of Mission & Ministry

As we prepare for General Convention next week, a  review of our LGBT history in The Episcopal Church from our friends at IntegrityUSA

Voices of Witness: Out of the Box

After years of planning, IntegrityUSA, in collaboration with TransEpiscopal, has created the documentary Voices of Witness: Out of the Box.  As Integrity Director of Communications Louise Brooks has described it,

"'Voices of Witness: Out of the Box' is a groundbreaking documentary giving voice to the witness of transgender people of faith courageously telling their stories of hope, healing and wholeness.

"Gender identity and gender expression are issues that can easily be misunderstood and cannot be wrapped up in a neat little box. So the goal of "Out of the Box" was to answer some of the most frequently asked questions. We have been blessed by a truly amazing cloud of witnesses who shared their stories and their lives with us. It has been a privilege to work with them to take this project from a dream to a reality as we offer their voices of witness to the church and to the world." -- Louise Brooks, Executive Producer

As one of the participants in the film I see this as both an intersection and an opening. It is an intersection  of trans people and church-- church as site of ongoing growth and striving, and potential source of empowerment. It is also an opening-- an opening for non-trans folks who have never seriously contemplated trans people before, an opening for trans people who have not been able to imagine church as an empowering communal space, and an opening even of trans narrative itself, a first fruits of a much larger process for all of us of listening to the variety of ways in which we identify and narrate our lives.

A huge thank you to IntegrityUSA, to the entire production team for Out of the Box, and particularly to Louise Brooks, for her incredible work on this beautiful documentary.  Please share widely!

CP

Other Sheep

The following is an expanded version of the sermon I gave at the end of the “Welcome One Another Fellowship Retreat”," anually offered by the newly named Team on LGBT Inclusion of the New England Synod of the Evangelical Lutheran Church of North America.

CP

Walker Center, Newton, Massachusetts

Good Shepherd Sunday, April 29, 2012

Other Sheep

I want to thank you for the privilege of being with you this weekend, of sharing some of my thoughts on the full incorporation of transgender people into the life of the church—on the implications of that incorporation not only for trans people but also for the church as a whole.  I’ve shared several stories that have taken place at the borders of the church, some even at the borders of retreat circles much like the one in which we’ve been gathered this weekend.  These moments have pointed toward a certain paradox that being a trans person in the life of the church has caused me to notice.  On the one hand, the margins of church and world can be tenuous, sometimes dangerous spaces.  On the other hand, in some ways these borders can be strangely holy, spaces in which God’s transforming presence can be palpable.  This paradox prompts me to think about a broader question: how can the church rediscover its vocation at the margins, to not simply “do charity” there but to reclaim its mission there—to combat pernicious patterns of “othering” wherever it may happen while claiming a certain “other” orientation as a feature of its own life?

In our gospel passage, Jesus speaks of the existence of “other sheep,” sheep that as of yet “do not belong to this fold.”  The Good Shepherd declares, “I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice” (John 10:16).  In a number of ways, we have explored how trans people have been in a sense “other sheep”-- other to or “other-ed” by church and by world.  We have pondered and prayed about how trans “others” might be drawn more freely and fully into the life of the church, how the gifts of trans people might be honored for all that they can and already do contribute.  Along the way we celebrated the breaking good news of TransLutherans, an affinity group within Lutherans Concerned/North America, formed “to broaden our advocacy for more widespread and effective transgender welcome and inclusion in the Church, as well as for advancing the work of seeking justice for all transgender people."  These conversations opened up further dimensions of becoming “one flock.” 

In fact, our churches have been on this journey of discovery for some time now.  One particularly powerful voice in this process from my own denomination is the late Reverend Paul Washington (whose obituary can be found here), rector of Philadelphia’s Church of the Advocate from 1962-1987.  He spoke of his ministry as one of outreach to and uplift of “other sheep”– indeed, his 1994 autobiography is entitled Other Sheep I Have.  As an exhibit on the Episcopal Church Archives website puts it, Washington’s “church became a beacon of liberation for those [he] referred to as the ‘other sheep’: blacks, the poor, the dispossessed, the oppressed, women, and gays.”  In 1964 Washington’s parish hosted the first National Black Power Convention; in 1970 it hosted the National Convention of the Black Panthers Party; and in 1974 it hosted the ordination of the “the Philadelphia Eleven,” the first women to become priests in The Episcopal Church.  Washington was also the mentor of Barbara Clementine Harris who in 1989 became a Suffragan (or assistant) Bishop in my diocese, the Episcopal Diocese of Massachusetts, becoming in the process the first woman bishop in the Anglican Communion, and very much an advocate of “other sheep” in her own right.

The ministries of Rev. Washington and Bishop Harris, of groups like LCNA and IntegrityUSA, TransLutherans and TransEpiscopal, point to the various, unfolding ways in which our churches engage this process.  They also suggest that there will not come a day– not in this life – when the incorporation of the “other” into the “one flock” will be over and done with, a day in which we can all sigh with relief and sit back in our chairs, knowing that we -- a “we” of the “one flock”-- have checked off every box.  I further do not believe there is any way to circumvent or transcend this process— we cannot jump to “all” language without grappling with specific instances of “othering” along the way.  It is an ongoing, sometimes disruptive process, the kind of realized-eschatological birth to which Rev. Washington referred when he introduced the opening hymn of the Philadelphia ordinations, “Come, Labor On”:  “what is one to do when the democratic process, the political dynamics, and the legal guidelines are out of step with the Divine Imperative which says ‘Now is the time?’” (quoted in Carter Heyward’s A Priest Forever, 86; summarized in Alla Bozarth Campbell’s Womanpriest, 129-130)

Thus one question our conversations this weekend have circled around is how to imagine, how to conceive theologically of our growth into “one flock,” how to see our undoing of “othering” as integral to that growth.  Neither Episcopalians nor Lutherans tend to think of ourselves as the “one true church.”  It isn’t simply that our denominations are in full communion with one another (which we have been since 2001 see this article).  It is that our growth within the body of Christ is accomplished by God, not by us.  If I may presume to “speak Lutheran,” grace finally does the job, not “works.”  But, if I may presume to “speak Anglican,” we also participate in that divine process.  And, to crib Paul, that process is eschatological—we are “changed from glory into glory” (to quote Wesley, speaking Paul!) in a way that lodges us in the already and the not yet.  In other words, we Christians are called to strive toward holy connection – with God and with one another-- even as we trust that God will bring this work to completion.  Crucial to our striving, here and now, is identifying, naming those of us who have been and are being “othered” in the life of the church and of the world.  We are called to help make audible the voice of the Good Shepherd both to the “othered” and the “othering,” that the power of alienation might be undermined.

And if there is any doubt how important this undoing work is, we need only point to a horrific event that took place across the country during our retreat:  a transgender woman, a woman of color, named Brandy Martell, was murdered in Oakland, California on Saturday night in a crime that community members suspect was motivated by hate.

As we strive to help undo such devastating dehumanization, as we seek to amplify the voice of the Good Shepherd, we would do well to take up afresh Jesus’ own marginal ministry.  And in so doing we might also remember the marginality of the church, it own “otherness” in its earliest days.  One of the oldest images we have of the crucifixion is the so-called “Alexemenos graffito.”  Etched into a wall near the Palatine Hill in Rome, a human figure with a donkey head on a cross, flanked by an apparently worshipping figure, is inscribed “Alexander worships his God.”  The notion that a people could worship as God one who was degraded by death on a cross was ridiculous in a Roman imperial context in which an effective Messiah would, after all, come along and with great might overturn the powers that be. 

This ancient insight takes us to the very heart of the power of the cross.  This image conveys how good news can be a skandalon, a stumbling block, foolishness (1 Cor 1:23)—sheer madness to one who expects a straight-forward story of overturning one sort of power with a yet greater form of it.  But we preach Christ crucified and risen, the power of One who poured himself into our midst, became in a sense an emblem of stigma, became other in order to transform otherness into belonging, to draw us into this pattern of metamorphosis and make us its agents.  As we take up that agency, we must remember from whence we came, must remember our otherness – ancient and contemporary – and in so remembering rediscover our border location as Christians.  For we are a people living in the already and the not yet, a people in the world and yet not wholly of it, a people with an ancient propensity for turning the world upside down.

This is a journey that does not end in this life.  It ends at the feet of the God who made us, the one around whom we sing and dance together in eternity.  But between now and then—in this space-time of already and not yet-- we remember and live into this ancient identity, indeed this baptismal mission.  We remember the process of our incorporation into the wider flock, we remember that we are “Other Sheep,” a people oriented to the margin, inviting “other others” into this holy terrain, this sacred journey.

This is the peculiar challenge and privilege of our ministry.  Amen.