Race and Religion

Indigenous peoples have the right to determine their own identity or membership in accordance with their customs and traditions. This does not impair the right of indigenous individuals to obtain citizenship of the States in which they live.

United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, Article 33, section 1

Three of the classes I am taking this semester reflect on racial identity, religious identity, or both, and how this concept of self shapes a person's interactions with the Other, those who define themselves as belonging to a separate racial or religious category. One of the topics that has come up most frequently is the definition or classification of these identity categories, and how these definitions come to be. Interestingly, the mutual conclusion reached is that there is no way to satisfactorily define religion or race inclusively, and that they are invariably defined by the Other. Some of my colleagues have even thrown out the idea that we should get rid of these words altogether, and try to find new ways of describing these personal identities, while one of my professors has already taken this step, prefering to refer to "lifeways" instead of "religions" or "traditions".

An article I read for my class in Race and Religion in American History (REL 705), entitled Race, Nation, and Religion in the Americas by Goldschmidt and McAlister, argues for the conflation of religious/racial identity, citing examples including the widespread prejudice following 9/11 against Arab-looking peoples, who were targeted for hate crimes based on the misconception that they were Muslim terrorists. According to the article, one's identity is composed of multiple aspects, including race, nation, religion, gender, sexual orientation, etc., which are not discrete. Nation may include race, race may include religion, and religion may include nation.

While the article did not address the formation of identity, I have extrapolated from my readings that there are two kinds of identity: internally-defined identity, and externally-defined identity. Internally-defined identity is how one defines oneself; externally-defined identity is how one is defined by others, normally through socio-historical processes. In most circumstances, externally-defined identity is the root of tension.

In 2007, the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples was adopted by General Assembly, and in Article 33, it gives indigenous peoples the right to identify themselves as indigenous. To me, this is momentous. Giving the people the right to identify themselves by their own standards, rather than standards laid out for them by a governing authority, may seem like a small step, but it is the first step on the road to relieving racial tension.

A Meditation on Names

ce-les-tial /səˈlɛs ʧəl/
adjective

1. pertaining to the sky or visible heaven;
2. pertaining to the spiritual or invisible heaven; heavenly; divine;
3. of or pertaining to celestial navigation;
4. (initial capital letter) of or pertaining to the former Chinese Empire or the Chinese people.

noun

1. an inhabitant of heaven;
2. (initial capital letter) a citizen of the Celestial Empire.

fig¹ /fɪɡ/
noun

1. any tree or shrub belonging to the genus Ficus, of the mulberry family, esp. a small tree, F. carica, native to southwestern Asia, bearing a turbinate or pear-shaped fruit that is eaten fresh, preserved, or dried;
2. the fruit of such a tree or shrub, or of any related species;
3. any of various plants having a fruit somewhat resembling this;
4. a contemptibly trifling or worthless amount; the least bit;
5. a gesture of contempt.

tree /tri/
noun

1. a plant having a permanently woody main stem or trunk, ordinarily growing to a considerable height, and usually developing branches at some distance from the ground;
2. any of various shrubs, bushes, and plants, as the banana, resembling a tree in form and size;
11. ...the cross on which Christ was crucified.

I am beginning a journey. It is one I have wanted to begin for many years now, and I have only just reached the point in my life where I feel capable of trying. The trail that I want to hike leads not to some blissful meadow, or stunning mountain peak; it leads instead to a friendship, a relationship, a communion. I have been called to know Christ.

I have been a Christian all my life, though I have never been particularly religious. Church was not a large part of my childhood. I came to know God in other ways, mostly through living in a beautifully isolated mountain region in the desert of West Texas. So to me, religion is a historical thing that I study, while God is something I experience.

Now that I have graduated from Rice University, I am pursuing a Master of Divinity degree at Yale Divinity School, where I have already experienced God in different ways. I never before understood the importance of being grounded in a Christian community, but now I have experienced it. There is nothing quite as remarkable as being able to study in a place where everyone around you seems to know God, even if they experience him in different ways.

So I have decided to (try to) keep this blog as a record of my personal growth through my years at YDS. And, being the person that I am, the name I chose for it was of the utmost importance. So here is a little bit of the thought process behind the name I chose:

While I was still in my mother's womb, my parents spent a very long time in the process of picking out names. They both had ideas for names they liked, which often conflicted. My mom liked long, flowery names, while my father liked simple, short names. Eventually they came to choose Katelyn. My middle name, on the other hand, was harder to pick, and they first encountered the name I was given while browsing a nursery, where they found a Celeste fig tree. They liked the name, and debated it for a little while. The fact that it was the same as my aunt's first name sealed the deal, and my name became Katelyn Celeste.

I have always loved that in some way, I was named after a tree, but I never really thought about the significance of the tree. The name Celeste, I have always known, meant "heavenly". But what I did not know was that figs were used as a symbol for peace and prosperity in the Bible (1 Kings 4:25; Micah 4:4; Zech. 3:10). Trees are symbolic as well: they represent growth, life, and more obscurely, rebirth, through the crucifixion of the Christ.

At heart, I am a tree-hugging, Christian girl, and I know that I am always striving to be better than I currently am. To me, the Celeste fig tree is a symbol of the kind of growth I am pursuing. My journey: peacefully heaven-bound.