Winter Wonderland

I am not well know for loving winter. Our summers are spectacular, but I generally see winter as something to be endured. While our friends on the east coast have been getting all of the snow, Anchorage has had an unusual week of ice fog. Now I have something to celebrate.

There are trees all over Anchorage and now they are all coated with the most amazing looking hoar frost. The whole world looks like one big Ansel Adams photo. The bike path to the nearby lake reminds me of a faery land and some Narnia jokes were made. I know it will just be a matter of days before wind or snow changes it all so I am savoring every drive and walk of every day while it is here.

These photos were taken with my phone and they don't do the scenery justice, but I wanted to share some of this beauty with you. They were all taken in color by the way. I am grateful to have something to appreciate about winter since one of my goals is to find the good in what I have instead of wishing for something else. I reserve the right to change my mind by February, but right now I am loving winter in Anchorage.

Gay Rights Ordinance Passes in Anchorage

Finally some good political news. I've been pretty discouraged lately every time I read the news, but here is a tiny little ray of sunshine here in our very red state of Alaska. The Anchorage Assembly has passed an ordinance protection gays, lesbians, and transgenders from discrimination. Article here if you are interested.

This victory was hard fought and the battle was ugly. I've written previously about the opposition to passing this ordinance. I'm honestly surprised it passed. Our new mayor has seven days to decide whether or not to veto and he claims he still is not sure what he will do. Mayor Sullivan is both a Catholic and a political conservative so the odds are likely he will choose to veto. To give you a hint, Sarah Palin stated that nothing would make her happier than to be able to work with Dan Sullivan as Mayor of Anchorage. Any of you living in Anchorage, please call or e-mail Mayor Sullivan and ask him politely to respect the rights of all his constituents and allow the ordinance to become law.

With all the negativity and craziness that is the current American political forum, here's one for the good guys!

Eagle Encounter and Great Alaska Weekend

It is my firm opinion that no one loves summer like Alaskans do. I love it even more than most. Weekends like this are what makes it worthwhile to live with winter seven months of the year. Just beautiful.

We had a great 4th of July weekend here in south-central Alaska. The extended fam, my best girlfriend, and I went to the Girdwood Forrest Fair on Saturday. Girdwood is a bedroom community based around a ski resort and also the infamous home of Ted Stevens's re-modeled house. They have a music festival there every year that features lots of booths selling only hand made goods, sort of like a small state fair run by hippies. We brought a pic nic and spent the day in the sunshine in the mountains. I think I'll plan the logistics differently next time, but it was a good time. I was the driver so no bier garden for me, but maybe next year.

Yesterday, the girls and I went to the local swimming hole lake and got up close and personal with an eagle. Anchorage residents can be pretty blase about encounters with wildlife; we frequently have moose in our yard in the winter and bears are becoming more of a problem in some parts of town. (I'm not kidding, a bear recently ate a co-worker's cat. She lives sort of out in the woods though.) This was amazing even by Anchorage standards. We often see bald eagles flying around our house. They like to hunt for fish in the local lakes, but I have never been this close to one before. The eagle had its eye on some delicious looking goslings, when some seaguls chased it into a tree. They usualyl stay up pretty high so you don't see them down in the cottonwoods, but there it was trying to get one of those fuzzy little floating snacks. We finally went up near to the tree when we realized the seaguls weren't going to let it go anywhere, they are quite insistant, and we were only about 35 feet from the eagle. It was amazing and I will probably never get that close to an eagle outside a zoo ever again.

I made a big batch of Alaska-style bouillabaisse last night with salmon, halibut, cod, clams, and crab stock, all caught wild by someone I know. Real Alaskans consider me too much of a city girl to count, but I felt authentic last night. We finished up the evening on my deck with my husband and a good friend and a mojito watching the squirrels in the trees. The hot temperatures made the evening shade feel just perfect. I often dread the hassle and expectations of holidays, but this was the perfect ending to a great 4th of July weekend.

Gay Rights Ordinance in Anchorage & Fundamentalists

When did political discourse in this country descend to the level of one team wears red shirts and one team wears blue? Shouldn't matters of civil rights and freedoms be decided in a way that is a little more dignified than a high school football rivalry?

Anyway, I'm getting ahead of myself. Last night the Anchorage Assembly heard public testimony on a proposed municipal ordinance that would prohibit discrimination on the basis of sexual preference, identity or perceived identity. I normally wouldn't expect you all to be interested in local Anchorage politics, but I think there are larger issues going on here. Expect this to be a long post so buckle up or bail out now. You were warned.

I went to the meeting, not to testify, but because I knew that the pastor of the local Baptist megachurch was going to be turning out a lot of members to protest. I wanted to make sure that they were not the only ones there so I went straight from work. The evening ended up being much more emotional than I anticipated. For a more detailed accounting of the testimony, see Mudflats as I intend to deal more with how it all affected me. When I walked up to the building, there was an army of people, mostly teens and young adults, all wearing red shirts and holding signs against the ordinance. I guess they meant for us to know that they are "red-blooded Americans" or Sarah Palin's "real Americans". Later me learned that some of them were bussed in from the Mat-Su Valley which includes the now-famous Wasilla and Palmer. They were civil and polite, but the effect was creepy.

While about 90% of the protesters wore red, once inside I discovered that about half of the people in support of the ordinance wore blue. At first this seemed really juvenile to me, but as the evening wore on it made me feel like I wasn't in America anymore, like I was a foreign country where you had to make sure you didn't wear the wrong color to the wrong part of town. I'm not used to the shirt I wear being a political statement. That is not the Anchorage I grew up in.

Most of the testimony on both sides was predictable, you can probably fill in the blanks, but I was totally unprepared for the vitriol of the crowd. Many speakers made the arguement that the ordinance prohibited the free practice of religion because it did not allow religious individuals to discriminate against gay and transgendered people. I disagree with them, bit at least I get their argument. This lofty rhetoric was at odds with the comments coming from the crowd of red shirts. The vitriol was palpable. I have been to political events before, but never one with this kind of tension in the room. When speakers would testify against the ordinance based on homosexuality being an obvious perversion, there was joy and passion in their calls and applause. It was like it felt so good for them to look down on other.

I finally left at 9:00 so I could get home to tuck in my girls. Once again, I has to work through a sea of red to reach the parking lot. That was uncomfortable for me, but I can only imagine how it must of felt for the LGBT people in attendance, especially the ones who had been called freaks. By this time hand made signs had cropped up that showed less of the love of Christ than the official ones. I asked a woman about one of them on my way out and our exchange left both of us frustrated. Determined to take the high road, I wished her a good evening and left. I had no idea how upset I would be by the time I made it to my car. I mean, totally unprepared.

I thought it was a release from all of the tension and ugliness, but as I drove I realized what it was: those agents of intolerance, they were my people. That is exactly the sub-culture in which I was raised. Those people who called my friends perverts, they could have set next to me in a pew. They could have been my teacher or classmate at my Christian school. They could have been members of my family.

I didn't think before that that is how I was raised. While I disagreed with their theology, I thought I was raised in a culture of love, of personal responsibility refore God, of not judging other people's hearts, because that was between them and God. I thought I was raised with tolerance and compassion, but maybe I was wrong.

I have left Christianity in general and evangelicalism in particular behind me, but I can't avoid the fact that they have shaped me. I know that in a way their teachings will always affect the way I think. I know how they think, and what makes them angry. I know their agenda because it was drilled into me. I know their codewords sometimes without even realising codewords are being used because they are ingrained in my thought patterns. I also know that most of those people who made me so sad last night are good people. They feed the poor and help single mothers and reach out to prisoners. They are not monsters. They are just like the people who taught me to sing, the people who cared enough to help me when I was a confused teenager. They are the kind and generous people I grew up with. They are also religious bigots.

It is very hard for me to find common ground with fundamentalists right now and that makes me sad. It means that I am cut off from my own history, from my own younger self. It means that I am cut off from coworkers and from members of my own family. Generally, we just don't talk about a lot of things, but that lack of communication is a huge hinderance to closeness that I don't know how to get past. So I feel like there is a hole where my past was. That is what hit me in the gut last night.

I have heard, but never felt before the similarity between Christian and Islamic fundamentalists. Those comparisons seemed like such exagerations. But now I see that, at least sometimes, the differences between the two groups are differences of scale and not of kind. I don't mean to sounds hyperbolic here and maybe I will feel more reasonable later, but right now I am more concerned than ever about the Christian Right.

Last night I comforted myself with the memory of a 14-year old little Strange Attractor who was the only one in her Bible class at school to support the idea that gay people had a right to a job in my hypethetical ice cream shop and they weren't worse than any other sinner. But I also remember a 15-year old Strange Attractor who went to the Pat Robertson for President rally to volunteer for his campaign. I held close that memory of my teenage defiance, that belief that being a Christian didn't mean you got to tell people how to live their lives. I treasured it because I know that that kid in red waiving those signs, cheering for bigotry, telling people that they don't count, that kid could have been me.