Unsafe medicine: politics & religion in the waiting room

In September, my partner plans to join her family on a trip to Africa.  In preparation for this adventure, we scheduled an appointment with a family medicine practice in Anchorage that also specializes in travel medicine.  The practice was one of two recommended to us by the Anchorage health department.

I sat next to my partner in the waiting room this past week as she filled out the inevitable paperwork.  On the opposite wall a booklet caught my eye.  White, a graphic representation of the American flag, and the word “Indivisible” on the cover.  There’s a lot of flag-waving in Alaska, especially as it relates to the military, and several of the doctors in the practice have a military background.  I didn’t think much of it.

Then I saw the other pamphlets in the magazine rack.  Flyers for the Heritage Foundation.   Interesting.

Another patient was sitting directly in front of the flyers, so I didn’t investigate further.

I turned to my partner, glanced at her info sheet, saw that she was honestly answering questions about sexual orientation, religious preferences, and the importance of religion in her life (gay, none, not at all).  Uh-oh.  We might have a problem.  I was starting to feel a little uncomfortable.

The patient sitting by the magazine rack went back to the exam rooms.  As the door closed behind him, I noticed the flyer posted on the door:  an invitation to an adult singles’ retreat at a local megachurch.

I went to investigate the Heritage Foundation flyers, and to find out what the “Indivisible” booklets were.  The booklets (there was a stack of about 20 of them on the shelf below the rack) were: “Indivisible: Social and Economic Foundations of American Liberty–Leading Conservatives Engage Policy Perspectives)“.  Next to the white booklets was a bible.

I sat back down next to my partner, and muttered something to her about it being “pretty religious in here.”  She said, “What?” Loudly.  I went and got one of the pamphlets, and a booklet.  She leafed through them.  Found the article in “Indivisible” against equal marriage by the founder of the Ruth Institute.  Said, “I think I’d like to leave.  I don’t want to give these people my money.”

We decided to stay for the appointment, since they would probably charge us anyway if we walked out.

Eventually it was our turn.  As the nurse checked my partner’s vitals (I wonder what her blood pressure was?), I read the framed “Career Manifesto” on the wall, signed by several of the doctors.  I tried to work on lowering my own blood pressure.

While we waited for the doctor, we talked about what we wanted to do.  Did we want to say something?  Yes.  When?  First thing, we decided.

It didn’t happen first thing, since the doctor breezed in and started talking at 75 mph.  We talked about malaria prevention, yellow fever vaccines, and re-entry requirements.  Finally the doctor asked, “Do you have any other questions?”

And my partner said, “Well, yes.  I just wanted to know if you have a problem with treating me.  Because if you do, I can go somewhere else.”

The doctor looked confused.  My partner explained everything we’d seen in the waiting room, and then the doctor said that she was only working there for the summer, that she didn’t own the practice, and that she didn’t have a problem with treating my partner.

It was awkward, and only half-convincing.

We’re supposed to go back, once we get a clearer picture of what shots will be needed.   We haven’t decided what to do.  On the one hand, we don’t believe in boycotting a business because of the business owner’s religious beliefs.  But on the other hand, being there feels terrible.

Any suggestions?

Standing With Those Who Stand Against Us

The New York Times ran an article yesterday headlined “Obama Wins Unlikely Allies in Immigration.”  According to the article, a group of influential evangelical leaders have joined President Obama’s efforts to promote immigration reform.

One of those leaders says in the article,

I am a Christian and I am a conservative and I am a Republican, in that order….There is very little I agree with regarding President Barack Obama. On the other hand, I’m not going to let politicized rhetoric or party affiliation trump my values, and if he’s right on this issue, I will support him on this issue.

Why are these prominent evangelicals switching tracks on this issue?  It’s because they’ve had a chance to build relationships with ministers whose communities are affected by current immigration policies.  And they met those ministers working against marriage equality.

Their presence was a testament, in part, to the work of politically active Hispanic evangelical pastors, who have forged friendships with non-Hispanic pastors in recent years while working in coalitions to oppose abortion and same-sex marriage. The Hispanics made a concerted effort to convince their brethren that immigration reform should be a moral and practical priority.

This is really painful, and it’s hard for me to wrap my mind around people fighting for their own civil rights, while also actively fighting to deny the civil rights of other people.

It makes me want to turn away from the immigration issue, particularly when there’s some logic to the argument that “Hispanics are religious, family-oriented, pro-life, entrepreneurial….They are hard-wired social conservatives, unless they’re driven away.”

But if I turn away too quickly, I miss the gem hidden in this article:  forged friendships led to real change.

Now, the word “forge” has two meanings, and both are helpful in this case.

One meaning, “to copy for the purpose of deception,” is what we mean when we talk about forging a check or a signature.  In this case, I think it’s good to acknowledge that there’s sometimes a “fake it ’til you make it” quality to our friendship-forging with people who are different from us.  If we act like friends long enough, if we practice the skills of friendship long enough, sometimes we may discover that we truly have become friends.

The second meaning, “make or shape (a metal object) by heating it in a fire or furnace and beating or hammering it” also reflects the reality of friend-making with people who are different from us.  It is hard, painful, sweaty work.

At the Girdwood Forest Fair a few weeks ago I purchased a metal hook forged in the Matanuska Valley, home to Sarah Palin, home to a whole lot of people who really, really don’t like GLBT people.  I had a brief, friendly conversation with the blacksmith who forged the hook, and the hook is now holding a birdfeeder on our deck.  I have no idea how he feels about GLBT people, but we share a commitment to remembering how to make real things.  Given more time, and enough energy and heat, perhaps we could forge a friendship on the basis of that shared commitment.

The idea that relationships change people is not new.  When I began the process of coming out, I learned a lot from the Presbyterian group That All May Freely Serve.  One of the primary strategies of TAMFS is “personing the issue.”  It’s a slow and difficult process, but change happens when we know (and learn to love) someone who is GLBT, uses a wheelchair, has crossed the border “illegally,”  and yes, even someone who voted for Prop 8 in California, even someone who wore a red shirt at the Anchorage Assembly last summer.

The work of love knows no limits.  We live in a fractured world, and standing on the side of love will sometimes mean standing with those who stand against us.  In the forge of such friendships, old ideas die and new ones come to life, and we all are changed.

Local Eggs from Tranquility Heights

One of my goals on 43 Things is “Buy local eggs.” When Brady, our Australian Cattle Dog, was taking regular herding lessons in Wasilla, we had a source of flavorful, farm-fresh eggs.  Every Saturday morning I loaded Brady, myself, and our “empties” in the car, and several hours later I arrived back home with a tired pup, an exhausted me, and a few dozen eggs.

The local egg-producer in Girdwood is very small-scale, and doesn’t produce enough eggs to supply my fridge regularly.

On my last trip to Natural Pantry, I decided to explore the sign that said, “Local Eggs.”  My investigation led me to what was, hands down, the most beautiful egg carton I’ve ever seen.

The eggs are from the Tranquility Heights Farm in Palmer, from chickens raised by a member of the “Wolverine Farm” family.  I know it’s irrational, but just holding the carton made me feel more tranquil.

The locavore movement often brings together people with wildly disparate world views.  In this case, a non-theistic, gay Unitarian bought eggs from a farm whose blog shouts, “Four Generations Growing Food for God’s Glory.”

At the height of the culture wars, everyone thought that boycotts were the solution.  Spot a homophobe?  Boycott their business.  Disney perceived as gay-friendly?  If you’re a Christian, you won’t go to Disneyland.

Now something has shifted.  Both sides are shifting from a separatist stance to one of engagement.  Instead of boycotts, left and right are beginning to use strategies such as conversation and relationship.

I’m not sure how this shift began.  In my case, having a neutral issue (sustainable food) that both left and right care about has encouraged my transition from confrontation to conversation.  I’m pretty sure I could have a rip-roaring argument with the farmer who sells pork at the Anchorage Farmers’ Market.  But I want to buy a half-hog from him, so I practice restraint about our differences, and connect with him on common ground.

One of the rallying cries of the locavore movement is, “Know your farmer.” I will probably keep looking for a reliable source of local eggs, but not because the farmer at Tranquility Heights has a different perspective.  I have questions for her.  I want to know how she raises her chickens, and what she thinks about organic feed, and what breed of chickens she raises.  I want to know her, and be known by her.  I want us to learn to trust each other, and we can’t do that as long as our relationship is mediated by the refrigerated section at Natural Pantry.

Better Green than Gay?

Even though women are no longer scarce in Alaska, we still have the highest male-female ratio in the nation, and the cult of rugged masculinity still has many Alaskan followers.  Drive the speed limit, and a full-size pick-up will be on your bumper, and then pass you on a double-yellow.  The Alaska State Fair has three Carhartt events, including a ”Crusty Carhartt Contest,” open to both women and men.  Even some of our Democratic politicians subscribe to the “Drill, baby, drill,” school of resource management.

Alaskan environmentalists are a passionate but beleaguered minority.  Politicians exploit Alaskan xenophobia by claiming that the “greenies” are Outsiders “telling us what to do.”

This week I went to the Eagle River Schucks Auto Supply to buy Fast Orange hand cleaner.  I explained to the Schucks guy that “we like it because it has no petroleum solvents.”

Suddenly we were talking about plastics, and their toxic effects on our bodies.

There are pockets of liberalism in Alaska, but Eagle River is not one of them.  Encountering an environmental ally there, in an auto parts store, was a surprise.

He kept insisting, however, that young boys were most affected by plastic’s toxins leaching into their bodies.  Finally he said, “That’s why we’ve got so many effeminate young men.”

Aha.  That explained the intensity in his voice.  It wasn’t generalized concern about the well-being of children and the health of our planet.  It was homophobia.

Here in Alaska, it’s “better green than gay.”