Dear friends,
It has been a long time since I’ve sent a newsletter. I want you to know that I have been very good about intending to write and send it, so here it is.
Last year, when I spent the summer in Guatemala, I went birdwatching for the first time in my life. It was a lovely experience, so serene. I think it is the perfect activity for anyone who creates because it teaches you to be still, pay attention, and focus.
Most important, I learned something new: Baltimore orioles (the birds not the baseball players) migrate south all the way to central Guatemala in the winter. This migration pattern raises an interesting question: where is their true home? Guatemala or the mid-Atlantic coast of the US? Or neither or both? And since they’re not leasing apartments nor does their travel require passports or visas, does it even matter?
Democratizing Knowledge
One of the most fascinating aspects of the birdwatching experience for me was talking to our tour guide, Josué. He told me that a few years ago, he was assigned to accompany an Argentinean PhD student in ornithology that came to Guatemala—they walked through woods and hills looking at birds together for several weeks. As it turns out, Josué knew just as much about the local birds: their calls, migration patterns, and colors. He could even tell what bird a single feather on the ground came from, as I learned from first-hand experience.
What Josué did not know was mostly the stuff you learn in books, like the scientific name of the birds, for example. His knowledge of the landscape was personal; the PhD student’s knowledge was academic. There is nothing necessarily wrong with having either form of knowledge. The problem is that only one way of knowing is valued: academic knowing. Personal knowing is vastly undervalued and often even ignored.
I’m sharing all this with you because it really grieves me. It’s the ongoing harm of colonization, and the more I learn, the more it shows up in ways I did not expect. Even knowledge, which I thought would be neutral, is not valued when it has indigenous roots. Indigenous wisdom and ways of knowing are thrown away.
Faith in Crisis
Someone told me recently that you don’t just write a book; the book writes you as well. And that resonated so well with me because this second book has written me—it has really thrown my faith into a crisis—not because of evangelicalism and not because I’ve become more of a liberation theologian over time. It’s because it’s hard for me to face all the harm Christianity has done historically.
One of the things I read that did not make it into my book is that the Spanish conquistadores would baptize indigenous women before they raped them because they had been told they couldn’t be intimate with “infidels.” Just who exactly is the infidel in this scenario?
And then I thought about all the Latinxs I know who are so proud of their mestizo blood that’s mixed with Spanish blood—so much so that they overemphasize their Spanish roots, which in many cases was the result of the rape and abuse of our indigenous ancestors.
And that’s the real reason it has taken me so long to write. I don’t know how to reconcile what I’m learning or even communicate how it has affected my faith. So I thought it was better for me to be silent about it. But then I reconsidered. I came to faith in spaces where people always shared a testimony after the fact—after they had come through it and were on the other side rejoicing. So here I am inviting you into the messy process, and I don’t know when or how it will end. Or, more disturbingly, if it will.
You may be wondering what my big announcement is—here it is:
I’m moving to Mexico City on April 1! My job has a big office in the city, and I’ll be working from there for the next couple of years. I’m excited about this move—I’ve wanted to learn about migration from the perspective of the people leaving and the push factors. I feel fortunate to work for an organization that works to provide young people support as well as economic and educational opportunities, so they don’t feel the need to leave their home.
And before you ask, yes, I’m taking Oscar my cat with me. I’m already teaching him Spanish, which has resulted in his ignoring me in two languages instead of one.
I hope you are well. I recently saw a picture of otters holding hands while they sleep so they don’t drift away, and I hope you have someone whose hand you can hold to find safety and support.
With hope,
Karen
I loved reading this Karen! I’ve talked about knowledge power with friends and how often experiential knowledge is undervalued. And higher education is often most accessible to the privileged.
And congrats on your big move!
You are so spot on sis. Madrina Conde-Frazier once told me about tacit knowledge over explicit knowledge which is the more formal learning that is valued in colonized societies and how BIPOC folx often get caught in elitist mindsets when looking at our own people. Congrats on the move! That a BIG move but I love that you are following your hearts desires. We only have one great life!