This podcast is offered by the San Francisco Zen Center on the web at www.sfcc.org. Our public programs are made possible by donations from people like you. Good morning on this beautiful day, one of the longest days of the year, and happy pride to everyone. My name is Tova Green. And I want to thank David Zimmerman, our head of practice, who's on vacation right now. He's in Florida marrying a gay couple who he has known for a long time. A very appropriate thing to be doing this week. I want to thank him for inviting me to give the talk today. Feels like a great honor to be giving the talk on Pride Saturday. I also want to thank... several people who helped me think about this talk, Karen McDonald, Roy Reamer, and Marcelo Maurer, as well as those in our monthly Queer Dharma group.

[01:11]

And I want to thank all the communities I've been part of over the course of my life, including Zen Center, because they've all shaped me in important ways and in some way prepared me to speak today. And I think that, as Lucy said when she gave her talk on Wednesday night, we co-create a talk. It arises from all of us in the room. And I'm hoping that my words today will be helpful and perhaps encouraging in this time. So one of the things I love about this... and particularly this week, is seeing rainbow flags all over the city. And we have one hanging outside Zen Center. It's a time to celebrate who we are, who all of us are, in all of our magnificence.

[02:13]

And it's also impossible to enter this holiday weekend without being aware of the people who are suffering. at the border, the children separated from their families, the parents separated from the children. And I think many of us may feel, as I do, the pain of that situation. And I think this weekend, it may be a time both to celebrate and to express our concern in different ways. It's a both and. to be able to experience the joy of Pride weekend and the parade and other things people may do to acknowledge this weekend and to also find ways to express our concern about that situation. Just an example of both and experience and thinking, which I feel is so helpful in these times.

[03:23]

And in part, I look forward to Pride Weekend every year because it hasn't always been this way. We haven't always been able to express our joy in being LGBTIQ or any of the letters in the spectrum of genders. And I can... I well remember when gay men and lesbians were closeted, when it was risky to come out at work or to one's family, and that may still be the case for many people, or when we were stigmatized by the health care system and often by employers. And I want to talk this morning about some of the challenges to those of us who walk under the queer And to do that by looking through the lens of the first Buddhist precept, the precept of not killing or not causing harm.

[04:35]

And it can also be expressed in the affirmative as cherishing or supporting life. And I decided to call this talk, I like to find titles for my talks. It's called What Binds Us? And it's from a poem of Jane Hirschfield called For What Binds Us. And I think of, when I thought of what binds us, bind can be restrictive. We can think of what binds us as constricting and tying us up or tying us down. But it can also bind, what binds us can also be thought of as what connects us, what allows us to feel our shared humanity. and in that way can be a very positive concept. So I'd like to start with a poem and a story about myself, and then talk more about the ways we kill and the ways we cherish and support life.

[05:39]

So the poem, I think I'll pause for a little water first. And I did forget to say welcome to Zen Center, particularly to those who may be here for the first time. I hope you'll enjoy being here this morning. And for those who are tuning in through our live stream, which I know makes many of our talks and programs available to people who can't be in this room. So... The poem is called Freedom Summer, August 1963. You're asking for trouble, she told us. Whites and coloreds don't mix here. We were two white girls, college students, knocking on doors in a black neighborhood in Greensboro, North Carolina, registering people to vote.

[06:50]

Some doors opened, some didn't. We got lost on our way back to the Baptist church that sheltered us and 20 other black and white students and stopped to rest in a park. The long-armed, leafy branches shaded us from the heat, protected us from being seen. The kiss took us by surprise. Later, we teased one another about who started it. how our sweaty bodies moved closer, how we leaned towards one another. I stroked Nora's hair, or did she put her arm around my shoulder? Or did our cheeks touch, our heads turn, making the kiss inevitable? That kiss was sweet and long, interrupted by the shouts of children coming to play ball in the park. We slowly rose,

[07:53]

brushing grass off our skirts, and found our way back to the church. A few nights later, all 22 of us boarded a chartered bus bound for Washington, D.C. A police car escorted us out of Greensboro. Nora and I shared a single seat and kissed in the dark. We woke up in Washington to the voices of children singing freedom songs. So in this poem, I wanted to celebrate falling in love against the background of what was happening in the South in the 60s and what had brought each of us to Greensboro. Shared values, a sense of injustice that some citizens of our country were denied the right to vote, a shared vision of how we wanted our country to be.

[08:54]

Our passion for justice was part of what Nora and I loved in one another, and also how that experience just happened through the body. And I think giving in to love is a way of cherishing life, the first precept. Marcelo told me that Daniel Guerin, a French writer, said, love is a political act. a private act with public echoes. And I think love can have a powerful impact on many, it's had a powerful impact in our time on some legislation, for example, as in gay marriage and changing some of the laws around gay, gay and lesbian and trans couples being able to adopt children.

[10:01]

So meeting that day in 1963 with the young Freedom School singers, the labor organizers, the African Americans, the Jews, we were united in that march. And it was a day I've never forgotten. So I returned after that march. It was the summer before my last year at UC Berkeley, and I came back for my senior year, and Nora went back to Antioch College where she was studying. And then the next summer we spent together, and then in the fall I moved to Boston and got a job at Mass Mental Health Center, which was a psychiatric hospital, as a research assistant working in the outpatient clinic. Nora and I were living together. And in my job, I got to see the DSM, which is the standard classification of mental illnesses used by the mental health profession.

[11:14]

And there was a category called character disorder homosexual. When I saw that... I got very upset because it implied there was something wrong with our relationship or with me and with Nora, which it didn't feel that way. The relationship didn't feel that way, but that was a strong message that I was given. Years later, a group of gay psychiatrists... pressured the American Psychiatric Association to remove that diagnosis. So it's no longer there, but it did a lot of damage. And so I want to just say that there are many ways that we kill or harm that are not literally about taking life. Sometimes when we think of that precept, we think about abortion or euthanasia or not killing animals.

[12:18]

But we can kill... in many other ways, by not listening or half-listening, by listening while we're thinking about what we're going to respond so we're not fully present for someone. We kill by prejudging others. A student described this as staying trapped in my own ideas of what I or someone else can be or do. So sometimes we... have an idea of what someone can be or do or not be or not do. And that influences how we interact with that person. And in a way, it's a way of not cherishing the life of that person or not being able to meet that person in a fresh, open way. And we may kill through things that we do or say things that are experienced as harmful, even if we don't intend them that way.

[13:21]

And then we kill when we create laws and institutions that don't treat people with respect. One of my favorite books on the precepts is by Diane Roseto, Waking Up to What We Do. And she says, if we are to know the mind of not killing... We must first crack open our opinions and prejudices and chance the unknown to meet people in a fresh way. At the time when I lived with Nora, which was 1964, we didn't know any other lesbian couples. We were happy together, but we were isolated. We didn't know of any spaces in which we could be open about our relationship and feel accepted, much less celebrated. we were faced with a diagnosis that implied there was something wrong with us, with our love. And I just want to say how much has changed since that time and how far we've come.

[14:26]

In terms of sexual orientation and gender, the spectrum has become so much wider. When I first came out, people talked about people being gay and then lesbian and gay and then lesbian, gay, and bisexual, then lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender. And now we're reclaiming words like queer and dyke and finding new words like cisgender, which means identifying with the gender in which you were born. So I'm a cisgender woman. I was... born female, and I identify as a woman. That was a word that I never heard until some years ago. We have wider concepts of gender, like gender variant, all gender loving, and a greater acceptance of people and all

[15:41]

all parts of that spectrum has grown. San Francisco Zen Center's Queer Dharma Group began in 2010, and East Bay Meditation Center has an alphabet sangha that's probably been going as long. It meets once a week. A number of other Buddhist groups have, there's Gay Buddhist Fellowship, and there's a Monday evening group, that meets in the mission. So there are places where people who identify as queer in some part of that spectrum can come together. And for some of us, that is a dharmagate. It's a way of entering practice or entering Zen center. And now we can legally marry, have children, adopt children, although there are still many stereotypes of the ideal family as being a heterosexual couple with children.

[16:48]

I wanted to share a New York Times article that I found very moving. It's called 38 Days That Made Us Dads. It was written by someone named Corvette Hunt. and it was an op-ed. I'm going to read a little bit of it and summarize some of it. Where's the mother? This is a question I'm often asked when I'm out with my son. I'm a gay dad, a New York gay dad with tattoos and pink hair. Around the world, in markets, restaurants, and airports, strangers see our unconventional family. and ask us about the seemingly missing mom. This question, although understandable, used to infuriate me. It keeps coming, though, so I decided to search for a perfect reply.

[17:51]

It took me back to the beginning of my son's life. It was the phone call. A young woman in an old factory town in Pennsylvania had read our profile, approved of our tattoos, and was certain we were the right parents, for the seven-month-old human growing in her womb. We set a date for us all to meet, but just two days before we were going to get together, my husband got another phone call. The mom-to-be was bleeding and in a car on her way to the hospital. So the baby was delivered by cesarean section two months early, and the two prospective dads drove through a blizzard. to get to the hospital. And in the neonatal intensive care unit, they saw this baby in a plexiglass case with tubes and wires.

[18:51]

And this is their description. We walked over to the case. I felt that gripping sensation when you need to sob but hold it in. A nurse in pink scrubs approached us and smiled. Congratulations, she said. Go wash your hands. My chest felt constricted. Why is he shaking, I asked. The nurse's eyes lit up as she explained. That's a special thing. It's how much he wants to be here. The spasms are the body fighting to survive. We call it life force, cherishing life. And then she said, he needs your help. She told me, you need to wash your hands. Premature infants need their parents to rip off their shirts and hold them to their chest so they can cleave to the human world. This technique regulates the heartbeat, synchronizes the breathing, and should be done, we were told, for hours each day.

[19:54]

So for the next 38 days, they moved to York, Pennsylvania, and held that baby for hours every day. and got to know the mother of the baby. She told them she couldn't hold the baby, because if she did, she might not be able to give up. So at the end of that time, they went back to New York with the baby. And I'll just read the end of the article. We headed home with our son, who was no longer hooked up to life support. His well-being was in our hands. We brought with us a newfound respect, and a profound glimpse into what it takes to be a mother. Our son is now three, and I've discovered that the roles of parenthood don't fall into neat categories. I still get asked, where's the mom? But I've found my answer. The mother's right here, I say.

[20:55]

You might not see her, but she's here. So, I think we... You know, we all may have some outdated ideas about what a family is, or I realize I've had some outdated ideas about gender. And I recently went to a training called Trans 101 that was offered by the Bay Area Coalition of Welcoming Congregations, a synagogue in the neighborhood. The trainer said that gender is not as binary as most people think. Gender identity exists on a continuum. And I used to question the use of gender pronouns in group introductions. I've gone to a number of workshops at the East Bay Meditation Center, and on our name tags we write our name and our pronouns.

[21:56]

So it would be Tova, she, her... And then we began introducing ourselves at Queer Dharma using gender pronouns. And initially some people were very uncomfortable with it. And I realized as a cisgender lesbian, I never questioned that my pronoun was she, her. But that wasn't true for everyone. And by saying our pronouns, it gives space for someone whose pronoun is... they, them, or they, them, or some other pronoun to have that acknowledged and respected in that space. Yeah, so I have learned about the terms gender variant or gender expansive, which I just learned recently. And that sexual orientation... And identity can be fluid and non-binary.

[22:58]

Last fall, we had a Dharma Talk and a day devoted to the Dharma of gender identity with a panel of people who were trans or gender variant. And I felt that was really beneficial for those who were able to attend. And I would like to see more trans and gender variant people coming to Queer Dharma and other programs at San Francisco Zen Center. I think that's a growing edge for our community. So I also wanted to mention about that, that my school, I went to social work school at Smith College School for Social Work in the 60s. And the school is now celebrating its 100th anniversary. And its current newsletter, In Depth, features a story about how trans and gender non-conforming students have changed the school, the field of social work, and the culture at large.

[24:02]

I'm very proud of that school of social work. It's come a long way. When I was a student there, there were lesbians there, I know, but nobody was out. Later there was a lesbian dean, and there are many students there now who are at all, who are LGBTIQ, et cetera, and the school celebrates them. So some of the hardships and challenges that... we face not only those of us who are LGBT, but people from many different, maybe called traditionally marginalized groups. Some of the challenges can make us stronger individually and together. And I wanted to share a part of Jane Hirschfield's poem, For What Binds Us, because it talks about

[25:11]

how scars can be seen as signs of strength. She writes, and see how the flesh grows back across a wound with a great vehemence, more strong than the simple, untested surface before. There's a name for it on horses when it comes back darker and raised. proud flesh, as all flesh is proud of its wounds. And when two people have loved each other, see how it is like a scar between their bodies, stronger, darker, and proud. How the black cord makes of them a single fabric that nothing can tear or mend. I love this poem partly because it's such a reclaiming of the word proud or pride. I do appreciate humility and the quality of humility that we practice with as students, and sometimes pride is thought of as negative, but it can be very important to find pride in ourselves when we have...

[26:40]

internalize some of the messages from our society that are negative. And as she said, proud flesh can be a symbol of a struggle or something difficult that's happened that has healed and is stronger than it was before. So we can support life by words, actions, and creating spaces that lead to people feeling heard and seen, valued and respected. And can we heal? So sometimes it is possible to heal ruptures in relationships. I just want to say that even though Nora and I broke up after that fall, we later reconnected and have stayed in touch and that relationship First love has been an important part of my life, even though we didn't stay together very long.

[27:49]

But how do we heal ruptures in Sangha's communities and in our country? Larry Yang, a gay Buddhist teacher of color, he's Chinese-American, gave a wonderful talk and workshop here, this... and celebrated his book, Awakening Together, the Spiritual Practice of Inclusivity and Community. And he talks about, instead of breaking apart when we have conflict, can we break together? Can we come together and face those conflicts rather than feeling we have to avoid them or we have to avoid someone we're in conflict with? And just... like to read a few of his words. How do we stay in the room and in relationship with each other, regardless of what arises, rather than split apart?

[28:53]

What would it be like, even amid all the complexity, even in the face of injuries, even in the face of harm, to break together rather than break apart? Could we stay together even as we experience our differences and the hurts caused by them? What would it be like to hold our hearts open toward the injuries caused by our seeming adversaries as best we can? How do we stay in the room with each other, stay in relationship with each other, even when the unconscious, reactive mind wants things to be different from the way they are? So I think that it is a challenging idea to break together, to stay together when we have conflicts, misunderstandings, disagreements. And what binds us, what helps us to do that?

[29:56]

And I think one thing can be our shared spiritual practice. I was very moved this week when the Interfaith Council had a gathering Thursday night. It was only 45 minutes. It was outside Grace Cathedral, and they invited pairs of people from different faith traditions to offer prayers or statements. to address the situation happening on the border of the separation of parents and children. A number of people from Zen Center went, and I was one of the two Buddhist speakers. I was paired up with a young lesbian mom whose wife is Mexican, and their baby was there.

[30:56]

And she was Japanese-American and spoke about... She felt so moved by what was happening with the separation of parents and children, not just because of her own experience of being a mother, but also because of her awareness of the Japanese internment that happened during World War II. I offered a part of the Metta Sutta, the loving-kindness meditation, which many of you may know by heart, but I will... love to share just a part of it the part that I read because I think it's a bridge from you know the our practice spiritual lives and our concern about what's happening in the country so and if you know it and want to chant with me please join me let no one deceive another

[32:01]

nor despise any being in any place, in any state. Let none by anger or hatred wish harm to another, even as a mother, at the risk of her life, watches over and protects her only child. So with a boundless mind should we cherish all living things, suffusing love over the entire world. above, below, and all around, without limit. So we could stop there. There's more, but I think that image of the strength of the love of a mother for her child, the cherishing of life, can we bring that spirit into our activities today, this weekend, and throughout the week? There will be a number of demonstrations this week. And then there's also the Pride Parade tomorrow.

[33:04]

And I hope some of you will be able to join us. We'll be marching behind a huge Buddha. And there'll be information on the door about our contingent number. It's also on our website and where to find us. So the other piece that was really beautiful about Thursday evenings gathering people from so many faiths was that in between each of the pairs of speakers, and there were people from the Jewish, Buddhist, Muslim, Baha'i, Hindu, and Christian faiths, it was truly interfaith. In between, the cantor from Temple Emanuel sang and invited us all to sing some verses of the song, We Are a Gentle, Angry People.

[34:08]

And that song I first heard after Harvey Milk and Mayor Moscone were killed. And people gathered... people marched from the Castro to City Hall. A lot of people were very angry. And that song, which starts out, we are a gentle, angry people, ends with, we are a gentle, loving people. So I would love to sing it with you, if you're willing. And I thought we would just do a few verses, starting with, we are a gentle, angry people. We are gentle, angry people. And we are singing, singing for our lives.

[35:09]

We are gentle, angry people. I think it needs to go up a little bit. Yeah, let's start over here. We are gentle, angry people. And we are singing, singing for us. We are gentle, angry people. And we are singing, singing for old and young together. We are old and young together and we are singing, singing for our lives. We are old and young together and we are singing, singing for our lives.

[36:20]

We are a land of many colors. We are a land of many colors. And we are singing, singing for our wives. We are a land of many colors. And we are singing, singing for our lives. We are gentle, loving people. We are gentle, loving people. And we are singing, singing for our lives. We are gentle, loving people. Thank you for singing and for chanting the loving-kindness meditation.

[37:37]

So I hope that we can leave here today encouraged and inspired to be our best selves, to be gentle and loving with one another, and to express some of our concern and caring and anger about what's happening in the world in ways that are fruitful. There are many ways to do that. And I'm just grateful for all of you for being here this morning and wish you really happy pride, however you understand it and express it. Thank you very much. For more information, visit sfcc.org and click Giving.

[38:39]

May we fully enjoy the Dharma.

[38:42]

@Transcribed_UNK
@Text_v005
@Score_97.16