Scripted vulnerability

Everything bad that happens to you doesn’t have to be a teachable moment. 

It’s probably a product of the boom in confessional journalism and its Christian equivalent, the storytelling boom. We’re all storytellers now and perhaps we’ve internalised the idea that every significant event in our lives must be presented as a carefully-structured essay, a sermon of sorts, or like so many sermons a list of points that speak of the learning and practical application that have come out of our pain. 

We hold off writing about things, not simply until we’ve got our thoughts on the subject organised, but also until we’ve got a structured message, some clear takeaways for our readers and an opportunity to be inspirational - perhaps with a few key ‘shareables’ highlighted specifically for that purpose. 

This week a friend shared a lengthy update on social media, informing people of the tough year they’ve been having and being thankful that things have turned out ok, even though they still have a lot to work through. As people commented with love and support, expressing admiration for how open and ‘real’ my friend had been, it struck me that much of the post's perceived ‘realness’ lay in the fact it didn’t follow what I’m now recognising as the script we, as Christians, often follow (consciously, unconsciously, who knows?) when reflecting on difficult times. 

We describe the difficulties and pain; we bring the focus back to God; we give thanks and count our blessings; we move into reflecting on any positives that have come out of the situation and our lessons learned. We can hit ‘publish’ safe in the knowledge that we’ve followed the approved framework for dealing with life’s knocks and that people will like it. 

Don’t misunderstand me: this ‘script’ isn’t wrong. It’s helpful sometimes and yes, it can be inspirational. It’s quite natural for many people and in many circumstances - but sometimes it’s hard to get there. Sometimes it feels like we’re never going to get there at all. Our feelings aren’t so neatly organised and I wonder if we’ve perhaps lost something in shying away from sharing the messiness of our thought processes, preferring instead, by the time we’re ready to share on our blogs or on Facebook, to tie it all up neatly into a set of inspirational learning points that make us seem like real writers, or teachers, or ‘thought leaders’. Or at least the right sort of Christian. 

We should be able to write about our struggles - if we want to - without waiting for the perfect time to share, when our attitudes are right and we can say all the ‘right’ things. We should understand that praising people and telling them how inspirational they are when they describe their pain using the ‘right’ narrative isn’t always helpful. We pick up on what we see and keep quiet accordingly when our emotions and thoughts and questions don’t follow the approved script because we worry what people might think. Our thoughts aren’t for everyone to see unless they’re ordered correctly. That's something I've been guilty of in recent times, my head a swirling mess of half written essays not considered well-formed enough to be shared because there's no teachable moment for you, or because things are still difficult, or because I can't look at them objectively and give you some life application fat to chew on.

Everything bad that happens to you doesn’t have to be a teachable moment. When being ‘real’ becomes scripted, it doesn’t seem so authentic any more. We can share our truths without completing a checklist of themes and words. And the difference will show, as it did for me this week when I read my friend's Facebook post and as it does always when I think about the stories that have stayed with me the most.

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2014: A recap on those resolutions

Happy New Year! At the beginning of 2014 I overhauled the look and feel of this blog, and resolved to be a bit 'better' at posting. Last year, I managed a whole 12 posts. I didn't write about nearly as many of the things I would have loved to write about, and I felt as if I missed the boat on many other things due to just having too much on. But I was proud of what I did manage to produce. However, I'd made some other resolutions for 2014 as well, and I wanted to chronicle how I got on with them.

Be hospitable (and a good friend)

If you're a Christian you get to hear a lot about being hospitable. Christians just love people who are good at hospitality. They are everyone's favourite. They are the people at church that everyone just adores. We're told that it's a special gift that some people have, but we're also told how hospitality has been a key aspect of the church since ancient times. So, you know, we've got to do it. When you're an introverted couple with a non-sleeping baby and living in a flat it's not all that easy. Plus I was convinced I hadn't been at the front of the queue when the gift of hospitality was bestowed on God's people.

Everyone knows a woman (or women - and it is always women), who's a pro at sorting out a buffet or doing the refreshments for everyone. She's good at bustling round a kitchen. And when there's some sort of party, several of these women will just get everything done. They just get on in there and bustle. Now there's a very important conversation to be had here about gender and why, exactly, it's women who are the ones that do this, but my point here is that I never got this gene. When everyone with ovaries starts doing that bustling around thing and being hospitality pros, I ask if there's anything I can do. And invariably, there isn't much I can do. So I get a drink, and feel slightly guilty.

In 2014, a few things changed. We became an introverted couple, with a toddler who finally slept at night, living in a decent-sized house. Having been really rubbish at socialising for well over a year, and having moved to the periphery of church (more on this later), I really wanted to get better at hospitality. And you know what? It's still hard, but it's been working. We like cooking, and people appreciate that. We're really trying to open up our home a bit more - subject to everyone else's busy lives as well as our own, so it doesn't happen all the time, but I hope we can build on this in 2015.

Sort out The Church Thing

On 2 January 2014 I gave myself a bit of a talking-to and decided I was going to attempt to move forward on my long-running struggle with church. The year, in this respect, was full of ups and downs. I read things like A Churchless Faith and read a lot of blog posts by post-evangelicals and disaffected people and people seeking authenticity. In the process I think I learnt a lot about myself. When we say we're seeking authenticity, are we merely seeking more people like us? And what happens when you're reminded that creating communities of people like us is, really, pretty exclusionary? If those who ask questions are currently the people of the moment, surely, at some point, some answers would be helpful? Or at least, some ways to move forward. And if we have issues that we need to discuss, it's always better to discuss them rather than simmer over them and expect people to understand why we're upset, when we haven't actually told them in the first place (what do you mean, people aren't mind-readers?).

Through the spring and summer, following the (extremely disheartening) disbanding of the midweek group we were attending, I was dipping in and out of visiting a couple of other churches. But when I thought about it, I just didn't feel led to make the move anywhere else. I was feeling as if I was going to become a 'done'. What ended up happening was that we discussed it and decided we needed a fresh challenge that would help us get more involved and enable us to build community again. This challenge came to us in the form of an opportunity to become the new leaders of a midweek group, and at the moment it's going really well. I still have a long way to go when it comes to Sundays, but at least one thing has changed and one thing has made a difference.

A new resolution for Twitter

I got really disillusioned with Twitter and internet activism in 2013 - more specifically, the way that a community I had once loved seemed to become primarily about performative 'call-outs' as activism, the monstering of women trying to make a difference because they haven't yet managed to focus on or solved all the world's problems, and the readiness of people to brand others  as 'vile' and 'disgusting' over things that may not have happened and may never have been said. In 2014 I pledged to do what I could to support people, signal-boost good things and be encouraging instead. I didn't entirely do away with having a bit of a rant on occasion, however (one friend I met for the first time in 2014 mentioned my 'controlled rants'!). This also meant getting rid of a lot of negative and unhelpful voices from my timeline - and in return a lot of people did away with me, often for something as simple as being seen talking to particular people or sharing their writing, which pretty much proves my point about the way things have gone.

I'll be carrying my 2014 Twitter resolution over into 2015 and keeping up with some of the wonderful people I've been talking to and getting to know over the past year. In 2014 I had the opportunity to meet some longtime Twitter friends for the first time (quite a few of these at Greenbelt).

Get fit again

I used to run half marathons, remember? The guilt of my paid-for and unused gym membership motivated me to get back to working out last year. For a time. It was all going so well - and then a particularly busy period at work happened, and my lunchtime trips to the sports centre tailed off (although I've continued to do plenty of walking). Like nearly everyone else this month, however, I'm hoping to get back into exercise for the new year.

Be kind

I didn't always manage it, particularly in the first few months of the year, but in 2014 I've been working on being a lot kinder to myself. This has involved a few different things:

- Identifying some avoidable causes of feeling anxious and/or miserable, and trying to avoid thought patterns that exacerbate these. This has had mixed success but is really getting better
- Trying to ignore impostor syndrome whenever it rears its ugly head
- Acknowledging that I do need - and deserve - downtime - and not beating myself up for failing to achieve things 24/7
- Do the little things: use the nice skincare every day rather than sporadically!

I've also been working on extending the kindness through reaching out to support friends and family. 2014 was a tough year for my extended family as both my maternal grandparents passed away (in September 2013 and January 2014), so we've been particularly trying to spend quality time with my mum.

Say yes

At the beginning of 2014 I started to become involved in more talks and get-togethers about the gender imbalance of speaker line-ups at Christian conferences, following this bit of research by my good friend and partner in crime Natalie, and the many discussions it prompted. One of the main barriers to women being more visible as speakers, as 'experts', is that we're much more likely than men to say 'no' to opportunities put our way. Sometimes that's down to a lack of confidence or impostor syndrome; sometimes it's due to responsibilities like caring for children. I was so encouraged that some organisations were really willing to talk about all this and discuss how they could make changes, and I'm really excited that out of all these discussions, Project 3:28 - a new initiative for 2015 - was born.

I knew that in 2014 I had to get better at saying 'yes' to opportunities too. And so I did some exciting things:

- I did another talk at Greenbelt (and helped organise a Christian Feminist Network worship session; and exhibited for my day job there too)
- I wrote a feature on Christianity and feminist activism for Christianity magazine
- I wrote for the New Statesman's series on second wave feminism, discussing Susan Brownmiller's In Our Time and the lessons the movement today can learn from it (particularly pertinent to my 'new resolution for Twitter above). The series generated a lot of controversy, but was also well-received by a lot of people
- I presented on 'Hashtag activism' at the Christian New Media Conference
- And I also got approached about writing a book. This was incredibly exciting, and I did a lot of thinking, praying and planning as a result. Over the summer, however, I had to concede that while writing a book would be amazing, it's not something I can commit to right now - my life is really busy already and I just don't have the spare time needed

However, the past year has really underlined for me the importance of keeping the right perspective as I 'say yes' to things, not becoming too invested in profile and self-promotion at the expense of authenticity and relationships. Unfortunately I've seen this happen to people, and I know how much hurt and disillusionment it can cause.

For 2015, I've decided to carry over all of these resolutions and build on last year's efforts, with one new addition: read more. I have a stack of new books following Christmas, and lots of things I want to learn about too.

Before I go, some mentions for the blogs I kept on reading in 2014 despite a distinct lack of free time: Glosswatch;  A Room of Our Own; Sarah Ditum; C. Jane Kendrick; Dianna E. Anderson; Messy Nessy Chic; Littlee and Bean; Lulastic and the Hippyshake; Sian and Crooked Rib; Mummy Says...

The problem with ideological purity

If you've ever been part of one of those conversations where someone's having a bit of a moan about their church, you know you can always count on someone to chime in saying "There's no such thing as the perfect church!". Clichéd as that phrase has become, it's true, and it's a constant reminder that when we go looking for perfection in this life, we're not going to find it. There's no such thing as the perfect church, the perfect marriage, the perfect job. And there's certainly no such thing as the perfect person. Most people know this, and recently it's become a bit of a "thing" to be open about all our flaws, admitting to our brokenness and just how "messed up" we are as a way of showing vulnerability and assuring others that no-one ever has it all figured out (so much so, in fact, that it's already been identified as a problematic Christian trend by people with too much time on their hands).

You know how it goes. "Hi, I'm Hannah, a sinner like everyone else. I'm a champion procrastinator. I struggle with depression. When I'm tired I crave junk food. My relationship with church is none too good at the moment. I didn't start blogging to glorify God; I did it because I knew it could help get me a more interesting job. Sometimes when my toddler is being a pain in the backside I get angry with him. My 'lightbulb moment', when I realised I was a feminist (aged 19), didn't involve any intersectional analysis. None at all! But every day I'm learning; as time goes by I'm evolving as a person. SEE - I'M JUST LIKE YOU."

It seems, however, that it's pretty hard to be vulnerable and admit mistakes when it comes to activism. It's another progressive cliché, the idea that you 'just need to be constantly learning and growing and ready to admit you messed up', an idea that's become more about performance of learning and a pretence of listening when it often seems like not very much of either ever really happens. You can be vulnerable and imperfect - as long as you stress just how much it's shown you the error of your ways. For many in the social justice world, what's prized more than anything is ideological purity - described by some as 'purity leftism'. A so-called commitment to 'learning and growing' that actually struggles to deal with differences of opinion from within the same activist sphere, that struggles to support any cause or campaign because it will never be perfect and supported only by those who display completely "correct" ways of thinking and being. It's 'me, me, me' activism.

This obsession with ideological purity leads to two things. Firstly, there's silencing - a fear of being denounced, leading to people shutting up, stepping back, and quietly going about their business so as not to be noticed or accused of wrongdoing when they're just trying to muddle along and make a difference in the world. Secondly, it stops activism from involving any action whatsoever. Why run or join a campaign when people who don't see eye to eye with you on everything might get involved? Why go to an event if one of the speakers once tweeted something you didn't like? Why express support for someone who's going through a bad time when 20 years ago, they wrote something that you don't agree with (learning and growing, apparently, is only for the chosen few)? Why do anything except sneer at those in public office and mainstream media and positions of authority who are to all intents and purposes on your side because they're all 'part of the system'? Principles about things become more important than actually doing them.

When I think about the feminist and egalitarian women that I admire the most, some of whom I'm friends with, some of whom I've never met and probably never will, they have one thing in common. They know that attempting total ideological purity is ridiculous, and that waiting around for perfect situations is pointless. They know that what works is women living as best they can in this world, being the change they want to see and getting their hands dirty in the process, messing up and having to apologise, having uncomfortable realisations and having to love all and serve all as they do so. 

They're in the media and in politics and the church, working tirelessly to mentor younger women and get more women a space on the platform and a seat at the table, even when the table isn't perfect, because they believe in effecting change from within. They're from different backgrounds with varying amounts of privilege. They're helping survivors, fighting injustice, writing, calling meetings and putting their heads above parapets, all the time using words of encouragement and building up and celebrating success - and doing what they have to do to provide for themselves and their families. They'll offer critique when it's constructive and point out the problematic when they've got a solution. And they know that vulnerability, honesty, and love will always achieve more than attempting ideological purity at the expense of anything resembling real change.

If we want to 'be' any sort of change, we need to be willing to get stuck in - whatever that means for us personally. Creating change is hard, and I'm thankful for everyone who gives so much of themselves to make it happen. We need to be willing to do more than criticise and snipe from on high, congratulating ourselves for not doing anything because that would mean compromising impossibly high standards and associating with people who don't share all of our opinions. If we don't, we risk becoming like religious fundamentalists - concerned only with our self-righteousness and superiority compared to others who are part of the very same belief system, our brothers and sisters.

2013: A recap and a new look

2013 was an odd year. It flew by. I was extremely busy, but in some ways I feel as if I spent a lot of time procrastinating rather than doing. Here are some highlights and thoughts:

- I returned to full time work outside the home in February. I was definitely ready for this to happen and love my job, but full time work plus parenting means I don't have as much time for a lot of other things - blogging for one, hence the tumbleweeds on here (although I did write some posts that I was really happy with). Sebastian spends his days with a great childminder and is getting on brilliantly. He's well and truly into the toddler stage (which is infinitely more fun and rewarding than the baby stage, even taking tantrums into consideration) and keeps us constantly busy. It took him 16 months, but he's also now sleeping through the night, which is amazing.

- I attended Million Women Rise with Christian Feminist Network pals in March.

- I achieved my breastfeeding goal (and then some). Go boobs! I was thankful to be able to continue feeding after my return to work and am thankful to have had such a positive experience.

- I survived my first family holiday (in France; we drove to the south-west coast with a 13-month-old Sebastian) and had a wonderful couple of weeks there.

- I had a great time speaking at Greenbelt and attending the festival for the very first time - you can now watch the video. Tasked to speak on the topic 'When I'm 40...', I realised that 40 is not as far away as I think.

- I took part in a panel discussion on blogging at the Christian New Media Conference.

- I did a lot of thinking about the Christian feminist world, and worried that all too often it ends up shutting itself off from the wider movement. This works both ways - there will always be a need to advocate for greater inclusion of women of faith in feminism - but I think we need to be careful that we don't end up going round in circles repeatedly justifying why we believe in gender equality, or why we believe other people should do the same. I've done that many a time and I fully agree with the woman I heard speak at Greenbelt that I no longer "feel the need to prove I have a right to an opinion and a voice", which includes making anything I have to say 'palatable' to appear more appealing to those who don't believe in equality. We need to move the conversation on - that's why I'm so grateful for the Gathering of Women Leaders, which does just that.

- I continued to find church, and building community within the church, an enormous struggle, although we did make some great new friends this year. There isn't really much else I want to say about this, to be honest. I did, however, read this post yesterday, and was able to relate to it in some ways. And time and again, I return to this post on '(not so) happy clappies'.

- I started the year off by writing about Evil Twitter Feminists, and continued the conversation in the summer with Evil Twitter Feminism 2.0. For the past month or so, I have barely even engaged with any discussion about feminism on Twitter. What was, at the beginning of the year, somewhat mythical, has become very real and very unpleasant, a situation where many people no longer feel able to speak about a whole variety of topics publicly. My feminist 2014 is going to be about building up, celebrating positives and victories, sitting back and listening and learning, building bridges and demonstrating a better way. If you can't get on board with these things, then I worry what you actually do stand for.

- A combination of being busy with work and parenting plus the above point on Twitter has meant I've really shut off from keeping up with blogs and even news over the past few months. This has made writing difficult and it's something I've really struggled with. I miss blogging, but I've felt completely stymied by some things that have happened in recent months. Blogging has changed. In 2014, I'm hoping things will change and that I'll be writing more again. One thing I wanted to do in 2013 but never achieved was revamping how this blog looks - so I finally got that done this past week. I'm now slowly working on getting every post formatted correctly.

- I bought these shoes and this was a really good idea. They're getting me through the winter and haven't made my feet sore once.

#notblinkered: rebranding pro-life

The past few weeks have seen a resurgence in discussions about whether or not we need to rebrand feminism - this time, thanks to Elle magazine and some competition in the USA. No-one loves a rebranding discussion. I imagine memoirs of the feminist movement in decades to come:

It is generally accepted that the downfall of patriarchy began with one key turning point in 2013: a corporate advertising campaign. The men saw that gender equality was unthreatening and compatible with body hair removal. And so began the end of misogyny.

Feminism, however, isn't the only movement that's currently toying with a rebrand. The pro-life organisation Life has launched a social media campaign, #notblinkered.

“Do you have a stereotype of someone who's 'prolife'? White? Middle aged? Middle class? Right wing? Religious? Anti-women's rights? Blinkered?”

Life have correctly identified that this is exactly the stereotype that people have of those who are anti-abortion. It's one that isn't exactly challenged by the sort of people who picket clinics and the sort of politicians who support them. The campaign's aim is to “challenge the stereotypes associated with prolifers” and prove that they're 'not blinkered' about the issues surrounding abortion, while acknowledging “the damage abortion has done to women, children, families and society as a whole”. So far, it features interviews with a feminist, an atheist and a socialist.

Despite writing about abortion rights on numerous occasions in the past and strongly identifying as pro-choice, I've grown weary of the way the debates on the subject nearly always pan out. I believe that both 'sides' can be incredibly blinkered and that the abortion debate consistently lacks nuance and consideration of surrounding issues. I don't find it helpful that anyone claiming the label 'pro-life' is liable to be branded a 'woman hater' by pro-choice activists. I don't find it helpful that pro-life activists harass women outside clinics and feel it's acceptable to give out misleading information about pregnancy and abortion. And I feel the label 'pro-life' has ceased to be helpful at all because people use it to mean so many different things.

Very often, at the merest mention of someone being 'pro-life', people will jump to the conclusion that they believe abortion should be illegal, or at least that they believe in various pieces of restrictive legislation that will slowly make abortion illegal except in exceptional circumstances. I know this is not always the case.

What's interesting is that none of the 'stories' featured on the #notblinkered blog discuss legislation. What these pro-lifers believe about whether or not abortion should be legal, what their opinions are about an upper time limit, what they believe about medical abortions or social abortions or extreme circumstances isn't apparent. And I get that this isn't the point of the campaign. The point of the campaign is to get us to consider the whole picture, the grey areas. What of the women who feel pressured into having an abortion by their partner or family? What is 'choice' when you're so constrained by your financial situation that you can't continue with a pregnancy?

But many pro-choice advocates have been left unimpressed by #notblinkered. They see this 'challenging of stereotypes' as a gimmick to try to make us believe pro-lifers are harmless. That their beliefs don't see thousands of women die each year from unsafe abortions and endanger many lives. And this is why the pro-life movement might lead a few more people to look favourably upon them by launching #notblinkered, but why it could also do much, much more by suggesting - and becoming known for working on - ethical and effective solutions that are pro-minimisation of abortion:

1. Challenging the government on measures that have plunged more people into poverty and desperate situations – especially women.

2. Supporting comprehensive sex education that makes sure young people are well-educated about the mechanics of sex and conception but also about healthy and unhealthy relationships, and avoiding risky sexual behaviour. It's well known that the anti-abortion organisation SPUC are extremely opposed to sex education and view it as "damaging". Life doesn't hold an enormously positive view of current sex and relationships education (who does?), but I do feel there needs to be more of a consensus on what good SRE actually looks like. I'm not so sure that both camps could ever achieve this, but why not explore it?

3. Providing ethical, unbiased, and accurate counselling (we know Life have been challenged about this following a 2011 investigation – I truly hope that they have reviewed their training, materials and procedures since). There is no excuse for promoting untruths about pregnancy and abortion, whatever your stance on the issue.

4. Providing support to women in crisis situations who may need financial help or somewhere to live. I am aware that Life already does this. Pro-choice campaigners see this as being of key importance too - there is common ground. The real crisis here is the state of women's services due to cuts.

5. Challenging the negative and derogatory stereotypes that persist whenever conversations about abortion in Britain today take place - 'using abortion as contraception'; 'social abortions' (as if these are carried out for exclusively 'trivial' and 'frivolous' reasons); 'abortion as a lifestyle choice'. A common accusation thrown at the pro-life movement is that it cares more about policing women's sexual activity than it does about the lives of babies and children. It has to move away from judgemental attitudes.

6. If there is really no compulsion to 'turn back the clock' on women's rights, finding common ground with the pro-choice movement and working together on pro-minimisation initiatives rather than seeking reactionary changes in legislation without having looked into other measures first, and without considering the whole picture.

I'm not making these suggestions simply because I think the pro-life movement needs to make itself more palatable to its detractors. I'm making them because I believe that if you truly value life you must address the factors that contribute towards women having abortions, and see what can be changed. Many of these issues are important to pro-choicers too, and it is in this overlap that we should be able to understand each other a bit more and see what might emerge.

Post-Greenbelt thoughts on faith, theology and all that's really deep (ahem)

This afternoon I read this post about Greenbelt, written by Jonty Langley, that really resonated with me. The enormous struggle that church has been for me since becoming a mother; a lot of the things I've been trying to thrash out, in my own head, with very little success - this past weekend helped me to start making sense of some of them. I was overwhelmed by the programme as well as the number of friends I wanted to catch up with, and only made it to a couple of sessions each day - but the experiences and conversations I had last weekend came at the right time and are of enormous value to me. From the thought-provoking and incredibly intelligent panel discussion "What women (in the church) want", to Jim Wallis speaking on working for the common good, to a conversation about intergenerational feminism and learning from each other without hostility, to another one about meaningful church community - and then there was communion: emotional, life-affirming, and celebratory.

Last week I wondered, on Twitter (obviously), whether I should write a blog post about faith, church, theological discussion, and "feelings". For at least a year now I've had this obsession that I need to engage with theology at a deeper level. If I wasn't a full-time parent with a full-time-job, this would probably be much easier. I'd buy lots of books, and I'd read them. Part of it's due to the fact that I don't like having vague ideas about things; I like to know a subject well. I don't want to accept one version of events without coming to conclusions about it by finding about about several other versions of said events as well.

Some years ago, I stumbled across numerous articles about a controversial debate on penal substitutionary atonement that was causing a stir in the British evangelical community. At the time I was not aware that there was a debate about penal substitutionary atonement. But I needed to know what was going on and why. It horrified me that in my years as a Christian, there was so much stuff that had never been made clear to me. I remember seeing people defend subordinationism in never-resolved comment threads then seeing many, many more people brush it off as heretical. In the years since, I've managed to become more knowledgeable about a lot of issues. But I see myself at the beginning of a long journey of coming to my own conclusions in that respect. One that I barely have the time and energy for at present.

But when I wondered, last week, whether or not I should blog about all this I felt conflicted - about whether a desire for more knowledge in that respect would only lead to me becoming the sort of person I was feeling incredibly fed up with on that day in particular. I'd just seen yet another ridiculous post using snippets of things a well-known writer has said to "prove" that they are not a real evangelical, not really, so we shouldn't listen to anything they say. I was so sick of seeing people engaging in theological one-upmanship, demanding that others "prove" why they believe something is true and throwing their proof-texts, their texts of terror like so many smug little darts while on at another end of the spectrum, others try to out-theologize one another by wielding flowery prose and "stories" like a weapon.

It took a few of these excellent conversations at Greenbelt last weekend to see things in a new light. Marika Rose saying "I don't feel the need to prove that I have a right to an opinion and a voice". A very wise woman talking to me about theology and expertise. Discussing the people we are online with another equally wise woman. I know that knowing about things, and having made peace with how you feel about things, doesn't have to mean all of the mess of proving this and proving that and telling everyone else that they're wrong and dictating who they should believe and who they should listen to. But at the same time I can't step back and decide it's best not to know and best to just focus on all the positives and the surface emotions because thinking too much will only make me unhappy and we know where that leads, because that's not how I work. If there's one thing the past year or so has shown me, it's that if we're going to talk in terms of Fowler's Stages of Faith, I'm firmly in Stage 4.

As with everything faith-related and crisis-themed, I hesitated about writing this. But my experiences at the weekend made me realise that I needed to get one with processing it and dealing with it in my own way. So before I came home, I went to the Books tent. And I realised that whatever conclusions I come to and whatever knowledge I gain, I don't have it in me to become a thrower of proof-texty darts or a wielder of flowery prose.

Finally, just so you know and for anyone who'd like to recall:

I was beyond excited to spend the weekend at the festival as part of the Threads collective, one of ten contributors speaking on the topic of "When I'm 40, I hope...".

My talk was entitled "When I'm 40, I hope I'm not a brand", and reflected the fact that at the time I pitched my idea to the festival organisers, discussions among my friends about blogging, having an online presence, integrity and sincerity were giving me a lot of food for thought, adding to feelings I'd been having ever since I gave birth and stepped back from blogging somewhat.

I wanted to highlight the values I hope I can maintain a commitment to in future: authenticity, passion, right motives, and not building profile and presence out of a sense of competitiveness.

Authenticity: A Christian buzzword that often feels a bit overdone and meaningless now. But one we can all aspire to because we know too well that when it's lacking, we're turned off writers and bloggers. Real voice over personal brand.

Passion: A real interest in what I'm writing about rather than a few half-baked ideas that I'm turning into a post because I feel I need to add my voice to a debate. Quality over quantity. Not writing for the sake of it.

Right motives: I've questioned my own a lot over the past year. At one point I wondered whether I should continue blogging at all. As Christians we're often made to feel that everything we do should be about God first and foremost - to the point that we brush off praise or pretend it doesn't make us feel happy. Having the right motives doesn't mean we can't feel pleased when we succeed in something we're gifted to do or that we should stop doing something we have a gift for because we're worried about the praise we're receiving as a result.

No more competitiveness: The digital world has, for me, been a place to find true community, real friends, become involved in grassroots activism and understand perspectives different to my own. Being collaborative is a joy. Encouraging community is too. There's no need to get involved in obsessing over rankings and who's got a book deal and who's writing in a certain style to 'make it' into the 'in-crowd'.

I also wanted to highlight the pitfalls of becoming a brand - not being able to or feeling able to adapt your voice when what's needed for a certain topic, is, for example, "serious" rather than "flippant". This has been a key feature of certain recent online arguments involving high profile writers. Then there's the prioritisation of controversy and hits over integrity and truth - I illustrated this point by talking about the downfall of Hugo Schwyzer and the criticism of mainstream websites that hosted his writing.

Finally, I spoke about the way in which the internet can mean we fail to look through a person's 'brand' and see the human being underneath, drawing on Rachel Held Evans's excellent post (linked below). None of us are immune to this, I admit I've done it on many occasions - but it's something we all need to pull ourselves up on from time to time.

Some posts I quoted, and posts/comment threads that inspired my talk:

Danielle Vermeer - When I'm done playing the blogging game & An update on quitting the blogging game

Danny Webster - Liking likes, revering retweets, and passionate about pageviews

Rachel Held Evans - You don't hate me. You hate my brand. & I don't write for an audience of One

Sarah Bessey - In which I think I'm losing my blogging mojo

Evil Twitter Feminism 2.0

Warning: this is a post about Twitter. And blogging. It's really, really meta.

At the beginning of the year I wrote a post imploring people not to let the stereotype of the ‘Evil Twitter Feminist’ put them off being interested in gender equality. I think a lot of people identified with it because the increasing prominence of debates about intersectionality, inclusivity and language were causing people a lot of bother. There was quite a bit of reassessment of the actions and motives of well-known women and writers happening. Things were getting fraught. I hoped that people who felt unsure could see past the drama and continue to find community. I didn’t believe in the Evil Twitter Feminist, this increasingly bandied-about stereotype that was allegedly to blame for why young women wanted nothing to do with it all any more.

Here we all are six months later. I’ve refrained from blogging about any of this for a long time because a) it has all become a bit tedious and b) things have been so fraught, at times, and I don’t want to be the subject of a pile-on. But let’s be honest here, things are a bit of a mess.

Some of these women who were being discussed and having their actions raked over at the beginning of the year – I don’t see their tweets any more. A lot of people have unfollowed them. They don’t retweet them. Mention of their names is met with derision. This is often the start of it. You’ve got to know who’s in and who’s out. You might unwittingly retweet something because you agree with it, and only discover when the pile-on begins that you’ve associated yourself and your beliefs with someone who’s not ‘in’. They might be friends with someone who’s beyond the pale. They might support a campaign that’s really divisive. But you’ve gone there, and you might well have to endure hours of ‘engagement’ from whoever first takes umbrage with you, all their friends, and whatever hangers-on are up for some drama, until no-one even knows what they’re arguing about any more and probably about three people have deleted their accounts, while everyone subtweets everyone else, and people self-impose social media breaks for the good of their mental health.

Much of this centres on campaigns, of which there are at least three high-profile ones associated with feminists happening at present, each one of them a huge source of division. You take a side, and find out immediately who your friends are (or more likely, aren’t). If you don’t want in, you might spot people saying “we don’t want you [in the movement]”. You might spot people asking when you’ve ever set up and run a successful campaign, thank you very much. You might even spot people saying you’re anti-women, as they all tweet each other saying how much they love each other because they agree on stuff. And if you sign up, people will start asking you if you haven’t got more important concerns. What about the recession? What about welfare? What about violence against women? As if you don’t care, which isn’t fair, because you do. You just thought this one petition was a good idea, and let’s be honest, not everyone is super-invested in every single issue (a lot of people who get so angry about so many things fail to be at all bothered, or even slightly intrigued, by campaigns about maternal health and pregnancy-related issues. Just throwing that out there).

There’s always a dominant viewpoint on a subject, even if it’s going against the grain. This means that you struggle to blog about the reasons you support some aspects of a campaign, because what’s ‘in’ is to be totally against it, and you can see why, but at the end of the day, you just don’t agree. And at the end of the day, you don’t want someone tweeting “LOOK AT THIS POST; I AM SO ANGRY!” with a link to your blog, do you?

People have always said that Twitter is full of people going round in circles getting riled about stuff, whipping up Twitterstorms and organising Twittermobs full of fury until the drama dies down and no-one cares any more. That’s not what it’s about. Recent campaigns, and the way that many people have found support, new friends, formed groups, and taken action against things serves to counter that claim. But this year, I’ve seen a move towards these circles among groups that weren’t like that previously. No-resolution argument and massive fall-out, a lot of capital letters and a lot of expletives, until it dies down and people wait to see what’s going to happen next, what’s going to set off the next bust-up. Drama llamas back in the enclosure but sniffing the air expectantly, if you like.

Over the past couple of weeks, things have started to happen. Many people have already distanced themselves from a lot of this. But now others are creating new accounts, unfollowing swathes of people they’d have previously considered their friends, bowing out of certain types of discussion, not bothering to engage. It’s got too much. The tribes, the sniping, the subtweets. The whole set of people we’ve blocked because they think x about y. The voices that consistently go unchallenged because people are too nervous or too jaded to bother. The same issues that have killed off forums with a more precarious existence than Twitter (Livejournal feminism communities, I’m thinking of you). The same issues that have dogged the US online social justice community (Tumblr is renowned for it) for at least a few more years and that used to make me think “Damn, I’m glad I’m from the UK”.

I don’t even know what the solution is. At this point in time, what’s probably needed is for people to take a step back and reassess their priorities. What’s the point? Are you building up or tearing down? Helping people find community or making sure they know they’re not welcome? Criticising constructively or living for the drama? More concerned about being one of the in-crowd than speaking your mind? Celebrating success or making it clear that you couldn’t care less even though you’re broadly down with the same cause?

Come on. Don’t sacrifice debate. Not everyone has to agree about everything. You don’t even have to like everyone. But passionate activists (myself included, even though things are kind of quiet on the activism front at present) are tuning out of the conversation, calling it fatigue, calling it self-care, saying they're done, retreating into smaller communities of friends that feel safe and free from unpleasantness. Alarm bells should be ringing. Are you intent on campaigns being all about the arguments because you're fighting for what little bit of positive media coverage the movement actually gets and want it to best reflect your personal views? I will never say a movement doesn't need or shouldn't have diversity of opinion, but you also need perspective, and we need to learn from the history of the movement when it comes to trashing.

This is not a post that's directed at everyone I know, or an incitement to more fighting. It's a response to what I've seen developing over several months, a call for reflection. It's a post I've hesitated to write because I'm too tired and too busy. I want to say "too disillusioned" but maybe that's too strong - or maybe it isn't. It's not a call to "Pipe down ladies, what WILL people think of us?!" or a call to stop discussing certain issues. It's just my opinion.

But how do we move forward?

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Digital Christianity and "keeping it real"

Throughout the week, Stephanie Drury of Stuff Christian Culture Likes often retweets the best (worst?) of cringeworthy Christianese that she comes across. If you follow her, you know what I'm talking about. There's the date night tweet: "Date night with the hottest hubster on the planet: thank you Lord!". There's the Sunday morning tweet: "So blessed and inspired by the rockin' worship at @ontrendchurch today!!!" I made those up, obviously. But they could easily be real.

As should be the case, many Christians are taking to the digital sphere more than ever to talk about their beliefs, make new friends, and engage with people in different ways. Why? Why does anyone seek online community with people who share their interests and opinions? We learn from each other and help each other to grow. Then there's the other side of things: reaching out. Digital evangelism. "Doing church" online. Or even just living out your faith publicly, in an attempt to show others what being a Christian is like. It's been really interesting to observe and be a part of this - through events like the Christian New Media Conference, or by keeping up with research from CODEC, or reading #DigiDisciple posts over at the BIGBible Project, or reading the work of bloggers like Vicky Beeching, who discusses digital media in many of her posts.

When it comes to church and social media, views are still pretty divided and emotions run high when certain things are discussed. Live-tweeting a sermon or church event, using a phone or tablet to take notes or look up resources during a service? Not a problem as far as I'm concerned, but I came across a post on a forum this week where many people considered that sort of thing to be the height of rudeness and "disrespect". Some months ago, when a post was made on my own church's Facebook page canvassing opinions on livetweeting Sunday mornings, people were either very enthusiastic or completely disapproving. Many Christians make a point of giving up social media, either indefinitely or for a shorter period of time such as Lent. It's often seen as something that's "unhelpful" and detracts from the importance of "real" relationships.

To me, seeing online relationships as "less real" or less "authentic" or "helpful" compared to relationships with people we didn't meet through the internet is outright wrong. I don't really feel I can sugarcoat that. As an introvert, I'm not sure whether I'm more likely to think that, but I'm also someone who has got to know a lot of wonderful people through blogs, message boards and social media. I can't imagine seeing all of that as the enemy, something to be given up or deleted purely for the reason that it might detract from so-called "real" community. I was definitely in agreement with Vicky when she wrote a post earlier this year about why she disagrees with "giving up social media for Lent".

"I feel that the internet is a crucial place to be – a genuine space for community, relationship and mission. Let’s not throw the baby out with the bathwater. Let’s learn discipline and boundaries and become people who can occupy the online space well and healthily," she said.

Occupying the online space well is a key issue here. The digital world doesn't have to be less "authentic" than the offline world. It can, however, take on that feel. People say things online that they wouldn't dare to say to someone's face. They create internet personas through social media and blogging, and it doesn't always go down too well. Some of the people who come in for the most criticism are the bloggers who are viewed as focused on creating an image of perfection, or are considered "fake". We want people to be "real".

One thing I think we should feel challenged about, as Christians who "do" digital media, is keeping it real. I talked about trite Christianese tweets at the beginning of this post because they're now ubiquitous enough to be parodied, and they're an example of people "doing" digital media in an attempt to reach out, or be a good witness, or whatever you want to call it, but failing to keep it real. So your church has encouraged people to get involved in social media as a way of sharing their faith and being positive about Christianity? Get involved. But keep it real. What do I mean?

1) Talk about stuff other than church

Yes. We know you go to church. But you also have a life outside of Sunday mornings, prayer meetings and other church events. Talk about it. If every single tweet, status update or post is related to something that happened at church, how awesome church is and how much you love it...well, great as that is, it gets a bit wearing. Believe it or not, you can have opinions about things without them having been mentioned at church that week. You can, believe it or not, talk about current events, or your hobbies, or even pander to all those people who really hate social media by talking about what you just ate for breakfast.

2) You can admit to having a bad day, or struggling with something

Okay, so it's probably not so good if things go the other way and every single online interaction is a whine. But it won't make you look bad. You don't have to pretend you're relentlessly upbeat and ecstatic about everything. When things aren't going so great, people won't judge you and your faith. Okay, some might do, but you should probably just ignore them. Most people will want to support you. Other people might see that you're going through something, that you're questioning something, and feel more of a connection than with someone who seems to have it all figured out. Don't feel you have to stay "on-message".

3) Interact with people in ways that don't seem like an advertisement

We know you love your church. But you know, moderation is the key here. People don't want to feel like they're being sold something when you live out your faith in front of them. They're consumers, but they're also wary of ploys, of feeling like they're being scammed. We shouldn't reduce Christianity to slick branding (regardless of what you think about "branding" Christianity, which is another can of worms and probably a whole series of posts). Stop feeling like you have to constantly advertise, and build relationships instead. Reply to people. Engage them in conversation about their newest blog post or a news story they've retweeted. Help them out if they have a problem (in a genuine and compassionate way).

4) You can just be you

You: the person you are "in real life". Don't use trite Christianese platitudes "in real life"? Don't do it on the internet. If my next Facebook status or tweet actually said "Date night with the hottest hubster on the planet: thank you Lord!" it might get plenty of "likes". I might also get a couple of confused messages from people wondering why I'd suddenly started using phrases like "hottest hubster on the planet", and whether I'd forgotten to precede said tweet with a SNARK KLAXON. Besides, we don't do a weekly "date night" (I know, I know, disowned by Christian Culture right there, marriage down the pan, etc etc) so my own husband would be pretty confused as well. You don't need an online persona in order to talk about your faith.

5) When it all goes overboard, it can - and will - alienate people

Here is a post on the Her.meneutics blog about the "worst ever Christian clichés". It sums up what I'm trying to say. US Christian culture is worse for this than UK Christian culture, it has to be said (sorry, friends across the pond. Maybe it's got something to do with our complete lack of well-known young preachers). So you can guarantee that plenty of your fellow Christians find it a bit too much. But outside of Christian culture altogether, no-one talks like this, ever. And reaching out to people is about reaching them where they're at, not bombarding them with phrases and terminology that can genuinely sound a bit bizarre if you didn't grow up in the church. Similarly, there's a lot to be said for not trying to be overly "trendy", if it's just not you. Just relax.

Image from here.