The World Has Changed (32 page)

A.W.: They need to know how deeply their daughters are wounded by their apparent incomprehension that their daughters have sexual feelings. I think young girls are hurt when they come to understand that just because they are female, their fathers don’t believe they have sexual passions or interests. Meanwhile, they get to watch their brothers be
encouraged to go out and sow wild oats and be affirmed in their manhood. It’s a painful place for young women to be.

Because we live in a patriarchal system, most men haven’t thought much about what they can do to deal with this, other than to try to keep their daughters home, to make them feel really bad for going out and having a sexual life. I think they should be made aware of the tenderness that is required from fathers in raising daughters. They should embrace the whole female child in a way that makes her feel affirmed in her body.

 

E.W.: Do you think the reason more fathers don’t relate to their daughters in this way is because of the fears of being accused of sexual impropriety, especially because there have been so many instances of that?

 

A.W.: The fathers have to assume that these girl children, to whom they’ve given birth, inherit intelligence and can understand what is said to them. It then becomes imperative for fathers to talk to them about sexual matters and to be honest, loving, and patient. Fathers need to teach young women what is out there. The reason you see so many women become the victims of doggish men is because their fathers have not told them anything except that if you go out and do such and such, you’re a slut and no daughter of mine. That is not helpful. At this late date, it also encourages disease and death.

My novel is really a call to fathers to stand with their daughters and help protect them in a world where they are vulnerable. If a child has a strong mother, she’s very lucky. But barring that, she gets faulty information and easily becomes a victim.

 

E.W.: What role should mothers or the female partners of men play in this?

 

A.W.: Both parents should talk to both genders because what happens now simply upholds the patriarchy. The man gets to tell the boy to be the aggressor. The system has already told the woman that she is to submit. We need to break this. Parents need to understand that they made their children together. One is male, the other is female, but they are not that different spiritually.

All this talk about how a man can’t talk to his daughter about menstruation . . . well, please. By the time men have slept with women
for, say, thirty years, they’ve seen as much menstrual blood as the women have. So again, get over it. Don’t try to hide behind that one.

 

E.W.: You recently made your fourth trip to Cuba. How was that?

 

A.W.: I first went to Cuba in 1978 with a contingent of artists, writers, and musicians. Some of the older white Cubans retained racist feelings that were conveyed to us with a certain condescension and stiffness.

We asked about the treatment of gay people in Cuba and were told that they weren’t allowed to teach or become doctors. This was very upsetting. It was as if you’d met this really beautiful person who had one aspect of them that wasn’t, and it just made your heart ache. But these feelings were something we knew we could work with them on, and we have. Gay people in Cuba aren’t subjected to that discrimination now.

I remember the people of color being full of life. I’ve since returned to bring medical aid. I could see at one point how the economic embargo had brought poverty to the people and made them downhearted. It was the closest to defeat I’d ever seen the Cuban people, and it wasn’t clear that they’d survive. But it was clear that if they went down, they’d do so with their integrity and dignity intact.

Recently, since I’ve made a commitment to defend Cuba and educate people about the revolution and the country’s culture, I felt it was important to go to places I hadn’t visited before. I asked writer Margaret Randall, who lived in Cuba for many years, to act as a translator for my partner, Zelie, and me.

We were treated so sweetly by the people. Wherever we went there were performances. We visited Che Guevara’s crypt and met his children and widow. I loved seeing the extensive organic farms the Cubans have cultivated. They are good models for small, developing countries that want to maintain an independent food supply. I’m so grateful to see a place on the planet where there are people whose hearts haven’t been shriveled by hatred or greed.

 

E.W.: The Cuban Revolution made great strides in creating equality for women. What are your feelings about what appears to be a reemergence of prostitution in the country?

 

A.W.: I think the young women are extremely naive. They have been educated and protected by the revolution from such things. Consequently, many of them have an arrogance about their own bodies that perhaps makes them think that they are immune to and exempt from AIDS. I am very afraid for them.

When I see older white men with these primarily young, educated women of color, it is hard on the spirit. The women are too naive and inexperienced to know that they are engaging in an ancient system that oppresses women. They think of what they’re doing as a lark because it enables them to get a new tube of lipstick or some shampoo. But it’s very dangerous for them.

 

E.W.: The governor of New Jersey has offered a huge reward for the return of Assata Shakur, who is in exile in Cuba. As you know, she was imprisoned in the U.S. in the 1970s for her alleged involvement in a shoot-out that left a state patrolman dead. What are your feelings about Assata?

 

A.W.: I take her word that she didn’t kill the man. Cuba permitted her to have a life, but she is still unable to be with her family and friends. To put a bounty on her head is evil. Assata Shakur is a great human being. She should be left in peace and happiness. Any attempt to make her suffer is utterly demonic.

 

E.W.: What other passions do you have going on these days?

 

A.W.: I’m eager to learn more about the sovereignty movement in Hawaii. People should know that Hawaii is a country and should be respected as such. Because it was forcibly annexed to the United States does not mean that it is the U.S., except by conquest. A masterpiece on decolonization has been written by Haunani Trask, one of Hawaii’s most famous and fierce Hawaii-loving poets. It is called
From a Native Daughter
. This book is so powerful it will change the way you think about Hawaii, and all lands seized by force, forever.

Besides that, I’m beginning to be very passionate about being a homebody. I’m not going to be doing any more lectures or readings beyond the ones I’ve already agreed to do. I’m going to curtail my travel after this book tour.

I’ve also become very interested in heirloom seeds. These are seeds that are not artificial hybrids but are open-pollinated, and that have been collected by people who are trying to preserve the seed pool. The seed companies are rapidly corralling all the seeds. By using heirloom seeds we make it possible for people to continue to grow fruits and vegetables without relying on the seed companies.

I’m also going to be initiating healing circles and women’s and elders’ councils on the land. These circles won’t be designed to solve any problems, but for us to connect with each other and get grounded. Each circle will eventually connect with other circles around the globe so that, over time, we’ll get a stronger sense of who we are, as just regular people, in the world. We’re not going to do any conflict resolution. One of the things we may have to acknowledge at this point is that the earth could be entering its death struggle. We will have to try to be present as loving, compassionate earthlings.

I see the circles and councils as ways to share consciousness. This is an idea that many people are having at this time. It seems to be a spontaneous response to the situation we’re in. Many people are aware that we are in peril and that there is no trustworthy leadership. It’s important to comfort and be with each other during this time because so many people are alone. That really shouldn’t be, but that’s where this culture has brought us, to loneliness and isolation.

 

E.W.: I see a lot of isolation among so-called successful people, especially among African American women. How do you think this came to pass?

 

A.W.: We integrated into a system where loneliness is the norm. In the past, we became part of the industrial revolution, and now, in the present, part of the corporate era, both of which put money and jobs first. We’ve sacrificed community. That’s what the circles can give back to us. We can “be” rather than “do,” because we can see now that all the “doing” doesn’t bring happiness. It just makes for exhaustion, depletion, loneliness, and fear. So it’s time to slow down, sit down, and meditate. And join with others from a place of centeredness and calm.

 

E.W.: Does this come from your Buddhist practice?

 

A.W.: For the last few years I’ve studied tonglen. It is basically a practice of breathing in pain, fear, and darkness, and breathing out what you’d rather the world had. I’m concentrating on this one practice because it is useful in opening the heart. What’s happening with all the heart disease is that people’s emotions are getting locked in a tight heart. We need help from the ancient teachings to show us how to stretch and open our hearts.

 

E.W.: Is it ever frightening to breathe in the fear and pain?

 

A.W.: Yes, it gets very scary. One night I thought I was dying because I felt as if a herd of horses was running over my heart. I made the decision to just stay with it and keep breathing and relaxing my heart. I also accepted that they might just run over me and that I wouldn’t get up. I’d die. As it turned out, my heart was okay. It opened wide.

There are many ancient practices that we should avail ourselves of so that we can address whatever constrictions we might have. Buddhism has been especially helpful to me because it affirms the necessity for quiet, compassion over anger, being over doing. It encourages people to accept life in its totality, not just the good parts.

 

E.W.: I’m sure there are those who look at your life and your literary career and can’t imagine that there are many bad parts.

 

A.W.: The good parts are only really good because you have the bad parts. Otherwise, you wouldn’t know the difference. You wouldn’t be quite so appreciative of the good.

The bad times—and I’ve had my share—are almost invariably the places where I’ve learned crucial lessons. In fact, I’d say that the bad parts should be embraced more, even though you really don’t feel like that when you’re suffering.

After a while, you begin to see how the lessons come out of the bad, which makes you grateful for the pain you’ve endured. You learn to accept that one day you’ll be famous, the next day infamous. One day you’ll be rich, the next day poor. One day people will think you’re great, the next day they’ll think you’re terrible. And this is just the stuff of life. Life is not bright, cheerful, and sunny all the time. The wise ones know this.

But this is the lesson that seems hardest for Westerners to understand. People think that when something goes “wrong,” it’s their fault. If only they had done something differently. But sometimes things go wrong to teach you what is right.

The way I see it, life is about growth, struggle, and trying to expand your love of self and of other people. Also to really try hard not to cause harm—to cultivate a way of life that is harmless. This is likely to take all your energy for your entire life. And if you harm some folks along the way, well, that’s why the apology was born.

Judith Lief, Moderator

 

 

 

 

ALICE WALKER: About four years ago, I had . . . well, about four years ago, I was having a very difficult time. And I had lost someone really, really dear to me that I loved deeply. And nothing seemed to help. And I was talking with Tami Simon of Sounds True. She had come to do an interview. And after the interview, she said to me, “Well, have you listened to Pema Chödrön?” And I said, “No.” And she said, “Well, I will send you a tape, a set, called
Awakening Compassion
.” And I didn’t tell her all my troubles, but inside, I was saying, “Please do, soon.”

She sent it, and I stayed in the country on my sofa, mainly, and I listened to you, Pema, every night for the next year. [laughter] And I studied really hard, and I practiced tonglen. And it was tonglen, which is the practice of taking in pain and darkness, and just whatever awful thing you’re feeling, and sending out whatever you would prefer, that helped me through this incredibly difficult passage.

And I wrote to you and I said to you, “Thank you so much, because it was listening to you and learning from you that helped me through this period.” So I really, you know, want to thank you again, and also to ask you a question. The long way of asking it is that, in my experience, suffering is perennial. It always comes. And is there really a use? I mean, what is the use of suffering? I used to think there was no use at all. And now I know that there is. And I wonder if you would teach on that a little.

 

PEMA CHÖDRÖN: You know, these Lojong teachings that meant so much to you, I think the reason that I was so taken by those teachings
is because they are based on using suffering as good medicine. Like, the metaphor is using poison as medicine, as if there’s, like, a moment in time that reoccurs over and over and over again in every human life, of discomfort, extreme discomfort, called suffering. And what usually happens in that moment habitually with all of us—you know, it’s, like, genetic—is that, at that point, it hardens us, somehow. It hardens the heart because we don’t want any more pain.