CHURCH AND STATE
I'm very proud of my daughter today.
She almost filed her first lawsuit this week.
She's 17. It was a hard decision. But she felt it was the right thing to do.
Last week, a letter to the editor ran in our local paper, The Keene Sentinel. A club at the Keene High School, the Students for a Free Tibet, had arranged for a group of Tibetan Buddhist monks to visit and present their "Sacred Arts" program. Activities included the creation and display of a mandala, "a large, colorful and intricate sand painting that symbolizes Tibetan Buddhist beliefs" in the foyer of the high school, displays of Tibetan culture, and a fundraiser to support their monastery.
Their cause is a just one, and admirable. They have been persecuted for their religious beliefs by their government and driven from their country. It seemed a wonderful gesture to invite them to talk to local students about their cause and their culture.
Unfortunately, the letter tended to blur the boundaries between matters of culture and religion.
This weekend, our friend Ted Parent, an attorney and former member of the local school board, called and asked if he could come by to talk with us and Robin.
He felt the letter raised serious issues about the separation of church and state, and set a dangerous precedent for other religious groups to request—and expect—the same privilege.
He explained the situation and legal ramifications to Robin, and she listened carefully. Then, he asked her to file a lawsuit against the school. It was an important step to get the school to seriously consider what it was letting itself in for if it allowed the presentation and activities to forward as described.
She started to cry.
She knew such an action could potentially open her up to verbal attacks and worse from her school community. It would look like she was protesting the monks' cause itself, when nothing could be further from her heart. In fact, she was looking forward to joining the Students for a Free Tibet this year.
We've never been parents who expected our kids to be "politically correct." We've always encouraged them to find what they are passionate about, and hold that dear. We want them to stand up for their beliefs and find their own way to act on them.
We neither encouraged nor discouraged Robin in her decision, as we knew she would bear the brunt of whatever repercussions took place.
She asked very good questions, including what was wrong with the monks coming. He explained that other religious groups could and would expect the same treatment. This is not about the monks, he said. It's about who would follow the monks. It would establish a bad precedent.
What would that mean for Robin, personally? What was the harm in establishing that precedent?
He explained that Shiite Muslims, fundamentalist Christians and polygamist Mormons could request the same courtesy.
Now, you have to know my kid.
She's bright, and perceptive, and insightful. She has a logical mind, and she's a fierce debater. From a very young age, she's stood up for issues like justice and fairness that are important to her.
She's also compassionate and caring and extremely tolerant of others. She has friends who are gay and friends who are straight. She has friends who are agnostic, friends who are Jewish and friends who are born-again Christians. (The latter often tell her she is going to go to hell for her beliefs, but she treasures their friendship anyway.) She has friends who are jocks and friends who have mental illness.
And she believes in putting her actions where her heart is. She volunteers at the Monadnock Humane Society and is a peer mentor for children with Asperger's Syndrome.
I said, "Everyone loves the Tibetan monks. Buddhism embraces peace and acceptance of all people and life, and it seems like a good idea to let them come and talk about that at school.
But if it's okay for them to display a religious symbol in the school foyer, and raise money for their monastery, then other groups could ask for the same."
I said, "You have friends who are gay. There are religions who believe your friends are wrong, and are sinful, and should not be allowed in school or to even live because they are gay. And these religious groups would have to allowed to come to school and share those beliefs as the Buddhist monks did.
You are a woman, and have women friends. There are religious groups who believe women should not be taught to read, should not be allowed to vote, or even be allowed to show their face. They believe women cannot even get into heaven unless they are married to a man who is going to heaven. And these religious groups would have to be allowed to come to school and share those beliefs, too.
There are religious groups who believe it's their God-given right to marry girls as young as 12 or 13, and even marry dozens of such girls. And these religious groups would have to be allowed to come to school and raise money for their beliefs, too."
Ted explained these groups are all free to practice their beliefs (to the extent those religious practices are legal in our country)—but not in our public schools.
These groups are allowed to talk about their culture and display artifacts of their culture in our public schools—but not perform religious ceremonies.
It's okay to view their religious icons in art class, or discuss and compare their religions in a world perspectives class. But it's not okay to display religious symbols in the school.
If the mandala is drawn as part of a religious ceremony, then conceivably, a recreation of the crucifixion could be, too. Or a recreations of the stoning of a woman who refuses to wear a burka.
If a fundraiser for the monks' monastery if allowed, then other groups could raise funds further their churches and missions.
These activities can take place in a church, or in Central Square, or in someone's home, and it would be perfectly appropriate.
But these things are not allowed in our public schools. It is not because the state is anti-religion. But because that very separation of religious matters from matters of state protects ALL of these religions to exist and practice, as long as they are distinct from our government.
Robin asked for time to think.
Actually, we went shopping.
She asked a few more questions, and I answered as best as I could.
Within a few hours, Robin's peace of mind was restored, and her intent was clear. She would sign the lawsuit.
We went to Ted's office Monday after school and filled out the paperwork. As her parent, I signed the lawsuit with her. But though I believed wholeheartedly in the process, it was understood that her actions would carry the weight.
And now we wait.
We've since heard that the school has reconsidered its position, and agreed that the nature of the monks' visit should be clarified. It's about culture, not religion, they agree, understanding that though the two are closely entwined in Tibetan culture, it gets a little trickier here.
Obviously, no one meant to create the stir they did with this event. And some may feel there was overreaction and a splitting of legal hairs.
But I believe what makes our country as amazing as it is, is that an ordinary teenager can stand up for its founding principals.
It's astounding her actions could make people think a little harder, and ask a few more questions—so that ALL people's freedoms can be protected.
I am very, very proud of my daughter today.
