Religious Schools, Upper East Side

When trying desperately to find a topic to write this blog on, I found myself constantly looking in obvious places, such as around churches or museums. But I found my subject while walking to class one day and realized it was all around me the whole time.

I live on the Upper East side of Manhattan where religion is present in every aspect of the community. Every business establishment has religious artifacts relating to the owners faith present in the window, every street has various places of worship and pious people are as common as taxi cabs. The upper east side has a deep history of Catholic and Jewish groups who  laid claim to this area and built a community which is considered among the safest, wealthiest in all of New York.

When leaving on my walk for Lincoln Center, my street of East 85th tends to be quiet with few people. Unless it happens to be when school is letting out. This is quite a sight to be hold, because my street is also home RaMaz: a Jewish prep School. The amount of security present in the area when the school day is done is truly astonishing. N.Y.P.D officers are posted on each street corner within three blocks while suited security guards with ear pieces patrol the street and entire convoys of black SUV's arrive to pick up children. It is interesting to think about why this level of  security is considered necessary.Hearing people talk in the neighborhood it was made apparent that these security measures exist because of the ISIS threat. What a powerful thought, the presence of another religious group, one that is across the world still finds its way to cast a shadow over the hearts and minds of people here in America. Entire squads of men being employed to see the safe passage of children on their way home from school for fear of a group on the other side of the world speaks volumes about the value this area puts on community and its traditions. The fear of a terrorist attack or child abduction isn't necessarily what this security is defending against, it is the sanctity of mind which this level of security is trying to uphold. An attack or abduction isn't needed for the enemy to claim a victory. Fear, pulling kids out of school or keeping them from attending these religious schools is all that is needed to begin deteriorating the safety of mind these communities fought so hard to create over the past century.

 What is at stake which requires such measures for security? Quite obviously the children of very powerful people, but also their community itself. The community which over the past century has grown to be one of the most prosperous in the country. These schools have taught in the same tradition since there creation to uphold this community and pass and any interference's or alterations may be seen as a threat to their dominance over the area.

The presence of schools such as this is what I wish to point out. These religious schools,  all of which are within eye sight of one another, are various Catholic and Jewish schools known to be among the most prestigious in the country. Among them are Loyola School, Ramaz Jewish prep school, Marymount School of New York and many others. So why do these school all exist so close to one another? Why are all of these schools dedicated to certain faiths? And why do all of these schools receive praise for being the best in the country with extremely high Ivy League school transfer rates. The quickest assumption may be that this is where the money is. The most expensive areas with the wealthiest inhabitants draw the best schools, right? Well it may not be so simple, when doing research I discovered the area where Loyola school currently resides on the northwest corner of Park Avenue and 83rd Street was purchased Pre 1900 for 7,500 dollars. Today the Loyola school complex resembles more of a citadel than a school, but shows that it may not have been the money which brought the schools, but the establishment and dedication to these religions which grew such strong communities and allowed this area to remain a titan into the 21st century.

What is at stake here? Should we look down upon these schools for teaching a curriculum perfectly catered to a specific mindset? I feel as though these education systems are so rigid and structured to adhere to the traditions of the local community and to continue the prosperity of it. While tradition is important, it should be taken into consideration the consequences this may have. Keeping a community tight knit may provide security for tradition but it also may lead to small mindedness and may prevent empathy towards other groups. Similar to the problem Niebuhr presented, where groups may find it difficult to embrace other groups. Another problem brought on by these forms of private education created and catered towards a certain type of persons (socially, religiously, economically) is that it may lead to a trend of focusing on the wrong aspects of a religion. For instance Ahmed speaks about Islam and how its teachings have been misconstrued and the continuation of these traditions being passed on has made these specific ways of Islam take hold as Islam itself .

These religious Schools and the communities they cater too have something worth holding onto. A strong prosperous community which was made possible by dedication to the faiths they claim true. These schools show the power of community, education and tradition, but in a more negative light the strong continuation of tradition could possibly be tied to animosity toward outsiders and a self righteous mindset which is arguably a plague which afflicts this city and nation.

"Walk Humbly With Thy God"

838 5th Avenue facing Central Park West

838 5th Avenue along 65th street

Every day on my bus route home I see fragments of biblical scripture etched onto the facade of this building (above). The wall facing central park reads “Love thy neighbor as thyself” (Mark, 12:31) and the other side reads “Walk humbly with thy God” (Micah, 6:8 - currently blocked by construction). These words are written in massive font with all capital letters and are placed in a location that is impossible to miss. Every vehicle that cuts east across town through Central Park must pass this building. It sits directly across the street from the prestigious Temple Emanu-El and so I initially assumed it was an extension of the temple. A quick Google revealed that it is actually a complex of condominiums, formerly referred to with the epithet “The House of Judaism”.

Contextually, the phrase “Love thy neighbor as thyself” is amongst the bible’s greatest commandments and is preceded with “And you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength”. Jesus is telling his followers to love their lord completely, but to also love their fellow man just as they love themselves. This passage was embodied through Dorothy Day’s life. She became apart of the Catholic worker movement removing herself from the hierarchic nature of the Church. Instead, she joined those who lived on the margins of America’s upwardly mobile society. She stripped herself of everything in order to fully lend herself to God’s love.

The second phrase is actually the end of a rhetorical question which asks: “He hath showed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the LORD require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God?” In this passage, God addresses the Israeli’s who were leading sinful lives at the time. This notion of walking “with” God seems the most operative to me.  He doesn’t ask the Israeli’s walk “as” him, or “behind” him, or “ahead” of him; he asks them the walk “with” him, beside him, hand in hand with him. In Liebman’s book Peace of Mind he taps into this idea of having a collaborative relationship with God. He calls his readers to shed their concept of God as a person and to see him as a force of love. According to him, this force or energy can be channeled to help people advance themselves to do God’s work in the world and to be productive.

When I pass this complex on the corner of 65^th and Park Avenue and, I cannot help but feel a bit judged and patronized every time I read the words. They are instructive and hold so much biblical weight. Their sheer size seems to evoke much more power than that of the small text that appears in the bible. As I read them I feel as I am being held under the direct scrutiny of God. I feel like I have a responsibility. I think these phrases were probably engraved into the building for that exact reason—to remind God’s people of their responsibilites. New York City is such a busy, fast-paced place and it is easy to forget how to act and how to treat one another. No one seems to have enough time to spend with their families, go for a walk, read the bible or go to Church. But, perhaps all anyone needs is a little reminder to walk with God and to love each other. 

References

Day, Dorothy. The Long Loneliness: The Autobiography of Dorothy Day. San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1981. Print. 

Liebman, Joshua Loth. Peace of Mind. New York: Simon and Schuster, 1946. Print.

Hiding Religion In Plain Sight

This not-so-seemingly religious artifact almost didn’t make it to this blog. Tagged onto the rail of the entrance to the 1 train on 96^th and Broadway, I barely noticed it at first, and certainly didn’t right away notice the significance it now holds for me. Most artifacts and religious relics command you to be reminded of religion, even if they are not in an inherently religious location. Running vertically is clearly written “TMPL,” even if the L is backward. Aurally, this word is reminiscent of temple. The M, written non-conventionally, looks more like an E; this letter has the ability to act as both letters, and, doing so, the tag becomes even more of the word “TEMPL.” This raises questions: Why the left off “E” at the end? Why the backwards L? Why such a sacred word manipulated to not look like itself, but still be clearly seen?

At this point, I would like to throw us into Dorothy Day’s religion, and then relate it back. Living on Statin Island, Day lived religiously by infusing her physical world with religious thought and action. Daily chores like checking the mail, working around the house, became a way to include God in her life. At this time in her life, she was exceptionally happy, because of the mere presence of God in her life. Her “Long Loneliness” seemed lost at this point, because she was happy and knew what would make her even happier.

This tool to include religion in everyday life worked well for Day, so why can’t this seemingly randomly placed text be working in the same way? You can see in the picture the telling green of the MTA it’s been placed against. In the background of this shot was a busy street full of people going about their lives. The paint under the text is chipping away, and taking part of the word with it. But maybe this still means something to someone out there. Its position outside a busy train stop makes it visible to anyone looking. So many people droningly use the MTA as a form of transportation. They see that green as a sign of crowded trains and early mornings. In the same situation, Day would have taken the opportunity to commute every day as a time to pray, maybe to play with her rosaries. For her, it would have truly been a temple, because, for her, anything could be. As long as she was being mindful of God’s presence in her life, she was worshiping in a temple of God, no matter the location. Every day, this train stop could be someone’s temple as they wait for the subway, or as they walk past the words to get home from work. And maybe it reminds them to be mindful of God in their lives.

In another way, it represents America’s changing religious experience and identity. A hundred years ago, when the subways were built, you might have seen graffiti on them, but probably not religious graffiti. This is because the people’s experience of religion is changing. Where there was once a “secularist truce that kept religion out of the public sphere,” this has now “been broken” (Houtman & Meyer P2). A religious “text” no longer has to be some grand analysis or quotation approved by a scholar. For my Grandmother, the only worshiping that happens is out of a Bible or in Mass on Saturday night. Since I’ve started this course, seeing graffiti on a Subway has left me ranting to my peers about whether they see something resembling the word “temple” as religious, or whether it can be spiritual. It’s okay that this possibly religious thing is so concise and plain; it can still be counted as religious even if it’s not a “religious text;” it being a religiously connotated word can make it a religious experience for someone. Likewise, its publicity does not detract from its religiousness. It matters no matter the circumstances surrounding it.

Freedom / Harmony / Salvation

Killing two birds with one stone was not my intention, but when some divine power puts the opportunity in my way, I suppose that this class has taught me not to say no. As I walked further down the empty streets of Bushwick, and after snapping my first shot of the “urban church,” I happened upon another interesting mural: the image of an individual wearing a wrap or hijab-type of head covering, placed in the clouds with rainbows at the bottom. I say the word “individual” because while hijabs are customarily associated with women, the eyes look a bit more like a man’s. I feel like this can be considered deliberate, as well as the composition of the portrait and the overall outfit. This image, at least to me, is a combination of both religious and political aspects that seek to be harmonized within one place.

Quite generally, I think it relates back to Border Passage by Leila Ahmed quite well, for the simple fact that the image represents someone that would generally be considered of the Islamic faith based on dress and traditional custom. Aside from this, my thoughts had to undergo some picking apart. I had a difficult time reading Ahmed’s story, simply for the fact that I was fervently seeking a religious presence to be completely obvious to me right away, rather than taking the extra time to think abstractly and understand that it was present all at once - even when all I could point out was political and societal strife. This is where it relates to the mural.

One example of a political or societal issue that seems to be present today is in relation to the LGBTQ community. As generally as possible, the attire of the individual could be related to that, considering how rainbows are often used as a symbol of pride within that community. Combining that with a well known religious portrait is very much like the marriage between political and religious strife intertwined within Border Passage. The fact that the gender of the individual in the mural remains unspecified almost puts blinders on the two concepts brought together in one image, successfully nullifying any prejudices or biases that normally arise and instead making it a peaceful combination. Another interesting thing to note is the individual’s placement amongst clouds, perhaps signifying a separate note of the concept of heaven. In other words, no matter what things, parts, beliefs, or ideals constitute one person, everything can be united in tranquility while still achieving some sort of salvation.

In Border Passage, I never realized until conversations in class revealed to me just how many elements were present at one time. It’s ultimately the story of growth, and how a young girl spends her life maturing while trying to understand where she belongs in terms of religion, society, politics, and even gender. Surprisingly, while all of these things are often considered within their own rights, it seems that Ahmed encounters everything in combination. This mural signifies this quite well, in that sometimes certain issues or topics cannot just be considered in their own right. In order to gain understanding, or at least broaden perspective, one must be able to open their mind and take in all different perspectives. If anything, this piece of art is able to do just that - speaking volumes with no words at all. And at the end of the day, I think that’s what makes the biggest impact. That’s what people will remember.

The Sanctity and Solace...of Bushwick

When first thinking about what to blog about, I was convinced that I would need to narrow my search down to a small perimeter around some religious establishment. But much to my (probably not that unforeseen) surprise, a trip to Bushwick was all that I needed. On a quest for something vintage and the fresh hope of a new loot of clothing with a friend at my side, I emerged from an L train stop which was, to me, in the middle of nowhere, and my eyes were graced by the sight of a church. But, in pure Brooklyn fashion, this was no ordinary church. There was no ordinary steeple, no ordinary bells or rafters, and no ordinary stained glass windows. This church was none other than a mural on a brick wall as a part of the renowned Bushwick Collective - a sort of outdoor art collection as a product of budding street artists that want to share their work unabashedly.

My first thought: “Wow, I should take a picture for the blog.” My second thought: “What text will I even relate this to?” At the time, I had no idea how I was going to use it. But as our class progressed, I found myself connecting pieces together that I didn’t think I would be able to. My mind shot to The Dharma Bums. The narrative of the book was based around exploration of the self and of one’s beliefs, as well as taking in other people’s beliefs and deciding for yourself what you choose to identify with. Not to mention, they brought their traditions and beliefs with them everywhere they went. That’s where I thought this mural came in.

Many people nowadays, at least I feel, consider themselves “lost” or “searching”. Many people are searching for some type of truth, some type of security, or maybe even clarity to cling to in the busy and confusing times of the everyday. But sometimes that clarity doesn’t come in the form of a place of worship, or a routine, or a group of friends or peers. So where there is no way, one must instead make a way. For people that can’t find a place, they make one of their own. As in The Dharma Bums, I feel as though the artist who created this mural understood the difficulty of finding a place to collectively believe in one common deity or cause, and instead created one that was for everyone to see, for everyone to appreciate, and for everyone to feel as though they could be a part of something bigger or where they could just seek to find themselves.

As for the physical aspect of this “urban church,” it has the elements of more than just one faith. For example, the ornateness of the stained glass and the structure of the building is reminiscent of the Catholic church, with its high ceilings and beautiful artistry in the form of, guess what? (Hint: they’re the stained glass windows). The eye at the top of the church represents a number of things. It can be like an all-seeing eye - and no, we’re not talking about Sauron. It can be the Hamsa, which has been represented within the Christian, Jewish, and Arabic faiths. In this way, it could be the unity of all faiths under one suppositional “roof.” Or, if we think of it in its most general terms, it could just be the picture of an omnipresent, omnipotent deity that looks over those who choose to find solace there, or oversees the goings-on.