Sunday, May 31, 2009

A little media criticism

I read this headline and lede from a NBC news feed:


ABORTION RIGHTS BACKERS GET ASSURANCES

The White House scrambles to assuage liberal groups that Judge Sonia Sotomayor agrees with Obama's belief in protections for women's right to choose.


Now, at first read, nothing seems amiss. Pretty straightforward, yeah?
But at second look I saw what frustrates me most about the abortion debate and the biased language media often use.

"...protections for women's right to choose."

The reporter of this article has taken a position whether he or she knows it or not. The language speaks of abortion as a right to be protected. By labeling abortion as a woman's right, the reporter makes those against abortion look like the bad guys. After all, we Americans have always been fiercely protective of our rights and demonize anyone who would take them away.

But for those against abortion, the debate has never been about a woman's right to choose--it is about a child's right to live (and that right is in the Declaration of Independence). For them, abortion is no more a right than is genocide. You wouldn't say it's a mother's right to murder her 4-year-old son, would you?

People on both sides of the abortion debate use euphemisms to make their side sound better and the other side worse. The label "pro-choice" makes abortion supporters sound like the noble protector of rights, while at the same time implying the other side is full of women oppressors. The label "pro-life" makes the anti-abortion crowd sound like saviors, while implying the others side is full of murderers.

Both labels are unhelpful. The anti-abortion crowd doesn't see abortion as an issue of women's rights. The pro-abortion crowd doesn't believe a fetus is a legitimate life, so they don't see abortion as murder. A false dichotomy is created with these labels. You're either for rights or you're for life. There is no reason you should have to choose between those fundamental concepts.

The debate truly is about when life begins, not about women's rights. The debate will move nowhere while both sides continued to miscategorize one another. And reporters need to be more careful with their language.

Monday, May 18, 2009

Good 'ole Teddy

I found these at a good time.





Sunday, May 17, 2009

Commitment

I've realized something about myself. I'm afraid of commitment.

It's a strange thing to admit because I've always bashed on our non-commitment culture, especially as it applies to men. After all, we should be strong and courageous, right? We should go head-first into relationships, jobs and whatever else with unflinching resolve and dedication.

It's strange because being a Christian is a huge commitment. Coming to Biola was quite the commitment. Getting tattoos on my calves was a heavy commitment. So it's not like I'm totally afraid of commitment. It seems with issues of my faith and its expression I feel much more comfortable. But maybe that's just because I was raised in it and haven't suffered a ton of persecution for it.

But back to the issue:

Take for example my lack of a dating life. Is it lacking because I don't have options; because I'm a geeky loner who's afraid to talk to girls? Not really. I mean, if anything, there are too many options (the Biola ratio kills me sometimes). But I don't do anything about it, even though it wouldn't be that hard.

Why don't I do anything about it? Well, one, because I'm afraid of giving up sovereignty in my life to anyone but God; I want to be able to make decisions freely, without worrying about how I'm affecting someone else. The second reason is because I'm afraid of choosing the wrong person. I'm afraid of committing to someone and then later discovering someone else "better." Obviously this is unhealthy and irrational fear, but it's what I'm feeling, and trying harder rarely makes a feeling go away.

This problem extends to career life too. Several options lay before me right now. I could continue along the straight and narrow, following what I've always thought would be my journey: journalism, media, writing, the like. Now as I've watched the newspaper industry and the economy in general crumble, another option (which I don't want to make public yet) has presented itself.

This second option is very left-field for me and would, I know, surprise a lot of people. This option is very attractive to me right now, however, and wouldn't necessarily mean me giving up my craft--just expressing it in a much different context. But despite how strongly I feel about this option, I haven't committed to it. Why? Well, because something better might come up.

There's certainly wisdom in prudence. People who throw themselves around at everything, committing themselves recklessly without thinking, obviously have their own set of issues. I've always valued deep consideration and self-control. And after all that thinking, when I do decide to commit to something, I commit hard-core.

That's likely why dating is such an issue for me. I can't stand the idea of just casually going out with someone. For me, you should either commit hard-core or do nothing; hanging out in the middle isn't productive in my mind. I imagine this dichotomy I draw isn't always good. I imagine being in the middle often requires the most faith.

But it also makes you so vulnerable to hurt--something I desperately try to avoid.

Sunday, May 03, 2009

Viva la vida. La vida sin impossiblidades.

I often hear my friends -- or myself, in my own head -- wish for the day when things will be "stable." You know, the day when you don't have to worry about having different living arrangements or a different job every year; the day when essay writing is a thing of the past, and we leave our work at work.

Maybe there will be a day without essays, but I disbelieve that life will ever be "stable."

Those who have their money safely locked away in 401(k)s or other stock based retirement funds recently got their fill of the erroneous notion of stability. And I've learned the hard way that even family walks teeteringly on the edge of instability.

Five years ago I imagined myself soaking up the books (and rain) in some Oregon college with my high school sweetie no more than a short drive away. I knew what I wanted to do with my life, but aggressive career pursuits were far from my mind -- in fact I thought such thoughts flirted with idolatry. I was confident in my theology. Washington, D.C. was only a place I saw on the news.

Though my family still recognizes me well enough, when I return to Oregon I feel more and more like a stranger and visitor. Granted, I still have my quirks and hobbies and get along well enough, but the pool of experiences in which my life has been dipped -- apart from my family -- has washed away much naivety, innocence and presumptions I once held.

If so much can change in five years, where will I be in the next five? Even just a year ago I imagined myself graduating from college right into a newsroom as a reporter. Now I watch helplessly as the newspaper industry collapses across the nation. I watch unemployment numbers tick-tick-tick up, and read one article after the other about the plight of some family, group or individual that is suffering from an element of the economic blight. I watch my student loans stack up.

This is an unpredictable world. Didn't Jesus warn us not to obsess over the future? After all, he said, we don't even know what tomorrow will bring. We can plan this or plan that, but in the end it's often a roll of the dice; a draw of the cards. I can follow diligently the mist-shrouded land in the distance, but who knows what islands or icebergs will accompany my journey there -- or what mirage my goal will reveal itself to be.

I may or may not make some drastic decisions in this next year. I might surprise some people, and might disappoint others. But I do the best with what I have. It's guess work most of the time. My guiding principle is that which I had tattooed on my right calf a year and a half ago: πίστις--pistis. That is, faith. I am told in the Bible to walk by faith, not by sight. Faith is the "assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen" says Hebrews 11:1.

There is a lot I can't see; a lot that can undermine any "stability" I find in life. But I have greater promises than stability.