Rainbow children over me: parabolic narratives for Sakia Gunn

Cross Currents, Summer, 2004 by Gayle R. Baldwin

Sakia La Tona Gunn was murdered early on Mother's Day morning, May 11, 2003 in downtown Newark, New Jersey while she and her friends were waiting for a bus. She was stabbed in the heart by Richard McCullough, 29, and later died. McCullough, who is now out on bail, waived his right to appear in court at his arraignment on Wednesday, December 10, 2003, after instructing his attorney to enter a plea of "not guilty." (1) Sakia was a 15-year-old black lesbian, an "Ag" as friends called her, that is, an aggressive "butch" lesbian. Although initial reports indicated that the murder was incited by the Sakia because she chose to defend her friends, the girls who were actually there said that the men had already singled them out precisely because they knew they were lesbians.

Initially, national and international outrage and support was insignificant. This is not due simply to white racism, as was presumed by the gay press, but homophobia. The community response, including many of the local religious organizations, did not rally to support the gay and lesbian youth of the city. Why? ".... both whites and blacks wish young black queers would disappear." (2) Nothing much changed for Newark's gay and lesbian youth. Discussion threads from Internet sources by Newark's young people continue to report fear of more gay hate crimes. From the words written in the July 29, 2003 posting of online "Writings" of the organization for Gay and Lesbian Youth in New Jersey, the Galy-NJ, we hear the words of "Carrie B.": "People say, 'don't be afraid! Be proud of about the way you feel! Why would you be scared!' I'm scared because ... it's scary! The ground under my feet is gone. It has left me floating, unsure of myself, doubting, wishing, hopeless. My friends would laugh, they would make fun of me. They would threaten me. Not real friends. I'm so afraid." In the same group of writings is a Haiku poem by Andy Curto which sums up the fear:

The wind is so strong
it makes me feel so small and
insignificant (3)

Yet, in spite of initial apathy, a social and spiritual change of heart has occurred in Newark and is gaining power. According to Laquetta Nelson, activist and President of the Newark Pride Alliance, "the Spirit is moving." With Laquetta's strong and charismatic leadership, the people of Newark who were touched by this murder have not given up hope. On the contrary, they are organizing and, as Laquetta said to me, paraphrasing the African American Gospel song, these young people, their parents and friends are "not letting nobody turn me around." (4) This community conversion began at New York City's Christopher pier on Friday, June 11th, 2003 at the memorial march and rally for Sakia Gunn where hundreds of gays, lesbians, their friends and families marched, sang and recited testimonies of hope that Sakia's death would, after all, have meaning. Two of these poems, "Rainbow Children" by Piper Anderson and "Over Me" by Travis Montez, stood out as examples of how these young people, rejected by organized religion, turn to their own resources to express the spiritual power that does not waver, even in the face of hopelessness. What is striking is the passionate push by many of the young people who knew Sakia to create their own religion in the face of rejection, and to reach for some spirituality that will keep her memory and their hope for change alive. Although their theology is not systematic, I would argue that it is still theology, still words about "God." It is not the god of organized religion in whom these young people put their trust. For these gay and lesbian youth "God" is problematic. This is not because they do not believe in a god, but because for many, the name symbolizes the hate and rejection of traditional organized religion. The divine must be reconstructed in order to fit their own experience. This essay examines the religious responses and theological reconstructions manifest in two pieces performed at this event, asking the question, what are the ingredients of a parabolic narrative that can have the effect of actually transforming the religious imagination?

The Parabolic Narrative

The poems, "Over Me" by Travis Montez and "Rainbow Children," by Piper Anderson show the courage and passion that makes the narratives "parabolic," that is, containing the potential to convert the religious imagination of the hearer/reader. Before turning to the poems themselves, I would first like to address the questions, Why is a new method, the "parabolic narrative method" necessary? What does it add to the work of "queer theology"? Secondly I will explain the parabolic framework I am using to weigh a narrative and test its ability to convert the vision and the heart.

Homophobia characteristically has had as its bedfellow orthodox monotheism which, as many feminist and womanist liberation theologians have pointed out, depends on heterosexism to support its hierarchy of values. When gay and lesbian theologians first began to write an apologetic for the affirmation of homosexuals by the Christian faith, they overlooked this phenomenon. This resulted in the passionate, but stubborn effort to convert the religious imagination of mainstream Christianities by exegeting the problematic biblical texts and by emphasizing the approach of liberation theologies. Even though the work did pave the way for some understanding, the majority of Christian denominations are still as reluctant to accept same-sex partnerships and bless them, as they are willing to ordain "sexually active" lesbian and gay ministers. (The exception is the consecration of the Right Reverend Gene Robinson, recently installed by the diocese of New Hampshire as the first openly gay man with a partner. This act alone has precipitated a mild schism in the Anglican communion.) What is needed is a new approach that can fundamentally convert the heterosexist religious imagination, stories that interrupt assumptions and call heterosexism into question. But not any story will do. These stories must be powerful, intrusive, demanding, sometimes, even frightening.