Chimyo Atkinson's Articles on Lions Roar

At the first-ever gathering of Buddhist teachers of black African descent, held at New York’s Union Theological Seminary, two panels of leading Buddhist teachers took questions about what it means to be a black Buddhist in America today. From the March 2019 issue of Lion's Roar. Photos by Garlia Cornelius. Question: Why was it important for you as black Buddhists to come together? Ruth King: Until we come together as a group of black folks, we don’t actually realize what we’ve been missing. It’s like there’s a certain hunger you can’t touch until you’re in the soup together. It’s a beautiful surrender, a beautiful uplifting, and a beautiful reminder that the dharma is deeper than a lot of the Buddhist institutions we find ourselves in. There’s tremendous liberation in our connectedness, in remembering who we are and the lineages that we’ve come from that run parallel to the dharma. Coming together at this gathering, there’s been a tremendous sense of spiritual wealth. It’s a deep stream that has been nourishing and refreshing, and it has fortified us to do what must be done in our communities. Chimyo Atkinson: We need to understand that dharma centers suffer from the same thread of racism that all the organizations in our society suffer from. This is not necessarily the problem of the black practitioner. I’ve been very fortunate to have found a welcoming dharma family where I practice, and I’m very grateful for that. But I also recognize that the insidious stream of this disease plagues us even there. I’m the only black person in that room and I’m a teacher. What does that mean? Coming here to sit with other teachers who have some of the same experiences and background that I do is very precious and nurturing for me. It informs me. It lets me see my blind spots and how I can help others. And by others, I mean all other sentient beings, whatever color their bodies are. Lama Rod Owens: Representation is very important. I’m tired of this mythology that black people don’t practice Buddhism. (This is for my family, if you’re watching.) Gathering together and having this documented is proof for all the Buddhist teachers who say there aren’t any black people in their tradition who practice. For me personally, I came up in my tradition with no idea that there were black people in Vajrayana Buddhism. The first black teacher I met was me. Myokei Caine-Barrett, Shonin: Many of us find ourselves in spaces where we’re not allowed to talk about the suffering of racism. It is a disease that infects all of us, especially in America, and if we don’t talk about it, we’ll never get rid of it. Coming together allows us to talk about it, to share our wounds, to heal each other, and to acknowledge the pain and the loss we all suffer when we are separated. Gretchen Rohr: There’s an opening that occurs in spaces where we are within our own affinity groups. When in spaces with other people of color, there are a lot of different forms in which our liberation can express itself. It’s hard to dive into the unique shapes in the black community when we’re not among other black practitioners and teachers. It gives us an opportunity to hold ourselves more accountable about some of the stuff we may not get to when we are in multiracial spaces. Jozen Tamori Gibson: Ancestry is very important for me. Honoring elderhood is very important for me—understanding what it means to be invited to hold and carry a torch, understanding what that torch feels like when it’s passed hand to hand, heart to heart. It has been very important for me to feel that in this physical space. Question: As someone who has been an artist–activist all my adult life, my question is: What does engaged Buddhism look like? What is Buddhism’s role in social justice and in the political process? Gina Sharpe: Sometimes we may think that a Buddhist life comes through the mind. But actually it involves the mind, the body, and the heart. It’s not just what we think. That’s important, but it’s not 100 percent of our practice. Practice involves what we do with our bodies and how we live in community. It involves what that community means for us and how we support the community with justice and kindness. It involves all of the ways we live together in that one body that we call interconnectedness. This understanding is so missing in our world. Liberation is impossible if we’re disconnected from others. —Gina Sharpe. For me, activism means manifesting these beautiful teachings that I have been given. I am sharing that gift with my body, with my mind, and with my heart. Activism is not separate from who I am as a practicing Buddhist; it is inextricably connected. If we have compassion and peace, it’s natural to want to help the world live in justice and peace. In some ways, we don’t even have to add the word “Buddhist.” We’re just good people wanting the world to reflect what we feel inside. We’re not limited to our own liberation. Liberation is impossible if we’re disconnected from others. Ruth King: For me, so much of Buddhist practice is about a deep understanding of our interdependence. Every action I take plants a seed. When I’m doing my artistry and my activism, I ask myself: Can I be in this fight while holding somebody’s hand? Can I tell you how I really feel, but also maintain a sense of respect and humanity? Can I do that with sensitivity and care, while still saying what needs to be said and doing what needs to be done? It’s a crazy time right now, so what we do is important. It’s important to keep doing our work of activism. Our artistry is important as cultural medicine. It’s important how we go about it. We’re planting seeds all the time. Gretchen Rohr: I see activism as an engagement with my aligned values. A practice of mindfulness is mindless if it’s not driven by a value system. I’m very inspired by the work of some of the people and organizations I support. I’m honored to serve on the board of the Buddhist Peace Fellowship, which has a program called Build Block Be: build the good stuff, block the bad stuff, and be in alignment with your Buddhist values. That’s what it is for me. Myokei Caine-Barrett: I’d like to share a practice that helps me in these difficult times. It’s the practice of Bodhisattva Jofuku, who says to everyone he meets, even the person who hates him: “I respect you. I’ll never despise you. I know you’ll be a buddha someday.” Question: What challenges have you faced as people of color in your Buddhist tradition and how do you overcome those challenges? For me, it’s been a long, lonely journey. Ralph Steele: It has been lonely for me too. When I see you, I see me. As a kid, I saw races separated by signs that said “For coloreds only.” I saw race riots, I lost a lot of friends in Vietnam, and I went through the epidemic of drugs and so forth. At a certain point, though, the practice begins to teach you how to let go and let things be. But you have to practice. After you reach ten thousand hours of practice you begin to let things be, and when you go over ten thousand hours of practice…yeah, now you’re smiling. The Buddhist practice is not passive. It’s very seriously active. Ruth King: The question is a brave one. It’s a question that asks how we cope when our practice is hard and when there’s a lot of struggle around race and racism in the institutions we’re in. What I can say to you, from our journey this weekend, is that we’re all playing with some variation of that. The intention is to bring the wisdom of Buddhist teachings into the heart of the struggle, and that is indeed a practice. I want you to know that you’re not alone in this exploration. It’s not like we ever finally arrive. We are constantly arriving and humbling ourselves and tenderizing our hearts around what it means to walk in the world with an open heart. Chimyo Atkinson: The loneliness is very much a part of my life too. Practicing dharma looks lonely because you’re sitting on a cushion all by yourself. But we sometimes forget that one of the triple jewels of Buddhism is sangha, community. You can begin dharma practice on your own—you can begin it anywhere, even right now sitting right there—but it’s very important to find other people you can practice with. It’s going to take some effort. I don’t like to call it shopping around, but sometimes you know what fits when you walk in the room, and other times, you have to give people a chance. Sometimes you have to take what you can get and make your connections there. It’s an effort on both sides. Do not give up. We’re sitting here, come find us. This interconnection of all beings is real. Question: Many of our Buddhist communities are still white-dominated. Sometimes as people of color we get invitations to participate in the decision-making, but the change of pace can be pretty glacial. Do we continue pushing from within when we get invited to have a seat at the table, or is there a way for change to happen at a slightly more revolutionary pace? Gina Sharpe: The answer is yes and yes. There are many pathways to diversity. I think that there are ways to work within certain institutions, but it is glacial. It’s always been glacial. Just because these are Buddhist spaces, we think somehow that people should be sincere, receptive, and transparent. But we’re complicated beings, and although we may have the best of intentions, we are deeply conditioned by a racist society. Our resistance to deracializing the mind is high, because we’re humans. We love our conditioned minds because we’ve been living with them for a very long time and we’re familiar with them. An extraordinary amount of patience is necessary. Sometimes we need to figure out ways to be creative and listen deeply to what is needed, without reference to the larger society. Learn through your own love, compassion, and kindness. Create your own pathways to change. They’re there, but they have to be excavated. So as a short answer: yes, it’s frustrating to work from within...

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