Margarita Loinaz's Articles on Lions Roar

La Sarmiento, Margarita Loinaz, and Carol Iwata discuss the experiences of BIPOC Buddhist practitioners—the obstacles they face, and the contributions they are making. Moderated and with an introduction by Mariana Restrepo. My family and I immigrated to the United States when I was in my early teens. As undocumented immigrants, we had to go unnoticed; we had to blend in as much as possible, never calling attention to ourselves and never talking about our situation because you never knew who could be trusted. There was no celebrating our heritage and customs. When speaking in Spanish to friends at school, I often heard “This is America! Speak English” or “Go back to your country!” I learned to be observant and, following all these rules, I unconsciously learned how to belong. I assimilated. Looking back, it was a process of discerning what fit and what didn’t, erasing the parts of me that were considered “other.” Back then, my accent mortified me. While my features granted me white-passing privilege, my accent—rolling R’s and demarcated Y’s that sounded more like J’s—was a clear giveaway of my Latin American origin. I first encountered the dharma in Miami and then Nepal, both diverse communities where diverse cultures and backgrounds are welcomed and celebrated. It wasn’t until I attended my first meditation retreat that I was reminded of that feeling of being “other” once again. It was a silent retreat, and the demographics were what you typically would expect: middle-aged, upper-middle–class, white, and mostly male. I had been invited to attend, yet I felt out of place; I felt like I did not belong. It wasn’t until I listened to a talk by Rev. Lien Shutt that I realized what made me feel that way. She mentioned how the emphasis on nonconceptualizing often translates to not offering clear instructions. Practical aspects, such as how to behave in a shrine room, bow, and prostrate, are often learned through observation rather than practical instruction. This is a nice ideal, as Rev. Shutt mentioned in her talk, but historically, placing people of color in positions of not knowing has had very real repercussions in their lives, from not being able to receive services to even being punished. In a practice context, even if the aim is nonconceptualization, withholding knowledge can have huge consequences in the lives of BIPOC practitioners, effectively making practice inaccessible for them. In listening to Rev. Shutt’s talk, I realized that not knowing—not knowing what was expected of me, then failing to meet those expectations—created significant anxiety. Instead of being a refuge, the retreat became one more place where I felt I didn’t belong. In this forum, I talk with three BIPOC teachers whose work has focused on making Buddhism more diverse and inclusive. They discuss how attempts at diversity and inclusivity in our sanghas often fall short, how a basic lack of understanding of BIPOC practitioners often renders practice and practice spaces inaccessible, and how assimilation so often passes as diversity. It’s been twenty-three years since the first People of Color retreat at Spirit Rock in 1999. We have come so far, but as La Sarmiento mentions in the forum, we are far from a kumbaya moment. So, where do we go from here? It is not a question of whose burden/privilege it is; after all, interconnectedness is at the heart of our Buddhist practice. This forum doesn’t assume it has all the answers. Rather it is an invitation, an opportunity for each of us to examine our roles and responsibilities to our sanghas and each other. Whether it resonates with you or rubs you the wrong way, I invite you to lean into that space and explore why. —Mariana Restrepo, Associate Editor Moderator: Mariana Restrepo, Panelists: Carol Iwata, Margarita Loinaz, La Sarmiento Mariana Restrepo: Is there something we can identify as BIPOC Buddhism? Are there distinct Buddhist practices or teachings, for example, that have more affinity within the BIPOC context? Margarita Loinaz: What stands out for me in BIPOC sanghas is the emphasis on community, the relational aspect, the interconnectedness, and the valuing of our ancestors, the understanding of what comes through the lineage that we’re born into physically and culturally. I feel like the priority within the BIPOC sangha is the relational aspect of the teachings. The way Buddhism was sold to white America was very individualistic. You sit on your cushion, you meditate, you work on your stuff, and you don’t have to deal with the world. —Carol Iwata. Carol Iwata: I agree. And I wonder, how would the relational aspect really take hold in the predominantly white sanghas? I spent some time talking with the Buddhist scholar Jake Nagasawa about how Buddhism was sold, if you will, to white America, because it was very individualistic. You sit on your cushion, you meditate, you work on your stuff, and you don’t have to deal with the world. Another is that race and racism are central to our practice. Awareness of it and of being safe from white supremacy, voyeurism, all of those things—awareness, too, that race is embodied in us. In that way, our practice is more embodied, as well. I think this awareness of race gives impetus to a lot of the social justice work that comes out of BIPOC sanghas. It’s not unusual for people in larger, predominantly white sanghas to accuse their communities of spending too much time on social justice. They didn’t come there for that—they came there to get away from it. La Sarmiento: For me, having been brought up in a dominant culture sangha, I remember when I went to my first people of color retreat at Spirit Rock. I was like, “Oh my God, people on the stage look like me. And they’re speaking about experiences that I never hear in mainstream retreats.” Whether we came from immigrant families or our ancestors were slaves in this country, there is the common thread of a history of colonization, marginalization, and oppression that we could feel, a depth of understanding that never really gets spoken about in dominant culture sanghas. It was just so clear to me, the quality of presence, of actually feeling like a sangha. There was a sense of connection, versus just a bunch of people sitting in a room together doing their own thing. It’s very collectivist. We need each other in order to survive. That’s how we get through. And it’s not the same for the dominant culture, especially white folks. Mariana Restrepo: Are there any particular practices or teachings you have found that speak more directly to the experiences of BIPOC practitioners? Margarita Loinaz: Thich Nhat Hanh was able to center suffering as the doorway to liberation in a way that I’ve never seen any other teacher do, not quite like that. He was so embodied because of his own trajectory of what he went through, what he saw, the horrors he witnessed, and his own struggle with anger and rage. All that helped him teach a way of opening the heart to our own experience, our own feelings. He also taught how in the midst of pain, we could smile. This smile even in the face of great suffering provides a deep opening in our hearts. He demonstrated the integration of interdependence and compassion, both of which are aspects of Buddhism that feel very relevant to marginalized communities. La Sarmiento: I was so angry when I entered the dharma, and I remember I read a Thich Nhat Hanh book where he invited me to smile at a flower. And I’m like, I can’t smile at no goddamn flower. I’m so angry. It took me a while to get Thay’s teachings. But once I got there, I saw, it really is so defiant, right? No matter the intensity of what we’re holding inside or the intensity outside, to keep our hearts open is one of the most revolutionary things. For me, one of the Buddhist teachings that resonates is the remembrance of our own buddhanature, our own basic goodness, wisdom, and compassion. It’s all already there in every single one of us on the planet. We have this inherent dignity that no one can take away. All these teachings point toward moving through our suffering into liberation. Learning to work with it and transform it is key, especially for those of us who’ve been marginalized, suppressed, or colonized. Carol Iwata: I agree so much. I think the teachings that are critical for the way that BIPOC people practice Buddhism are the ones that are founded in what our life experience is. Those that speak from that awareness of how we have been marginalized or how we have been oppressed, of how we have suffered at the hands of larger forces. Examples of such teachings come from folks like Lama Rod Owens, Thich Nhat Hanh, angel Kyodo williams, and Resmaa Menakem. There is a collection of essays that came from Thich Nhat Hanh’s people of color retreats called Together We Are One. At the back of the book, there’s a beautiful invocation naming every one of the families of the earth: white, black, red, yellow. It’s just so gorgeous. I cried when I first heard it, and when I’ve read it to groups, other people have cried as well. Even fundamental teachings can be framed in a way that is conscious of the BIPOC experience. I went to a retreat led by angel Kyodo williams, hosted by Upaya Zen Center. She was teaching from the Hsin Hsin Ming (“Verses on the Faith-Mind”), which is one of the foundational Zen teachings about duality and oneness. She talked about oneness and nonduality as being complete within, that connecting wholly with yourself is where oneness starts. Mariana Restrepo: In your experience, are there any practices or teachings that can feel oppressive or harmful to BIPOC practitioners? La Sarmiento: Sitting with that, it’s bringing up the whole no-self teaching. The interpretation I’ve experienced from dominant culture folks is “None of these identities you have are important because we’re all one.” And my retort to that is “Well, whose one are we being?” The absolute truth is yes, we’re all one, but the relative truth is...

Foro: Budismo BIPOC (Personas negras, indígenas y de color)

Forum: BIPOC Buddhism

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