Vaishali Mamgain's Articles on Lions Roar

"To whom does the dharma belong?" asks Vaishali Mamgain, Ph.D, as she explores the ways colonization and white supremacy have appropriated the dharma and other wisdom traditions. She looks at how both BIPOC can stay true to their spiritual practice, and how white sanghas can face and divest themselves of continuing injustices. In the current season of Indian Idol, there is a singing sensation — a young man who shines shoes for a living. He works outside of a bus station in a small town in Punjab, India. With no formal training, Sunny, a Hindu, sings Sufi songs made famous by the late legendary Sufi singer, Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan, who also happened to be both Muslim and Pakistani. When he was eleven, Sunny visited a dargah (a Sufi shrine) and heard a qawwali (utterances of the Prophet sung in rapturous devotion.) Completely captivated, he began to imitate what he heard. He began his work as a shoeshine boy in the sixth grade when his father died and his mother started selling balloons. He’s had no singing lessons, and yet, when he sings, the judges, veteran singers and newbies of Indian Idol weep. His connection to spirit is palpable. What distinguishes genuine engagement in a culture from appropriation? Throughout the world, we are currently seeing protests against systemic racism and exclusion, sparked by the death of George Floyd, an unarmed Black man killed by police in Minneapolis on May 25. There is an underlying story of looting and appropriation to these protests — not the looting and burning down of storefronts in many cities, but the unacknowledged taking and profiting from the culture and wisdom of oppressed peoples. When I look at India, I am curious — what distinguishes genuine engagement in a culture from appropriation? In the case of Indian Idol, is Sunny appropriating Sufi traditions, or is he joining the wisdom lineage of Sufi singers? Coming of Age in India. When I came of age in India, I had no interest in anything spiritual. I first picked up the Bhagvad Gita at the age of 15. Its emphasis on renouncing the ego seemed to smack of my parents’ propaganda, which I saw as highfalutin words trying to snuff out the rebellious teenager in me. Although my parents were Hindus, culturally I was steeped in many traditions. I loved visiting Sikh temples, preferring the simplicity, emphasis on equality, and excellent halwah to the chaos, hierarchy, and mixed quality of prasad in Hindu temples. My own name, Vaishali, is a place where the Buddha taught often. One of the most famous Buddhist scriptures, the Vimalakirti Sutra, played out here. My sister’s name, Vishakha, is famous in the buddhadharma as well. We were both named by my grandmother, who had never traveled to Bodhgaya, knew very little formal buddhadharma, and just happened to name us from the Buddhist canon. That’s what happens when you live in a culture where different spiritual traditions meet and permeate each other. You name someone, and it’s no big deal. No one questions whether it’s appropriation. Appropriation or Devotion? To whom does the dharma belong? The bar for “ownership” of the buddhadharma is set by the Buddha himself: those with compassion, wisdom, and a benefitting mind. As quoted Thinley Norbu’s Magic Dance, the historical Buddha once said to his followers: “My fearless lion’s dharma throne does not have an owner. The one who has compassion, who has wisdom mind, who has a benefitting mind, this one is the holder of my lineage and can sit upon my throne.” The Oxford English Dictionary defines appropriation as “the unacknowledged or inappropriate adoption of the customs, practices, ideas etc. of one people or society by members of another and typically more dominant people or society.” In the context of the United States, “dominant people” clearly refers to the white majority. So, I ask, are white sanghas engaging in appropriation or genuine engagement? The Subtleties of Appropriation. While it may be easy to discern more obvious ways of appropriation, there are subtleties that may not show themselves because they are so embedded in the socioeconomic, political milieu we live in. I mention two: The Crowding Out Effect. In India, it is terrifically difficult to get a spot in a 10-day Vipassana meditation retreat. This is because, of the 1.2 billion people in India, anyone who is interested can apply, does apply, and vies for a spot with everyone else interested. A young friend of mine recently finished a retreat in Iggatpuri, India and upon her return said, “It wasn’t Eat, Pray, Love! Nobody was wearing yoga pants. There were people from all walks of life, all ages, all socioeconomic strata...” She was deeply moved and grateful for the equalizing experience – 300 people working with their minds! Even in a retreat setting, BIPOC are often seen as not quite belonging. Why are Buddhist retreats in the US so homogenous – white, and affluent? To understand this, I turn to writer Eula Bliss who explains how well-meaning white parents unwittingly help perpetuate racist practices in schools by pushing for their children to be in Advanced Placement (AP) classes. On the face of it, it seems simple – if my children are “gifted,” they deserve to be in AP classes. However, since seats in AP classes are limited, an equally talented nonwhite child might be excluded, because their parents aren’t heard in the school system. Bliss calls this “opportunity hoarding,” and a parallel exists to Buddhist retreats in the US. White people in the US have a tremendous advantage — in schools, hospitals, government, corporations — they are used to being heard and accommodated. This manifests as a confidence that they deserve the dharma. They are at ease signing up for retreats and asking for financial help if they need it. They are confident that, when they walk into a dharma center, almost all the people there will look like them. I’ve heard white practitioners say “Well, BIPOC aren’t really interested, otherwise they would be here.” This is a double whammy. First, all of the spots are often taken by assertive, keen, white dharma practitioners. Second, we are living in an economic system that gives inordinate financial power to white folks in comparison to BIPOC. The majority of dharma programs are expensive, and require attendees to take time off of work or school. Even in such a setting, BIPOC are often seen as not quite belonging. In India too, people have to leave work and other commitments to attend 10-day retreats, but there is a staggering diversity of folks who apply. This is because of an embodied understanding and experience that dharma is a resource that is accessible to everyone. Some dharma centers in the US are trying to address this by offering greater access and scholarships and amplify the voices of BIPOC teachers, but much work remains to be done to address the reality that access to these traditions is often for the few who have the money and time to attend. Affirmative Action? Another way in which appropriation manifests is the way in which POC are perceived within sanghas. Buddhist teachers of Black African descent tell stories of being invited to teach at a sangha and when they arrive, being met with perplexed looks because the white sangha is so unused to seeing a person of Black African descent in the role of a Buddhist teacher. Personally, I’ve been very lucky. When I found the buddhadharma, it made sense to me and I had resources to pursue it. I dived in, and studied and practiced under the strict and caring tutelage of my teacher, a Tibetan Buddhist who has a deep respect for Indian wisdom traditions. A few years after joining the sangha, my teacher appointed me to lead our study and practice. I was one of four “study leaders” — the only woman and only POC. This was completely unexpected for me, having been a student for a mere four years, and for my sangha sisters and brothers, many of whom had been studying with our teacher for decades. A fellow student, and dear friend — white and male — came to me after the ceremony and said, “You know you are the Affirmative Action hire, don’t you?” I was stunned into silence. I’m certain that if I was a white male appointed as a Study Leader after four years, my friend would have assumed that it was my brilliance that led to this appointment. But instead, my friend who worked assiduously to remove his personal obscurations resorted to a deeply racist trope. I had no way of making sense of this encounter. What I did know, even then, was there was a sense of spaciousness I could draw on: I came from a tradition that had engendered in me a deep and instinctive faith and devotion to the dharma and my teachers. I was a college professor with a PhD in economics — I had been kicking white male ass my whole life. And yet, years later, I remember this comment. To me, it speaks to a lack of awareness of the groundwater that he, I, and all of us are swimming in: seeing POC being elevated to a leadership role as an Affirmative Action hire even when they might be the most qualified person for that role. This takes the ignominy of spiritual appropriation and gives it yet another twist — the conflation of white supremacy and the dharma. The dominant majority takes someone else’s traditions and practices, and then overlays it with an unexamined racist hierarchy which only sees white people as worthy leaders. Yes, the dharma exhorts us to be wise and compassionate. However, if we keep working on only our own personal obscurations and don’t examine and redress the inequities of the systems in which we are embedded, dharma in the West will be an appropriation. An appropriation overlaid with patriarchy, racism, and various oppressions that rest in our alaya. A Story of Colonization Told in Two Parts. Colonization: Part I. I heard this story in Bodhgaya: It’s the late 19th century, and the British colonial masters have heard there is a “Vajra Seat,” or Diamond Throne in Bodhgaya. They decide to excavate...

Can Wisdom Traditions Be Colonized?

TEACHINGS

LIFE

EXPLORE BUDDHISM

NEWS