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In March of 1965, when the newly merged Unitarian Universalist Association was still in its relative infancy, a telegram arrived at the Association’s headquarters from the Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr. King was asking for concerned clergy and lay people to join him in Selma and help fight for civil rights in Alabama. The atmosphere was violent. No one would have blamed any our people if the call had been refused. But it was not. Many of our clergy and laity made the trip to Selma. Three of our brothers and sisters were murdered for their efforts. It is a story we still tell, a foundational myth in the story of “who we are.” We were, at an important moment in history, a boots-on-the-ground, hands-in-the-dirt tradition. The call to Alabama, and the murders of Reeb and Liuzzo, changed the course of the cause of civil rights.
It remains to be seen whether the passage of Arizona’s “show me your papers” law will be the turning point for immigration reform that the Selma to Montgomery marches were to the civil rights movement. Time will tell. However, what is clear now is that the recommendation of the current board of trustees of the UUA to withdraw the General Assembly from Phoenix in 2012 will do little in the long run to effect any real change in that state, or add anything of substance to the national debate over the status of the undocumented in this country.
Sure, boycotting Arizona has worked in the past. The boycott of the state over its failure to adopt the MLK holiday eventually helped bring the legislature around. However, the boycotter that everyone talks about isn’t us. It’s the NFL. The withdrawal of the Super Bowl XXVII from Tempe in protest over the state’s reticence was the nail in the coffin of those who protested a King holiday. Arizona was faced with an estimated $350 million loss in convention income, not to mention the loss of civic pride (and let’s not kid ourselves about how important a factor that can be). The legislature relented, passing the King holiday in 1992. Tempe was awarded Super Bowl XXX the following year.
Major league sports. Major league dollars. Major league civic ego stroking.
Dear friends, we bring none of this to the table. Sure, we boycotted Arizona, too. We know we did it. But I doubt highly there was anyone in a position of power in the entire state who was thinking, “Dammit, if we’ve lost the Unitarians, we’ve lost the country.”
If we’re being honest about what we, as a national movement, bring to the fight, we need to admit that a high profile national image on par with the National Football League (and the $$ that comes with that image) is not one of the arrows in our quiver. We will not, in the long run, accomplish anything by our absence. No one will notice.
But, our presence on the other hand . . .
When our boots are on the ground and our hands are in the dirt, we can do things. We can make noise. We can be seen. Our history has taught us that it’s what we do best. We have congregations in the state already fighting the good fight. Should we not demonstrate some solidarity? Is the work theirs alone by virtue of geography? We kicked off “Standing on the Side of Love” with an immigration rally last year. Why not do it again in the heart of the conflict? Why not invite the mayor of Phoenix, who’s choosing to fight the state, to join us in protest? Why not stand beside him and show some national support? One congregation in Phoenixis already asking us to come to the state later this month to join in ¡Alto Arizona!, a national day of protest at the state capital in Phoenix. We are being asked to come and help. Do we answer the call? Or do we just go on telling that story about that one time when we did that one thing?
What would our boycott accomplish, really? The argument is that it would have a financial impact on the state. Certainly the NFL withdrawal in the 90s proved the tactic effective. And, if smaller organizations like ourselves boycott in concert with allies, we can also have the same effect. However, the withdrawal of convention dollars affects not only the state, but also on working men and women, many of whom also oppose the legislation (and many — who we profess to stand on the side of — who run the risk of being adversely affected by it). In point of fact, a boycott runs the risk of being more detrimental to workers than to the state itself (and to our own limited resources), considering the price tag attached to withdrawal (somewhere in the neighborhood of $600,000). We’ve paid deposits, and we’ve paid taxes to the state already. Arizona’s got us coming or going. Why not, then, come and raise a ruckus?
Well, John, it’s because of all the individual dollars convention goers will add to the state’s coffers!
Yes, I’ve heard that argument, too. And that leads me to one last, uncomfortable truth about us. There’s an implicit underlying assumption in that argument about the way that we do GA. The assumption is that the cost of a General Assembly includes staying in nice hotels, eating out at good restaurants (or shelling out waaaay too much money for horrid convention center concessions). We like to have a good, pricey time while we’re in whatever city we’ve landed in each year. I count myself in that “we.” GA is part of my vacation, and I like to live it up a little. But I don’t have to. And neither do you.
We talk about reducing our carbon footprint at GAs. Why not attempt to reduce our economic footprint. Skip the W and stay at a cheap motel. Or pitch a tent. Bring a sack of peanut butter sandwiches. Or perhaps we could take on a day of public fasting?
Instead, it’s recommended we leave one place in favor of another place where we can continue to “do” GA in the manner to which we have become accustomed with a clear conscience. Friends, if we can only be in places that are sufficiently sympathetic to us, that pass some litmus test of acceptable attitude, we’re going to run out of places to be. If we can only conscience doing the work of our faith in places where we can afford to be “comfortable,” then we’re not doing the right work.
A boycott would be the equivalent of cheap grace. It’s too easy. We could all very easily say we didn’t go to Phoenix and pat ourselves on the back. That won’t cost us anything. The work we do should come with a price (and I’m not talking about dollars, here, folks). The work we do requires us to show up when we’re called. Remember that one time when we did that?
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