A Boomer’s Praise for Millennials

Thoughts From Tom Glenn, Chair of The Wilbur and Hilda Glenn Family Foundation.

Born in 1947, I am a scant one year younger than the very oldest of the Baby Boomers. I have been followed by X’s, Y’s, and now Millennials. Though once proud of my prowess with Lotus 1-2-3, floppy discs, and dot matrix printers, I find myself challenged by social media, the electronic gadgetry in my car, and some of the responses I get from Siri. Siri sounds like an Xer, but I’m afraid to ask.

I have become intrigued by Millennials. Though jokes about their idiosyncrasies abound (check out “Millennial Job Interview”), I see some traits in these younger folks that I think bode well for the future. Notably, they seem more focused on societal values than on social institutions, and I consider this a very good thing.

Former Vermont governor Howard Dean recently opined that “the Trump election was essentially a negation of every value that young people have … [however] these people are not Democrats.” Political perspectives aside, it is apparent that Millennials are not the “joiners” that we Boomers are. Their allegiance to political parties is not nearly as strong, and the same is apparent where religious affiliation is concerned.

In The Decline of White Christian America, Robert P. Jones provides data showing the relationship between Americans’ ages and their likelihood of affiliating with religious sects. As of 2014, only 18% of the 65-and-older group in a sizeable sample indicated that they were “unaffiliated,” or they replied that they didn’t know or refused to answer. This number climbs to 20% for ages 50-64, 27% for 30-49, and to a whopping 41% for the 18-29 group. Where we Boomers may have become Republicans or Methodists “because that’s what Mama and Daddy were,” Millennials are apparently less inclined to do so.

Recently, three Millennial women, Hamdi Abdi, Brittani Magee, and Amanda Wolkin, made a beautiful joint statement on behalf of interfaith cooperation. Prior to this collaboration, they had published their respective views, separately, as follows:

Hamdi Abdi, a Muslim, made observations about how she and other interfaith advocates “held monthly dinner discussions about the common threads that ran through the participants’ faith traditions regarding themes such as love, justice, liberation, etc.” Brittani Magee, a Christian, pointed out that “while we may not agree with each other, I believe that having respect and compassion for others should be the lens from which we interact with our fellow humans.” Amanda Wolkin, a Jew, emerged from an interfaith experience with the following observation – “Before long, I realized one simple truth: although our faiths were different, our values were not. These kind people had become my family, no matter our belief systems.”

It appears that these three Millennials are focusing on “beliefs” more than “belief systems.” Undeniably, they have a genuine commitment to their respective religious faiths, yet they refuse to let any interpretation of religious dogma obscure the importance of respect for the dignity of all human beings.

I salute these women for their attitudes, and I respect Millennials’ willingness to probe the values underlying our social institutions. True, some Millennials may not probe the rationale for having a lug wrench in the car, but when it comes to selling them on a political party or a religious position, they are more likely to ask, where’s the beef? (to use an ancient Boomer expression). Perhaps they will force the rest of us to probe a little more deeply. And I thank them for that.

 

What Does Interfaith Engagement Mean to Religious Millennials? Joint Response From Brittani Magee, Amanda Wolkin and Hamdi Abdi

The perspective of seasoned Atlanta community and faith leaders within the discussion of interfaith engagement is invaluable. But it is equally important to shine a light on new, fresh voices in this conversation. To this end, we are excited to introduce a four-part blog series sharing the thoughts of three young interfaith leaders in AtlantaBrittani Magee, Amanda Wolkin, and Hamdi Abdi met during a dialogue dinner at Emory University’s Candler School of Theology last spring and come from varying religious backgrounds. They will each be tapping into their unique perspectives as religious young adults to discuss what interfaith engagement means to them within today’s social, political, and societal context. Be sure to stay tuned for the fourth, final post in this series detailing their collaborative call to action for the Atlanta interfaith community.


JOINT RESPONSE

In our last few articles, you’ve read three very different stories: one from a Jew navigating the waters of the professional world, one from a Muslim seasoned in interfaith dialogue, and the last from a Christian studying at the Candler School of Theology. And while we all come from different perspectives, we share two common threads: 1) we are millennials, and 2) we care about interfaith dialogue.

Our generation tends to get the brunt of bad stereotypes – that we don’t look up from our phones, that we’re too caught up in ourselves to care about issues in the world. And yet, the three of us met doing the exact opposite. We put ourselves out there to strangers, eager to exchange in intercultural dialogue and understanding. We began as strangers, with nothing but stilted conversation starters and plates of falafel between us, and emerged as religious millennials eager to 1) understand, and 2) encourage others to do the same.

Albert Einstein once said that “Peace cannot be kept by force; it can only be achieved by understanding.” Within our country, religious intolerance seems to be woven into the hearts of many who fear the beliefs of the “other.” So we wondered: what can be done to broaden the perceptions of certain religions, when only a small group of voices are heard?

So here is our call to millennials: let’s get out there. Let’s engage. And let’s take action. Living in a multicultural society, it is not a question of if but when will we encounter someone whose worldview is very different from our own. As such, we invite you to join in the conversation with hopes that it can breed understanding, compassion and respect for those who are different. Think it will be hard? Here are a few starting tips:

Engage in Open Conversation: We get it – Interfaith dialogue can be scary and uncomfortable. That’s why there’s a set of rules, developed by the Former Dean of Religious Life of Emory, Susan Henry-Crowe, to encourage open conversation. The highlights include:

  • Honor each person’s identity, whether that’s diet, dress or modesty.
  • Carefully articulate differences while affirming each religious group.
  • Encourage positivity and build trusting relationships.
  • Pray in the presence of “other,” but don’t expect all to pray together.

Don’t Let “Religion” Scare You: Not everyone is religious – but that shouldn’t stop you from engaging in conversation. Whether you’re atheist, agonistic, or just plain unsure, join the dialogue. We can all learn from each other.

Attend Local Events: There are events all around the city meant to encourage these conversations. Start with Georgia Tech’s Leadership and Multifaith Program’s (LAMP) upcoming symposium in February 2018, “Religious and Scientific Perspectives on the Future of Life.” See https://lamp.iac.gatech.edu/ for more details.

Check out the Resources: Believe it or not, there are resources all around Atlanta to encourage conversations – and millennials are always invited. A sampling of them are below (but you can always find more on this blog):

  • AIB-TV: Atlanta’s interfaith television and video network.
  • The Faith Alliance of Metro Atlanta: An organization whose mission is to promote respect and unity among diverse faiths in the Atlanta region.
  • Neshama Interfaith Center: A center designed to build a community for exploration and spiritual growth.
  • Compassionate Atlanta: A grassroots movement that seeks to raise awareness about the benefits of compassionate action.
  • Interfaith Community Initiatives: An interfaith organization that provides interactive experiences engaging individuals and organizations to strengthen community relations and resolve conflict peaceably.

And Know You’re Not Alone: Starting to engage in interfaith dialogue can be scary and uncomfortable. But you’re not alone in your quest for understanding. The three of us did it – and so can you.

What Does Interfaith Engagement Mean to Religious Millennials? Response from Hamdi Abdi

The perspective of seasoned Atlanta community and faith leaders within the discussion of interfaith engagement is invaluable. But it is equally important to shine a light on new, fresh voices in this conversation. To this end, we are excited to introduce a four-part blog series sharing the thoughts of three young interfaith leaders in AtlantaBrittani Magee, Amanda Wolkin, and Hamdi Abdi met during a dialogue dinner at Emory University’s Candler School of Theology last spring and come from varying religious backgrounds. They will each be tapping into their unique perspectives as religious young adults to discuss what interfaith engagement means to them within today’s social, political, and societal context. Be sure to stay tuned for the fourth, final post in this series detailing their collaborative call to action for the Atlanta interfaith community.


RESPONSE FROM HAMDI ABDI

Describing what “interfaith” is in explicit terms is a fairly difficult task. It’s tough to envision a scenario where you can neatly package everything that makes up the belief system that is Islam or Judaism or Christianity and meaningfully enmesh it with another similarly complicated belief. However, I’m still a huge believer in interfaith work and engagement because of the direct impact it has had on my life and my understanding of myself and others.

My undergrad at Trinity College was a dark time for me. By my sophomore year, I was engulfed in feelings of isolation that made even leaving my dorm a trying task, and I had a habit of dropping out of my friends’ lives for weeks when I felt overwhelmed that did not help matters. I told myself it was just how I coped with the stress, but I actually had no idea what was going on with me. It took no shortage of individuals to pull me up to where I could stand once again, but the person that helped me make the best sense of it was the college chaplain. At Trinity we had an Interfaith House (formally the Charleston House of Interfaith Cooperation) where we held monthly dinner discussions about the common threads that ran through the participants’ faith traditions regarding themes such as love, justice, liberation, etc. The conversations were insightful, the food we catered was delicious, and a fun time was had by all. To be honest, I’ve forgotten most of what was said, but what was lasting was the sense of community I felt in that time and the relationships I made. I met Chaplain Allison Read through the House, who talked me through a crisis I had never experienced in my bubble of a home in Georgia. There was nothing missing between us or impeding her from reaching through to me. And there was no pressure or competition to grapple our faiths against each other. It was just us communicating.

It’s easy for people to commune over having similar identities, including religious identity. It’s much more difficult to do that in terms of knowledge. At the House, we all made a commitment to come together and learn from each other and at least my life has been richer for it. I ultimately hope to continue developing the same sort of compassion and understanding for others that these people had for me because this interfaith experience changed my life.


 

Hamdi Abdi is a graduate of Madina Institute Seminary and Trinity College, in which both she found a home in great ideas and even greater people. She credits her undergrad for introducing her to interfaith as a concerted practice through three years at the Charleston House of Interfaith Cooperation and black women for everything else. She believes an empathetic understanding of people is necessary for meaningful progress towards a more just world, which is more work than she bargained for. But she’s willing to make it work.

What Does Interfaith Engagement Mean to Religious Millennials? Response from Amanda Wolkin

The perspective of seasoned Atlanta community and faith leaders within the discussion of interfaith engagement is invaluable. But it is equally important to shine a light on new, fresh voices in this conversation. To this end, we are excited to introduce a four-part blog series sharing the thoughts of three young interfaith leaders in AtlantaBrittani Magee, Amanda Wolkin, and Hamdi Abdi met during a dialogue dinner at Emory University’s Candler School of Theology last spring and come from varying religious backgrounds. They will each be tapping into their unique perspectives as religious young adults to discuss what interfaith engagement means to them within today’s social, political, and societal context. Be sure to stay tuned for the fourth, final post in this series detailing their collaborative call to action for the Atlanta interfaith community.


RESPONSE FROM AMANDA WOLKIN

Two years ago, with only a bag, a passport, and a blind sense of adventure, I boarded a 27-hour flight to Malaysia. At the time, I didn’t know where I’d be living, who I’d be teaching, or how I’d fare over the next 10 months as a Fulbright grantee. Would I like the food? Would I get along with my school community? And – as the lingering voice of fear in my head reminded me – would I feel safe as a Jew in a Muslim community?

Before I got off the plane, I made the decision to keep my religious identity a secret. I told myself it was a matter of safety when, in reality, it was a matter of dialogue. Over the next year, as I lived and worked in a Muslim community, I learned extensively about the Islamic faith. I dressed in traditional baju kurung, accompanied my students to their family Iftars, and began asking questions about the Qur’an. Before long, I realized one simple truth: although our faiths were different, our values were not. These kind people had become my family, no matter our belief systems.

Before I left, I sat down with my closest friend, a Muslim co-teacher, and told her I was Jewish. She sat, stared, and then wrapped me in a hug. I was the first Jew she had ever met. Coming back to America, I was determined to continue engaging in this interfaith dialogue. After all, in a political climate when so much is misunderstood or overgeneralized, it’s essential to truly engage in these conversations. Behind the labels, we are all people: people to listen to, learn from, and understand together.


Amanda Wolkin is passionate about education and writing: two fields that have led her quite literally around the world. While an Atlanta native, Amanda studied Creative Writing and Urban Education at the University of Pennsylvania before embarking on a Fulbright English Teaching Assistantship in Malaysia. In the small town of Kuching, Sarawak, Amanda taught creative writing to middle school students and eventually launched the first English-language writing competition sponsored by the U.S. Embassy. Since moving back to Atlanta, Amanda has worked extensively in both the non-profit and marketing sector. She now combines these skillsets as a content strategist at Jackson Spalding, where she advises on social strategy and non-profit/corporate social responsibility marketing.

What Does Interfaith Engagement Mean to Religious Millennials? Response from Brittani Magee

The perspective of seasoned Atlanta community and faith leaders within the discussion of interfaith engagement is invaluable. But it is equally important to shine a light on new, fresh voices in this conversation. To this end, we are excited to introduce a four-part blog series sharing the thoughts of three young interfaith leaders in AtlantaBrittani Magee, Amanda Wolkin, and Hamdi Abdi met during a dialogue dinner at Emory University’s Candler School of Theology last spring and come from varying religious backgrounds. They will each be tapping into their unique perspectives as religious young adults to discuss what interfaith engagement means to them within today’s social, political, and societal context. Be sure to stay tuned for the fourth, final post in this series detailing their collaborative call to action for the Atlanta interfaith community.

RESPONSE FROM BRITTANI MAGEE

In a world that is more interconnected than any other time in human history, I have observed that many people continue to perceive “the other” in stereotypical or uninformed ways. Nigerian writer, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie said it best in her TED Talk, “The Danger of a Single Story,” where she notes that the problem with stereotypes is not that they are untrue, but that they are incomplete. They make one story become the only story. While this observation can be applicable in many contexts, it is particularly accurate in the context of faith. As a Christian seminary student, I have experienced my share stereotypes, harsh critiques and uncomfortable conversations. On many instances when I tell someone that I am a theology student, somehow in their mind I transform from being an average person to embodying every wrong thing that the church has ever done. I must also be an expert on the most minute details of scripture and be prepared to provide definitive insight into the most polarizing of topics.

So often in these moments I wish that the person would be willing to pause and hear what my faith means to me. From their perspective, faith and belief systems are corrupt and divisive. On the contrary, I have found that faith has brought me a joy, freedom and compassion for others that I would not have thought possible. In place of the bitterness and self-loathing that shrouded my mind as an adolescent, when I felt God’s presence for the first time, it was like breathing air after drowning for so long. What humbled me was not just that God saw me and understood me when no one else did, but that God loved me enough not to leave me where I was. What has followed since then has been a journey filled with highs and lows, victories and defeats, joys and sorrows. Yet unlike before, I am not journeying by myself; God is with me in my moments where I am soaring among mountain tops but also when I have reached the deepest pit of despair. That is what my faith means to me.

Consequently, I find that it is imperative that I engage in interfaith dialogue with others. Not as a means of arguing or coming to a specific conclusion, but to allow a space where the voices and experiences of individuals in other faiths can be shared. By simply allowing our perceptions of the “other” to be gleaned from the media, we reflexively will come to simplistic conclusions that perpetuate stereotypes, fear and mistrust. Faith has a way of not only shaping our perceptions of the self but also how we perceive and interact with the world. While we may not agree with each other, I believe that having respect and compassion for others should be the lens from which we interact with our fellow humans. As Sojourner Truth so aptly stated, “Religion without humanity is very poor human stuff.”


Brittani Glynn Magee is a third year Masters of Divinity student at Emory University. Magee attended Agnes Scott College as an undergraduate majoring in International Relations, where she developed an interest in studying how women contributions to peace negotiations impact reconciliation in post conflict societies. Both her classroom and study abroad experiences have helped her identify various patterns and connections between women empowerment and communal reconciliation. Her master’s program has enabled her to pursue a theological study of justice and peacebuilding while also actively addressing the needs of marginalized communities, such as refugees and women. One such way she hopes to achieve this is through the power of storytelling as a method to bridge the cultural and religious gaps within divided communities. In addition to her interests in post-conflict reconciliation and women empowerment, Magee enjoys painting canvases and playing with her Yorkie puppy, Koda.