An Author for Justice: Using the Written Word to Promote Peace

By Shermeeka Mason

 

After a year of stepping back to do some much needed self-care, the desire to participate in local activism finally came back.

Since the month of April, I thought about many ways I could rejoin the Land of Radical Politics without burning myself out as I had done years prior.  I once volunteered my time for an organization that helps victims of illegal foreclosure remain in their homes.  I provided time and services for the group in 2011 and thought it’d be easy to slide back into resuming my duties.  But after one meeting (and the drama that followed with my romantic involvement with one of the members), I chose to remove myself from the group as I realized my heart wasn’t in it.

I continued to watch from the sidelines, posting political content on Facebook as an online activist. Due to untreated mental health and neurodivergent issues, however, I grew accustomed to hiding in the room I was renting at the time, living my political life through a computer screen.  Though I enjoyed sharing information on my page, I still felt as if I weren’t doing enough. Granted, I had my radio show every week and my co-hosts and I always discussed political content.  But I knew that it was only a matter of time before I had to venture beyond that platform.

I was unknowingly given the opportunity to do just that when I relocated to my Buddhist uncle Phill’s apartment. Thanks to my newly prescribed medication, I was better enough to to build a stable life and get involved in local politics. A week after getting settled, I heard about the Black Lives Matter rally taking place at the Liberty Pole here in Rochester. On July 9, I walked in the burning hot sun to the downtown area where the event took place.  I remember feeling exuberance and power as I marched with the other activists, my voice booming and exciting the crowd that repeated chants after me.  But I also recall the large presence of riot police who sat in their squad cars, suited up and prepared, meeting us protesters at one part of our designated route, batons in hand.  Then there were the videos posted on Facebook of cops pushing and shoving protesters, arresting seventy-four of them by the end of the night.

The combination of videos, the personal experiences friends posted on social media, and my own eye witness accounts of what occurred at the protest was the reason I recognized that the activists were being lied on by the Rochester Police Chief and the mayor. But it was the local, national, and independent media that angered me the most.  The information reported about the Black Lives Matter rallies and Black Lives Matter in general was completely inaccurate, oppressive, and in some cases, derogatory.  And I only knew this because I knew what happened.

And because I knew, there was no way I was going to let the public be misled by erroneous information about anything involving Black people.  So I wanted to do something—I just didn’t know what.  So I sat in front of my gohonzen and chanted for an answer, both in the morning and evening for two days.  The answer finally came in the form of a Huffington Post article featuring trans author and fellow Nichiren Buddhist Venus Selenite.  Regarding her intentions behind her new book trigger, she stated “I’ve already completed one of my goals which was to be a trans woman of color creating a volume of poetry and I’ve chanted and prayed on what this work will do in the world.”

After reading those words, I decided to use my skills as an author to be of service to the Rochester radical community.

From that moment on, I chanted to not only be granted the opportunity to write reports for local independent media outlets, but to use my novels and blogs I already have to speak the truth regarding politics, how it affects Black people, and how the entire human race can evolve politically and personally.  Morning and evening, I chant nam-myoho-renge-kyo for a full hour with the intent of using writing propagate accurate information and to do so creatively.

And I am now beginning to see benefits.  For those who don’t know, I am an independent author of a political science-fiction novel (the first of a three-part series) that highlights issues like capitalism, trafficking, and slavery. I not only receive positive reviews from friends, but from two fellow authors who recognized the political content of the novel—which is what I hoped for.  On Friday, July 22, I attended an event organized by a local Black activist organization that highlighted the mistreatment of protesters at the rally.  I heard from one of the members that the group had a newsletter and the person publishing it needed help.  So I was introduced to the publisher, gave him a brief synopsis of my writing experience, and expressed my intention to contribute to the newsletter. He, in turn, was grateful that someone wanted to collaborate with him and said I’m more than welcome to share ideas.   So I will not only be a member of this organization, but will be writing for the newsletter!

SGI President Daisaku Ikeda writes “The powerful may appear great, but in reality they are not.  Greatest of all are the ordinary people.  If those in power lead lives of idle luxury it is because the people are silent.  We have to speak out.  With impassioned words, we need to resolutely attack abuses of power that cause people suffering.  This is fighting on the side of justice.  It is wrong to remain silent when confronted with injustice.  Doing so in tantamount to supporting and condoning evil” (For Today and Tomorrow: Daily Encouragement, pg. 216).

I’ve always felt that politically-conscious artists have an obligation to use their craft to speak candidly about the injustices inflicted upon ordinary people and to do so responsibly.  For me, writing is another way to use a mode of communication I love to propagate information about our community, but doing so with the intent of connecting with the outside world. I wouldn’t have had the wisdom and courage to act were it not for my practice.

No Longer Ashamed: How Nichiren Buddhism Helped Me with Mental Illness

By Shermeeka Mason

 

Before I started practicing Nichiren Buddhism, I considered myself a Spiritualist.

While living in Buffalo, New York I was a member of the only Spiritualist churches in the East Aurora area.  Almost every Sunday, I sat in my usual spot in the second pew and listened to sermons about cause and effect, the Law of Attraction, and how thoughts were things that greatly influenced our existence—as well as our connection to the spirit realm.

The latter message was one that was preached to us often:  that our thoughts—both positive and negative—determine our quality of life.  That when we think negatively, the universe will respond accordingly and we as human beings are ultimately responsible for the outcome.  That was why positive thinking and focusing on abundance was paramount to truly moving our lives forward.

I recognize now that these sermons were about the power of cause and effect, but I didn’t realize that the Spiritualist definition was completely dissimilar to the one that resonates with me today.  Yet back then, I usually walked away from the service harboring a deep-seated indignity and discouragement.  Unbeknownst to the members, I was diagnosed with severe depression, anxiety, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, and (eventually) Inattentive Attention Deficit Disorder so I continuously struggled with negative thinking associated with emotion irregularities.  Even before becoming a Spiritualist, I practiced various religions while adopting portions of ideologies in order to combat symptoms unaddressed and therefore untreated.

So whenever I went to the lunch hour after the Spiritualist service, I observed fellow members and silently wondered if I were disappointing Spirit for my inability to “think abundance.”  I soon reached out to one of the leaders to gain clarity—excluding all information regarding my mental illness.  Her response was that my thoughts were as potent as speech and that any negative thinking would block my blessings, connection with Spirit, and greatly affect my relationships with other people.

I tried desperately to shift my thinking with meditation to prevent this from happening, but silence only invited more negative messages about me and my life condition (if I even have the wherewithal to maintain focus).  This alone confirmed the internalized belief that I was never meant to achieve happiness and serenity.

So when I was introduced to Nichiren Buddhism by a class presentation in one of my grad school courses, I pretty much divorced myself from any aspect of hope.  Yet the information presented, Michelle Joo’s experience on Buddha in America and the genuine kindness of Gail, a Buffalo member piqued my interest.  Though believing that happiness escaped me and feeling as if Spirit had completely left me, I found that I still possessed a sliver of hope within me.  Maybe this is what I need, I thought.

I attended my first SGI Youth discussion meeting with an understandable amount of anxiety and distrust. I was weary of the smiling faces owned by these complete strangers sitting at a table, automatically assuming that they will dislike me after intuiting my mental illness.  But the moment I sat in an empty chair, they immediately asked questions about me and why I was interested in the practice.  The discomfort I experienced slowly deteriorated as I began telling them my story, asking questions, and finally disclosing my struggles with mental illness.

Emi, the North Zone Youth Division Leader, responded with how proud she was of me, how glad she was to meet me before sharing her experience with depression associated with her mother’s suicide.  Instead of internalizing her pain, she utilized it to strengthen her practice and the mentor/disciple relationship with her mentor, SGI President Daisaku Ikeda.  Soon after, other members began to share honestly about their struggles and how chanting nam-moyho-renge-kyo ignited their inner wisdom to courageously face even the most desolate obstacles to take action on their own accord.

I’d NEVER heard of an ideology like this.  The religions I practiced over the years always taught me that I had to relinquish my personal and spiritual power over to a Higher Being.  Meaning that only Spirit can bless me with the existence I so desperately longed for.  These Nichiren Buddhist, however, were completely discrediting that particular ideology by stating that I have the capability to obtain the life I’ve always wanted—I just have to chant consistently, have faith in myself, and study with other members.

I left the discussion feeling validated and accepted for who I was at that moment—something I have never experienced at the Spiritualist church.  So I decided to try Nichiren Buddhism just to determine the validity of the practice, considering that I had nothing to lose other than the shred of sanity I managed to cling onto.  So I began chanting, becoming involved in youth activities, and actually started to see benefits.  I even received my gohonzon in the summer of 2013.

Despite all of this, my negative thinking became increasingly persistent.  Though logically aware that the members displayed no evidence of wanting to harm me, I still had suspected that it would only be a matter of time before they did. On top of dealing with a rising bout of anxiety induced paranoia, there was still the notion of expressing continuous joy in order to become a true Buddha.  And because of my mental illness, I was unable to do so.  Thus, I attended meetings thinking that everyone had the capability to be happy but me.

A suicide attempt and unforeseen life circumstances forced me to realize that none of that was accurate.  In fact, chanting nam-myoho-renge-kyo actually revealed to me why my mental illness was so profound over the years.  Besides being either undermedicated or not at all, I very rarely did I address my issues properly because I feared the personal accountability/responsibility needed to work towards being whole—despite undergoing years of therapy.  I instead heavily relied on people, places, situations, and Spirit to rescue me from my problems.

More importantly, though, I also acknowledged the bulk of my issues stemmed from unresolved childhood trauma and resented the fact that I was cleaning up a mess that I myself didn’t make.  But this practice taught me the power of cause and effect, that as an adult I’ve the ability to transform my life so I am no longer controlled by my past.  This fact required me to practice self-care that involved seeking professional help for my mental illness and neurodivergence.

Today, I am seeing an amazing therapist and psychiatrist—in addition to taking medication to manage my symptoms. I am able to concentrate, so I am able to chant consistently for an hour, meet with other members, and retain the information in the publication.  In the past, my depression and anxiety was so severe that I didn’t even chant—let alone leave the house.  But my fellow Buddhists were patient with me because some of them know of my struggles with mental illness and neurodivergence.  They didn’t encourage me to smile, “think abundance,” or get over it.  I was often told to come to the gohonzon as I am, so that was what I did and continue to do.

With the combination for my practice and receiving professional help, I am pretty much transformed me into the woman I’ve always wanted to be: beautiful, confident, strong, intelligent, creative, and a true bodhisattva of this Earth.

 

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