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Posts Tagged ‘American religious history’


I’m headed to Atlanta tomorrow for the annual meeting of the AAR/SBL (#aarsbl15). I’ll be on three panels, so here’s a sneak peek of each my talks. I’m discussing the 1920s Klan, labor, and academic freedom, which is a lot of ground to cover in one weekend.

Please feel free to say “hello,” especially all of you religious studies tweeps. It is always nice to meet folks in real time.

A21-102 Birth of A Nation A Century Later (Saturday, 9:00-11:00 am)

From “Birth of the Klan’s Nation”: The cross burned on top of Stone Mountain marked the beginning of a new Klan fighting to save a white Protestant nation….The robes and the fiery cross, the most recognizable artifacts of the Klan, materialized the order’s commitment to Protestantism and 100% Americanism. The Klan’s material culture tells the story of both their popularity and decline 100 years later. Their shared vision of white Protestant nation defended by Knights in robes no longer appeals as it once did, but it lingers still.

A21-201 How the University Works: A Roundtable on Labor in Religious Studies (Saturday, 1:00-3:30 pm)

From “Academic Waste”: Yet, after I finished the first chapter of How the University Works, I realized how wrong, and arrogant,  I was. What I accepted as facts about how higher ed functions prove to only be assumptions. Bousquet demonstrates that the job market is not actually a proper market but an illusion of one, which relies upon the casualization of labor for universities and colleges to run.

A22-105 Academic Freedom in Peril–And What to Do About It (Sunday, 9:00-11:30 am)

From “Silence and Speech”:  As I considered my response to this panel on academic freedom at the AAR, those two sentences from Lorde repeated in my head. I worked on other papers. I meet my deadlines. I built Lego castles with my kids, but her words wouldn’t dissipate. They captured my attention in the quiet. Were her words revelation, warning, or a strange mishmash of both? That silence doesn’t afford us any protection became the necessary beginning for my remarks on academic freedom in an age of contingency and precarity. Silence and the freedom to speak. Speech and the attempts to curtail it.


Fly Away

Last week, I was in Pennsylvania lecturing about doomsday scenarios: Tim LaHaye’s end-times theology and, of course, zombies. Today, after three flights, I’m finally in Minnesota, where it is currently 39 degrees. I only had to run through the airport in Charlotte, but that’s a fairly normal occurrence at that particular airport (at least this time I wasn’t pregnant and nauseous, which is a story for another day.)

I’m cold and possibly shivering, but pretty happy to be visiting Concordia College. I even get to meet my Twitter buddy, David Creech, in person. I’m presenting the Religion enrichment lecture to a couple hundred undergrads, and I’m talking about ethics and (in)humanity in zombie apocalypses: Zombieland, Warm Bodies, The Walking Dead, and more. Here’s a not-so-secret secret: I love talking zombies to anyone who will listen. This is fun yet serious lecture, and I even get to visit classes and interact with students. I’m pretty much nerding out for a full day on zombies. How lucky am I?

October tends to be a busy month because I am a scholar of zombies and darker registers of American religions. So far, I’ve written about zombies, apocalypticism, academic waste, Hell Houses, the Klan, and more zombies. Killing the Buddha published an excerpt of The Zombies Are Coming! today on zombies and guns.

The blog has been quiet because my deadlines piled up with public lectures, regular assignments, and travel. With Halloween in striking distance, my work appears relevant and pressing. I’m trying to learn to capitalize on the season. Yay? (Maybe.)

I’m not complaining. It is good to be busy, and I’m grateful that folks want to hear me speak about topics near and dear.

I’m just tired of airplanes.



This review first appeared at the Bulletin for the Study of Religion blog in December of 2012. Since Twilight turned 10 this week, I thought it might be time to direct you all to Tanya Erzen’s excellent ethnography of Twilight fans.

In 2008, I picked up the Twilight series because my youngest sister, then a teenager, happened to be reading them. I had just sent my dissertation to my advisor for final edits, and I wanted to read something that was not related to the Klan, hate groups, or American religions more generally. I wanted to read fluff. A series of novels about an ordinary human girl, a vegetarian vampire “mainstreaming,” and a handsome teen werewolf embroiled in a tortured love triangle seemed to fit the bill. Thus, I turned to Stephenie Meyer’s increasingly popular Twilight novels for casual reading. After finishing Twilight, I rushed to (now defunct) Borders to buy Eclipse.

Much like other women, teenagers or adults, I consumed these books, and so did both of my sisters and my mother. We read them, we talked about them, we criticized them, and we reread them. Despite the bad prose and melodramatic storyline, something about the books managed to appeal to all of us. What was it about the series that drew us in? What kept us reading? Why did we all hate Breaking Dawn? What vision of the world did we consume by embracing this fantasy? What did fandom suggest about us and the series? (more…)

Gendering Contingency in Religious Studies

This paper was my contribution to a roundtable on contingency in religious studies at the annual AAR meeting. I talked through the paper rather than read it as written, so you miss my bad jokes , wild gestures, and animated facial expressions. What is striking to note is that the small audience was all contingent workers, who were mostly women. There were two men on our panel of five. Contractual labor needs gender analysis. Let’s hope this starts a much-needed discussion.

Gendering Contingency in Religious Studies at #sblaar14

I’ve only had contingent positions. I started adjuncting as a graduate student for extra money and continued adjuncting at multiple institutions in multiple states until I received a full-time non-tenure track job in 2011. I’ve taught at community colleges and big state universities, and for a long time, I taught heavy course loads while keeping up my research and searching for a tenure track job. I quit my lecturer job because I no could handle the strain of contractual work. Now I’m a freelance writer. I’ll say it again: I have only had contingent positions.

This shouldn’t necessarily be surprising since contingency is now the norm, rather than the exception despite the what the AAR/SBL jobs report tries to suggest. The AAUP notes that 76% of the instructional positions at American universities and colleges are non-tenure track. Since 1975 tenured and tenure track positions are up by 26% while part-time appointments are up 300%. My story and the stories of my fellow panelists illuminate the reliance (or dare I say over reliance?) on contractual labor in higher ed and within religious studies. Yet, I don’t want to talk today about contingency generally. Instead, I want to direct our attentions to the relationship between the casualization of labor and gender.

It first occurred to me that contingent labor might be gendered at non-tenure track faculty reception at my old university. My fellow lecturer (also a woman) and I entered a room filled with many, many women and few men. Our university was trying hard to be equitable to those off the tenure-track, and the reception was a meet and greet with one of the vice presidents, who was establishing a system for promotion for lecturers. I was struck by the abundance of women in lecturer positions from all over the university, not just the humanities.

Usually, when critics lament the adjuntification of higher education, neither gender nor race are prominently discussed. While contingent labor is a clearly problem for the modern university that learned societies like AAR must react to, it is not a problem that affects everyone equally. What does it mean for religious studies and the AAR if contingency is a problem that overwhelming affects women? How does, or should, this change our approaches to contractual labor within our discipline? More importantly, what does this suggest about the gender politics of religious studies more broadly?


Klansmen, Zombies, End Times, Oh My!

Over at the Bulletin for the Study of Religion blog, there is a “thorough” interview with me on Gospel According to the Klan, methods and pedagogy. There is also a good dose of apocalypticism and zombies minus any discussion of recent spate of news stories about face-eating. Here’s an excerpt:

How did you get started on researching Gospel According to the Klan?

This project grew out of my personal experiences growing up in the South, as well as a natural outgrowth of my academic work. I grew up in a small town in the Florida panhandle. Back in the 1990s, when I was in high school, there was a Klan rally in a nearby town. What I found most interesting about this was the nervousness that everyone seemed to feel, and display, about it. Not just that there might be violence (as it was also said that the Black Panthers planned a rally simultaneously in this same town), but also the attempt to tamp down the tawdriness of the reputation of the Klan, as it might get attached, or re-attached, to these people and places. “It’s in the past… it’s behind us,” was the basic attitude. While many people wanted to nostalgically hold onto some parts of the Southern past, the Klan represented a part of that past from which they wanted as much distance as possible. 

As a scholar of religion, I’ve been intrigued by the ways in which groups like this tend to be understood in my field of study. It is often assumed that religious people we do not like are relatively easy to figure out and are thus not worth a lot of study, whereas people we do like are worth knowing more about. More, we tend to assume that ‘bad people’ equate to ‘bad evidence’ that necessarily invokes skepticism, while ‘good people’ equate to ‘good evidence’ that we can take at face value. I’m interested in studying and understanding not only the “unloved groups” themselves, but also how we tend to think about them, how we reify such groups and how so doing obscures much more than it tells us analytically. So, in writing Gospel According to the Klan, I wanted to produce a study that unsettles academic norms as to what counts as acceptable research subjects. What objects are worth study? What are not? Where do we draw those lines? What’s at stake when we do so, when we categorize things as ‘good data’ or ‘bad data’? Quite often these judgments tell us more about the researchers who made them than about their actual subjects.

Read more at the Bulletin blog. Cross-posted from Religion in American History.