AS AN EVANGELICAL woman in leadership, I’m grateful for the good intentions of many white evangelical men in leadership. In the spaces where I move, many well-meaning folks are trying to be supportive of women, gender minorities, and people of color. They’re trying to be generous with the privileges their gender or race may give them.
While I’m grateful for the heart behind these attempts at support, in many evangelical and other Protestant circles, these kind intentions often perpetuate the dynamics they mean to discard. A speaker, while introducing me, tried to help by saying, “What she’s saying is really important, you should listen to her.” Though it was a kind thought, he maintained his position of power by establishing himself as an authority over my content.
In contrast, the actions of another leader truly added credibility to my leadership—he reacted to my content with the comment, “That was really powerful. You’ve given me a lot to think about.” His nonverbal communication showed that he was listening and learning. He modeled what it looks like to be under the leadership of a woman, and that was the greatest affirmation. He didn’t need to tell people that he was for women or that it was important to learn from different perspectives. He showed us.
Some folks say all the right words, but their actions undermine them—relegating people such as me, an Asian-American woman, to forever stay in a lane that is outside the norm, dependent on borrowed credibility.
Christian men: Work with other Christian men to make space for women’s voices, perspectives, and leadership. Ask other men what authors they’re reading—are women on the list? Ask each other: In this age of #MeToo and #ChurchToo movements, what are we doing in our specific spaces to combat a culture of sexual assault? Be proactive. Ask the hard questions about sexual-assault reporting policies or child care arrangements. Too often, the burden of asking these difficult, sometimes awkward questions falls to people at the margins. Ask the hard questions yourself.
Start with the people you know: Ask the women in your life one thing they wish men could understand about what it’s like to be a woman (or a gender minority or a person of color). Ask them about the things that they wish were true. Try to understand the amazing perspective they bring.
But don’t stop with the personal. What are the systems of privilege and power that create obstacles to the full participation and flourishing of women? What can you do to actively remove those obstacles?
One pastor, from an established and historic church, made his convictions about the necessity of women’s leadership into a requirement for where he would serve. When recruited by another church, his conviction required the denomination to revisit their policies before he could be hired. It was risky; a job offer was on the line. But I heard about his actions with gratitude, relief, and encouragement. I thought about the women who might rise up, and the fights they won’t have to fight, because of this pastor’s deep and unwavering commitment to women’s leadership.
Yet it doesn’t seem right to celebrate this one man when countless women are toiling invisible and unnoticed. Can you get close to the struggle of women as it’s being lived out today? In the pew in front of you, or in the cubicle next door, a warrior is living out her calling in courage and strength. Can you find her?
Nikki Toyama-Szeto is executive director of Evangelicals for Social Action at the Sider Center of Eastern University.
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