Tsomo, Karma Lekshe

H-Buddhism Tsomo, Karma Lekshe

Page published by A. Charles Muller on Tuesday, January 15, 2019 Gaps in Buddhist Studies: Integrating Scholarship and Social Activism

Karma Lekshe Tsomo University of San Diego

Reaching through time, how we wish we could know more about earlier generations of Buddhist women scholars and practitioners. Sadly, their stories are hidden in the shadows of histories dominated by men. Only in recent decades, in the transmission of Dharma to new lands and its revitalization in Asia, are some of these stories coming to light. Studies on the lives of Buddhist women and the issues that concern them are now gaining wider currency and being deemed worthy of publication. Here I share my own experience, in case it may benefit even one sentient being. Since childhood, certain philosophical questions have fascinated me. Growing up in Malibu, California, in the 1950s – surfing, exploring, and getting into mischief – questions about life, injustice, and the weirdness of human beings continued to perplex me. I also asked inconvenient questions: “If a God exists, why can’t I see it?” “If Jesus told his followers to give up everything and follow him, why are people wearing mink coats to church?” “Why are people so unkind to each other?” When I asked, “What happens to us after we die?” I was told, “If you’re good, you go to heaven. If you’re bad, you go to hell.” Since I was quite mischievous, always challenging the boundaries, this answer was problematic for me. Are heaven and hell the only options? Matters of life and death, good and bad, had to be more complex than that! I remember my brother and I arguing endlessly about the question, “How do we know that what you see and call ‘red’ is the same as what I see and call ‘red?’” Only years later did we learn that he was color blind. Challenging preconceptions became a lifelong endeavor.

Buddhist Beginnings

I began learning about Buddhism when I was quite young. The opportunity opened up quite naturally because my German family name was

Zenn, pronounced as in Zen Buddhism. Even though I was born and raised in the United States, this auspicious name led me directly to the teachings of the Buddha. The children at school used to tease me about being Buddhist, so I had to find out what it was. It was really difficult to get information about Buddhism in English in the 1950s, but I finally found two books: The Way of Zen by Alan Watts and Zen Buddhism by D. T. Suzuki. As I read these books, light bulbs began to go off in my head. Phrases like “life is defined by death” and “motion is defined by stillness” leapt from the pages. Every page was full of wisdom and presented credible responses to many questions. I found Buddhism compelling because it encourages critical thinking and requires no adherence to dogma. Hence, at the age of twelve, to the horror of my Southern Baptist mother, I declared that I was a Buddhist. Buddhist teachers were few in the West in the early 1960s, so at the age of 19, disappointed by American culture, I took my surfboard and boarded a ship for Yokohama. In Japan, I met up with some Japanese American friends and we began surfing the sweet waves of Chiba peninsula. When winter came and it started snowing, I found my way to a small temple in Tokyo and began meditating. The fragrant incense, deep quietude, and peace of meditation felt like coming home. Without a teacher or spiritual friends, it was a lonely path, so a year later, I set out for India. One night aboard ship, somewhere between Saigon and Singapore, I had a vivid dream of myself in robes, surrounded by a vibrant, joyous spiritual community. Inspired by the dream, I resolved to become a monk, and then grudgingly realized that was impossible for a woman. It was years before I became committed to being “just” a nun. I continue to this day to be intrigued by the question: why is the popular image of a monk so much more appealing than the image of a nun? For another year, I traveled through Malaysia, Thailand, Cambodia, Nepal, India, and Sri Lanka. In Nepal, I met Tibetans, arriving in caravans from beyond the Himalayas and learned to chantOm Mani Padme Hum, expressing a wish for the well-being and awakening of all living beings. In each country, I searched for a monastery that welcomed women, but never found one. After two years of wandering, I returned to the United States and began studying Japanese at the University of California, Berkeley, where I took classes on Buddhism with Lewis Lancaster. I still remember the stick drawing that he used to explain the five aggregates and I use it in my classes today.

During the 1960s, I marched to protest the injustices of racism and war, and became idealistically committed to relieving the sufferings of the world. I continued to seek answers to the mystery surrounding life and death, and started to become aware of the intensely painful nature of the human condition. This sorrowful realization taught me that genuine compassion is the only worthy response to the sufferings of the world. Watching the Vietnam War played out on TV, I became disillusioned with political solutions, which seemed heavily weighted toward the wealthy and powerful. Spiritual transformation seemed a more feasible option. One day during my studies at Berkeley, I somehow found my way to the home of a Tibetan lama who had just arrived from India. From him, and along with a group of other Americans, I studied Buddhism, learned Tibetan, and did hundreds of full-length prostrations to purify my mind and create good karma. On a lark, I applied for an East-West Center grant to study at the University of Hawai`i and was soon surprised to find tickets to Honolulu in the mailbox. The grant allowed me to study more about Buddhist philosophy and, just around the corner, Roshi Aitken’s Diamond Sangha was perfect for meditation. After finishing an MA in Asian Studies, I set off for field research in Japan and India, which eventually led me to Dharamsala, nestled in the snow-capped Himalayas.

Asian Adventures

When I first arrived in Dharamsala in 1972, His Holiness the Dalai Lama and about 100,000 Tibetans were living in India and Nepal, having fled the communist Chinese invasion of their country. As refugees, the Tibetans were struggling to survive and to preserve their ancient cultural traditions. H.H. Dalai Lama established many cultural institutions in exile, including the Library of Tibetan Works and Archives for preserving Tibetan literature and culture. I learned that the Library offered courses on Buddhism and Tibetan language for Western students and, as part of an East-West Center field study grant, was anxious to begin classes. The very first day I entered the Library, breathless from running down the mountain, I encountered a small lama wearing a pointed hat, sitting on a cushion at one end of the room. He was describing the stages of the process of dying in elaborate detail, explaining, “At the second stage of the dying process, you will see a faint smoke....” After years of extensive searching, here was the perfect teacher. Hardly believing my good fortune, I sat at his feet for six

Citation: A. Charles Muller. Tsomo, Karma Lekshe. H-Buddhism. 01-16-2019. https://networks.h-net.org/node/6060/pages/3571750/tsomo-karma-lekshe Licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License. 3 H-Buddhism years, studying the classic texts of Indian Buddhism. The people who studied at the Library in those early days were a motley crew of aspiring scholars and spiritual seekers from many lands and backgrounds. The Tibetans living nearby were surprised and somewhat amused that Western people would sacrifice economic advancement to live in such meager circumstances, but His Holiness arranged for us to study with outstanding Buddhist scholars. Many students and researchers from those early years have since become well-known translators and interpreters of Buddhism for the West. During winter breaks, we went on pilgrimages or did meditation retreats. Over the years, I made many journeys back and forth between India and Honolulu. I studied in India as long as I could, then returned to Honolulu to work and save money to return to India and continue my studies. These years were filled with countless blessings and difficulties. We received teachings from many remarkable teachers, met frequently with His Holiness, and were surrounded by devoted and encouraging Buddhist practitioners. The sounds of ritual horns, drums, and chanting filled the crisp mountain air and we had plenty of time to study and practice. We struggled to get visas, to learn Tibetan, to cook over kerosene stoves, in mud huts, in impossible weather, and to survive many debilitating illnesses. Whenever our visas, health, or money were exhausted, we had no choice but to return home to work and figure out some way to continue studying in India. After I learned Tibetan, His Holiness kindly arranged for me to study at the Institute of Buddhist Dialectics. There, I was fortunate to attend classes in Buddhist philosophy with wonderful teachers and debate with 80 other students, all monks. When I looked around, however, I saw that many Tibetan nuns did not have opportunities like this and were facing great hardships. A few monasteries for nuns were getting started, but space was very limited. Those who could not find a spot at one of those monasteries had to make do with whatever accommodations and food they could find. Some were living in makeshift shacks made of wooden planks and plastic sheets. Education, taken for granted by monks, was just a dream for nuns. It was commonly believed that women were not interested in learning philosophy and many people, including many women themselves, believed that women were stupid. The nuns I met were convinced that they were incapable of analytical thinking or even of learning to read, but when I engaged a Tibetan lama to teach a group of eleven Tibetan nuns to read, all

Citation: A. Charles Muller. Tsomo, Karma Lekshe. H-Buddhism. 01-16-2019. https://networks.h-net.org/node/6060/pages/3571750/tsomo-karma-lekshe Licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License. 4 H-Buddhism our preconceptions were shattered. These nuns, who had traveled from Tibet in search of the Dharma and the blessings of His Holiness, all learned to read within two months. Nuns from diverse regions of the Himalayas arrived, all eager to study Buddhist texts in depth. This sparked my decision to help the nun learn more and soon a full-time study program was underway. From these humble beginnings, Jamyang Chöling Monastery grew into a thriving study center for over 120 nuns and produced six of the first class of twenty female Buddhist philosophy scholars geshema( ). This initial project grew to include thirteen other monasteries for women that have been established in remote areas of the Himalayas such as Kinnaur, Spiti, and Zangskar to provide education for Buddhist women. The imperative to open up educational opportunities for women inspired me to conduct research on Buddhist women. This research glaringly revealed the disadvantaged status of women, and that inspired me to work for gender equity in the Buddhist traditions. In this way, and against all odds, Tibetan and Himalayan nuns began studying Buddhist dialectics and many now excel at it. Jamyang Chöling in Dharamsala was the first such initiative and today it is possible for women to study dialectics at a number of nuns’ monasteries: Jangchub Choeling in Mundgod, Dolma Ling near Dharamsala, Khachoe Ghakyil Ling outside of Kathmandu, and others. In the traditional style, the nuns not only study philosophical texts, but they alsodo philosophy by actively participating in regularly scheduled philosophical debate sessions. In the beginning years and still at remote monasteries, nuns have been disadvantaged by not having a senior class of seasoned scholars as debate partners, but they have overcome this handicap to a remarkable extent, surprising everyone. They have garnered praise from their teachers, including HH Dalai Lama, and have earned the opportunity to obtain the coveted title ofgeshe , or master of philosophical texts and treatises. In 2011, the German nun named Geshe Kelsang Wangmo, who studied at the Institute of Buddhist Dialectics in Dharmasala, received a Rimay Geshe degree. Soon after, the Tibetan Government-in-Exile announced that Himalayan nuns were also on track to receive the geshe degree. In 2013, at Jamyang Chöling, a group of 27 Himalayan nuns took their first round of exams leading to the geshe degree. Philosophical studies, previously pursued primarily at the major monastic universities of Tibet – Drupung, Ganden, and Sera – have now become an integral component of many monastic study centers in all of the Buddhist schools – Nyingma, Sakya,

Kagyu, and Gelug – as well as in Bön study centers. As nuns successfully pass their exams and take their places as teachers, it is likely that philosophical studies will become more and more common in monastic education programs for women. As a case study of gender and rapid social change, is amazing and inspiring to see the switch from “women are too stupid” to “nuns are hot at debate” that has taken place in the Tibetan exile community in a matter of just 30 years!

Buddhist Feminist Activism

During the fifteen years I spent in India, I recognized that Buddhist nuns did not have the same opportunities for study and practice as the monks did, and they also often did not have adequate living conditions. When I spoke with the nuns, I found that many had no formal education whatsoever, especially those who had fled from Tibet. Some were content to recite prayers and mantras, but others were keenly interested in learning more about the Buddhist teachings to which they had dedicated their lives. Starting with a literacy program for Tibetan nuns in Dharamsala in the 1980s, I helped develop a series of study programs in the Himalayan region: Kinnaur, Spiti, and Zangskar. Over the years, many of these courageous nuns have demonstrated superior intellectual and leadership capabilities, dispelling centuries of preconceptions. The pioneering efforts of these nuns have confirmed for me women’s powerful potential for social transformation. During the 1980s, recognizing that Buddhist women in other parts of Asia were experiencing similar difficulties, Ayya Khema, Chatsumarn Kabilsingh (now Bhikkhuni Dhammananda), and I conceived the idea of an international gathering of Buddhist women. In 1987, at the conclusion of the first gathering in Bodhgaya, we founded the Sakyadhita (“Daughters of the Buddha”) International Association of Buddhist Women, an alliance of Buddhist laywomen and nuns, to work for the welfare of women in all the world’s Buddhist traditions. Since then, we have held conferences in many countries to give Buddhist women a forum to voice their ideas and to encourage scholarship on Buddhist women’s contributions.

Since 1987, Sakyadhita has grown into an active non-profit organization that unites Buddhist around the world who are concerned about correcting gender inequities in Buddhism and working for the welfare

Citation: A. Charles Muller. Tsomo, Karma Lekshe. H-Buddhism. 01-16-2019. https://networks.h-net.org/node/6060/pages/3571750/tsomo-karma-lekshe Licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License. 6 H-Buddhism of all living beings, especially women and children. Over the years, I have edited and published the papers presented at these conferences in a series of books that have been translated into various languages. The scholarship, cultural interactions, and activism generated by this fledgling movement has far exceeded my expectations. It is a great joy to see new generations of scholars continually uncovering Buddhist women’s history and debating issues of vital concern to Buddhists around the world. Making these ideas available to diverse audiences has motivated me to write more than I ever imagined. In my experience, the inclusion of women’s voices and concerns is one of the most exciting developments in the emerging discipline of Buddhist studies. Other topics related to Buddhist studies, such as thanatology, bioethics, neuroethics, peace studies, and cognitive studies, also fascinate me. I welcome the opportunity to explore a range of topics – medical ethics, governance, sexual ethics, incarceration, race, peacebuilding, economic ethics, mysticism, and more – from Buddhist philosophical and cultural perspectives. Yet the topic that still holds the greatest fascination for me, because of its tremendous social relevance, is women in Buddhism. It is a multifaceted topic for exploration and holds immense social significance at a time when women globally are coming into their power. Research, writing, translation, education, and social activism by and about women are critically important in the current revitalization of Buddhism internationally, to ensure that women are not left out of conversations that are crucial to the survival and evolution of human society. The fact that Buddhist women have little or no official representation in the religious hierarchies of their traditions is certainly a handicap in terms of education, resources, and influence. There are millions of dedicated and energetic Buddhist women with enormous potential to change the world, but they currently have little or no voice in official Buddhist power structures. This means that Buddhist institutions are running at only half their capacity. Buddhist institutions need enlightened leadership and, given a chance, women are ready to help. As women become better educated, they also become better prepared to work independently, outside male-dominated institutional frameworks, where they are free to update Buddhist thinking and make socially responsible changes. Traditionally, Buddhists have taught mindful awareness, compassion, wisdom, and peace. Today, Buddhist practitioners must also become actively engaged to eliminate racism, sexism, militarism, economic exploitation and

Transforming Perceptions

A lack of confidence in one’s intellectual capacity is a formidable obstacle. Where knowledge acquisition is restricted, perceptions of women’s intellectual capabilities are skewed and frequently disparaging, thus having the effect of diminishing women’s self-perceptions. In any society characterized by widespread gender discrimination, it is commonly assumed that women are incapable of higher-order thinking and this becomes a self- fulfilling prophecy. In the Tibetan tradition until very recently, women were excluded from forums of philosophical inquiry and few, if any, emerged as masters of the philosophical texts. Until the 1990s, the notion of women pursuing a philosophical vocation was considered pure fantasy. As a consequence, men have continued to dominate the field, determining its curricula, and monopolizing its direction, format, and evaluation. Here I would like to explore the roots of gender inequality in the field of philosophical inquiry from a Buddhist perspective, based on my own experience, primarily in the Tibetan tradition, though it is entirely possible to draw parallels with other Buddhist traditions. The first thing to note is that the field of Buddhist philosophy has been dominated by monastics, notably male monastics. Traditionally, the primary Buddhist learning centers were the monasteries, where male clergy potentially had access to the finest teachers and were supported to philosophize to their hearts’ content, whereas women were discouraged from a monastic vocation and generally persuaded to marry and produce

Citation: A. Charles Muller. Tsomo, Karma Lekshe. H-Buddhism. 01-16-2019. https://networks.h-net.org/node/6060/pages/3571750/tsomo-karma-lekshe Licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License. 8 H-Buddhism children. Celibate monasticism, which is perceived to be the ideal lifestyle for abandoning desire, can be seen as an androgynous archetype in which the lines between gender identities tend to blur, at least in theory. In certain Buddhist traditions the markers of a monastic, the robes and shaved head, are similar or even identical for monks and nuns. The lifestyle may also be nearly identical. Yet gender distinctions frequently appear in rituals, texts, accommodations, community support, social perceptions, and in everyday Buddhist monastic life. In Buddhist educational centers, gender distinctions were very clearly drawn: males were welcome and women were not. In addition to these sociological questions, it is worthwhile to analyze the intellectual component of human identity from the perspective of gender categories to explore whether or not the traditional scholastic method of philosophical debate speaks to women and/or for women. Beyond physical markers, it is unclear whether there are intellectual and psychological markers of identity that could legitimately place men at an advantage and women at a disadvantage in the realm of philosophical reflection, or vice versa. The fact that men have been privileged to pursue the study of philosophy while women have largely been denied those opportunities has certainly resulted in a greater number of male Buddhist philosophers. Whether there are factors that distinguish the predilections of women and men in the realm of philosophical reasoning remains an open question, but if all socially constructed markers and limitations are removed, perhaps we can imagine ways of doing philosophy that are comfortable for all, regardless of sexual identity or gender identification. These questions do not pertain solely to monastics, although monastic identity is a convenient case in point, since monastics are stripped of the hair, clothes, and behaviors that are typically deployed to identify, categorize, and discriminate between genders. But based on my six years of experience as the only woman, and often the only foreigner, studying Buddhist dialectics in Dharamsala, the format of philosophical debate as preserved in the Tibetan tradition is a very masculinized approach to theoretical inquiry, one that is highly competitive, formulaic, stereotypically (though not entirely) rational, often aggressive, and utterly dependent on male intellectual lineages. It is certainly important to have enough confidence on the debate court to boldly present one’s ideas, but the aggressive tone of many debates is not always comfortable for women. The classical Indian system of philosophical debate that was

Citation: A. Charles Muller. Tsomo, Karma Lekshe. H-Buddhism. 01-16-2019. https://networks.h-net.org/node/6060/pages/3571750/tsomo-karma-lekshe Licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License. 9 H-Buddhism preserved in Tibet and reintroduced to India during the 1960s by the Tibetan exile community requires extensive memorization, not only of precise definitions, but also of the debates of great scholars of the past and present, both Indian and Tibetan, as well as analysis of the implications of these diverse philosophical positions and the refutations that have been leveled against them by scholars over many centuries. Mastering all this material, or even keeping up with its presentation, requires an extraordinary intellectual commitment and up to 20 years of immersion in Buddhist studies and practices to the exclusion of almost all other activities, with few other incentives except for the love of the game. It is uncertain how many people in the modern day and age are that dedicated. The great learning centers of Tibet were open to students of all schools, but they were firmly closed to women. Even the mothers of young monks were forbidden to stay overnight. Monasteries for nuns were generally located far from population centers. As a result, most nuns received only a rudimentary religious education and engaged in rituals and devotional practices instead. In 1987, a handful of nuns in Dharamsala began studying logic and debate. Contrary to conventional wisdom, these nuns not only displayed a keen interest in philosophy, they eventually became highly adept at it. A group of 25 nuns from monasteries in India and Nepal are now on a steady course to become the first nuns ever to earn a geshe degree. Their path to philosophical success has not always been easy, but they have persevered conscientiously. Questions remain, however, concerning the usefulness of philosophical debate in meeting the needs and aspirations of Buddhist women in resolving the critical issues of our day, and even for cultivating good character and a sense of ethical responsibility. By raising these questions, women may have the power to change what Buddhists mean by “philosophy” and the ways it is done.

Questioning Intellectual Constructions of Gender

The Buddhist philosophical approach is based on open inquiry. Rejecting essentialized identities, Buddhist thinkers point out that perceptions of fixed identity arise from not understanding the constructed nature of things. Like all terms and concepts, the labels “male” and “female” are imputed to phenomena based on preconceptions, assumptions, and social constructions of meaning. If women are motivated to opt out of gendered preconceptions and social expectations, Buddhist philosophy is a

Citation: A. Charles Muller. Tsomo, Karma Lekshe. H-Buddhism. 01-16-2019. https://networks.h-net.org/node/6060/pages/3571750/tsomo-karma-lekshe Licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License. 10 H-Buddhism field where disputing the fixed nature of things, including partless particles and imaginaries, is encouraged. Beyond the social constructions of gender that define and often enslave human beings, beyond the physiological markers that signal sexual difference, philosophical inquiry is an open space where women are free to conceive and experience the world beyond imputed gender limits. Historically, many Buddhist women have opted for devotional and contemplative practices rather than philosophy. This has not necessarily been by choice since women were often typecast as intellectually inferior to men and therefore felt uncomfortable taking public roles. Religiously inclined women may have preferred quietude and isolation as a way to protect themselves from public scrutiny or from the problems of worldly life, even though women in contemplative life were poorly supported. It is also possible that religiously inclined women lacked the confidence, role models, and circumstances they needed to pursue philosophy seriously. Now that Tibetan and Himalayan women have decided take to take their place on the debate courts, most do so in same-sex communities rather than risk being rejected, marginalized, or ignored in male-dominated venues. Very few have been motivated to struggle for admission to male study programs where they would have equal access to qualified teachers and a stimulating intellectual atmosphere because they are not welcome. Still, until now women who were interested in and felt capable of doing philosophy have had no option but to do so along the currents defined by men. Nuns in the Tibetan cultural sphere have proven that they are not only capable of analytical thinking but are also deeply committed to mastering it, and this is perhaps a suitable juncture to question whether the traditional system of rigorous philosophical debate suits their needs and aspirations. This inquiry requires us to question the entire system and method of Buddhist dialectics. Dialecticians have been the brunt of many jokes in Tibetan Buddhist lore and certainly mastery of the system does not necessarily translate to good character or a kind heart. The system of teaching and learning Buddhist dialectics as preserved and developed in Tibet has great merit. My provocation here is to question whether and how this method of study can be constructively applied to address contemporary real-world issues such as gender justice, climate justice, economic justice, and human rights. At the same time, I wonder how the traditional Buddhist studies method might be tempered by incorporating innovative pedagogies

The Academy

In 1989, my sojourn in India abruptly came to an end when I was bitten by a poisonous viper while walking in the forest in the Himalayan foothills. Half dead, I was taken to Delhi for treatment and later to Tijuana, Mexico, where a friend sent me for further treatment. My right arm swelled with gangrene and I spent three months in third-world hospitals enduring countless surgeries and staring down death or a life of disability with just one arm. After surviving this traumic injury and many reconstructive surgeries, I spent a year learning to use my arm again, but was too sick to return to India, so I enrolled in a graduate program at the University of Hawai‘i and wound up with a doctorate in Comparative Philosophy. It was not easy to navigate the program and it took forever to finish, because I had started a number of education programs for nuns in India and was deeply involved with organizing Sakyadhita International Conferences on Buddhist Women and publishing the proceedings. As miserable as it was, my near- death experience due to the snakebite had some fortuitous consequences for my scholarship. University life expanded my understanding of Buddhist studies and gave me many opportunities, for example, to coordinate the visit of H.H. Dalai Lama to Hawai‘i in 1994. A major problem arose when it came time to select a dissertation topic, however. Madhyamaka, Yogācāra, Bhutanese philosophy, Buddhist feminist philosophy, and the ethics of virtual reality were all deemed infeasible by the department chair, for reasons beyond my comprehension. Finally one day, while directing an NEH educational program on Living and Dying in Buddhist Cultures, the perfect research topic suddenly occurred to me: death and identity in China and Tibet. The dilemma of how to run two non-profit organizations and finish a dissertation remained. After getting a one-year extension and organizing a Sakyadhita conference in Nepal, I took out my notes and jammed until the dissertation was complete. The evening after hosting a large fundraising event in downtown Honolulu to support the projects in India, I successfully defended my dissertation, then flew off to begin teaching at the University of San Diego. During my graduate studies, I never took out any loans because, as a

Buddhist nun, I had no illusions about getting a university teaching position. At one point, it occurred to me that if anyone would hire me, it would be the Catholics because they are not afraid of nuns. Sure enough, I was hired to teach Buddhism and World Religions at two Catholic institutions: first at Chaminade University in Honolulu and later at the University of San Diego. Asked whether I would feel comfortable with so many Christian around, I assured my interviewer that some of my best friends were Christians, and landed the job. Teaching at Catholic universities (first Chaminade, then USD) has been eye-opening and enriching. My colleagues are very liberal minded and we have had rich conversations about religion and life, dispelling many of the stereotypes about Catholics that I grew up with. At first, students find it a bit weird to learn Christianity, Judaism, or Islam from a Buddhist nun, but the World Religions class turns out to be a deep learning opportunity for us all. In World Religions classes, I assign two field research projects that require students to explore two religious traditions outside their own familiar realm of experience. In Buddhist Thought and Culture classes, they attend services at the temples of two different Buddhist traditions. We all benefit by expanding our religious and cultural literacy during these visits and forge close connections with local temples, synagogues, mosques, and churches. Although my doctoral work was in Comparative Philosophy, I have developed a deep appreciation for Religious Studies because it integrates aspects of history, anthropology, sociology, psychology, gender studies, literature, art, and film studies with philosophy in socially relevant ways. As a Buddhist nun and an academic, I find myself toggling between insider and outsider views. It is both magical and disconcerting to view the tradition from both perspectives. In the 1990s, when I taught for Antioch University’s Buddhist Studies in India program, the students were keenly interested in both Buddhist philosophy and practice. They signed on to live a minimalist monastic lifestyle at the Burmese Temple in Bodhgaya for several months and were prepared to practice two hours of silent meditation a day, one starting at 5 a.m. A number of these students identified as Buddhist and several ordained temporarily as monastics, and they were eager to participate in temple visits, pilgrimage excursions, and dialogues with Asian Buddhist practitioners. Some of them have pursued higher degrees in Buddhist Studies or Religious Studies and are now teaching at universities around the country.

Integrating traditional Buddhist Studies into a modern American liberal-arts curriculum in Honolulu or San Diego has been more challenging. Students are required to take religion courses and sometimes Buddhism is the course of least resistance. Gradually, their interest is piqued by meditation and methods for dealing with conflicting emotions. To maintain their interest, I incorporate Buddhist approaches to cognitive psychology and contemporary social issues. At a Catholic university, it is possible to introduce mindfulness exercises and different meditation techniques in the classroom and students find the practice of cultivating awareness in the present moment very helpful. Only a few are interested in the finer points of Buddhist philosophy, but at least they learn the basic vocabulary and become conversant with basic Buddhist concepts so they can learn more on their own later, if they wish. Many have contacted me after graduation to say how beneficial mindfulness practice has been for controlling anger, reducing stress, maintaining mental health, and creating healthy relationships. A few have gone on to take ten-day Vipassana meditation courses or attend other retreats. All of them at least know how to follow their breathing during traffic jams.