Month: February 2017

Navigating Your Faith Journey when your Spouse is in a Different Place | Dear Addie #14

Dear Addie,   My husband and I are in increasingly different places with our individual faith journeys. We were married 23 years ago. I was a faithful church leader and worker. Our church, however, sort of went off the rails….

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A Letter about White Privilege

Dear Cara,   Remember the first time you heard the word privilege? You were little, and there was something that you’d done or didn’t do. As a consequence, you lost some privileges. For a short time, life was more limited,…

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I’m Here for That

Right now, my favorite song is probably “Here,” by Sho Baraka. Besides having a bright, expressive piano chord progression, the song has an infectious hook that doubles as a liturgical affirmation:   Love over hate, love over hate – I’m…

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Interview with Patricia Raybon, Author of My First White Friend

A couple of years ago, I was in charge of curating a shelf on race at a local bookstore. I was excited about the project, but wasn’t sure where to begin. I reached out to people I knew who were…

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Challenging Us Versus Them

The airplane descended slowly to land, passing by mountains covered in cement homes, gravel and dirt roads, and the ever-present shanty town aluminum roofs. Nausea set in as our team exited the airplane into the dimly lit airport, gathered our…

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Understanding the Struggle of Minorities through The Warmth of Other Suns

Developing empathy, studying history, and listening to the stories of people different from me is vital to be a flourishing citizen. And books like The Warmth of Other Suns by the Pulitzer Prize–winning author Isabel Wilkerson have helped me, as…

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Looking Back to the Honeymoon

I am just a girl—twenty-two, in a too-short black dress littered with roses. My husband’s arm is around my back and he is grinning. I smile shyly, too aware this is my honeymoon. A coy deference seems important here. These…

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Friendship in the Dark

“Out of the darkness, came a small voice… ‘I’ll be a friend to you.’ ‘But I can’t see you,’ said Wilbur. ‘I’m right up here.’”   It’s the end of August, and I’m standing in a circle of teachers. At…

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For the first few months after he married our Mother, Step-Father spent most of his time clearing away the forest trees that surrounded our house. “The homestead,” he called it. We’d never called it that before. He cleared the trees,…

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A Sheltered Racist

I played basketball in middle school and high school, and we played this one team twice a year. One of their players was big-eyed, spoke loudly, and had an intensity about her that was fierce. I’ll say it again, fierce….

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