Off the Bench

A long time ago, I grew tired of men arguing with me on Facebook and Twitter about sexual assault statistics on college campuses. I grew tired of explaining: rape isn’t about sex, or what she was wearing or how drunk she was. A long time ago I became tired of reiterating the (actual, provable) fact […]

A Voice in the Wind

I drove my (African American) neighbor on an errand yesterday. He was circumspect, gracious and quiet. His movements were slow and his voice was quiet. His mouth was full of yes ma’ams and no ma’ams. They tumbled out of him like apologies. When I deposited him at the end of his errand, his sister was […]

At the Table

I was nervous, but I went anyway. I went without any makeup, in faded, old sweats, in runnings shoes, which I never wear unless I’m, you know, actually running. I had good, solid, viable reasons to excuse myself. I was tired. I didn’t feel like it. What if they didn’t like me. See? Good reasons. […]

Telling Tulsa’s Story

A young African American man stepped onto an elevator on May 31, 1921. Dick Rowland, likely on a break from his shoe shine job, had planned to use the restroom on the fourth floor of the Drexel Building. He and his colleagues had restricted access to public facilities; this was the one they were permitted […]

Sticks and Stones

Photo credit: Rev Stan My husband has been getting an earful about the Richie Incognito/Jonathan Martin dustup within the Miami Dolphins organization. He is good to me, my husband. He lets me rant and rage and he nods his head and he says, “yes,” and “of course,” and “you’re right, dear.” Truth is, none of […]

Choking on Mana

When We Were on Fire, by my dear friend Addie Zierman, is available today and I could not be more excited for her, for you, for your chance to read her finely wrought words. Addie is not just a stellar storyteller. She is honest about her faith foibles and quick to dispel my maternal compulsion […]

All They Want

The timer beeps. I press the plunger down, and I take time to choose my mug. Today, the Emily Dickinson quote. I pour out a full cup and stand over the fragrant steam, inhaling peace and promise. Sitting at the end of the kitchen table, I can see the riotous green through the long and […]

The Power of a Yellow Vest

As part of my somewhat irregular attempt to garner a Mother of the Year award, which to date has been received with mixed reviews, I volunteered this weekend for my child. Her soccer club hosted a tournament, and those are a special kind of hell requiring thousands of man hours all for the sake our […]

Of Fat Babies and Food Stamps

The baby had fat cheek and fat legs and fat fingers. He smiled through his chubby face with pure baby joy. His crocheted giraffe hat smashed down on his fat baby head and his blue eyes peeked out from under the giraffe’s, um, snout I guess you’d call it. His mama unpacked jar after jar […]

What I’m In To; Or How I Caved to Peer Pressure

In an ongoing effort to put off the increasingly aggressive hands of time, and to try to convince myself of my hipness and persistent joie de vivre, I have caved to Leigh Kramer. Leigh, of the end of month What I’m In To posts that are pure delight. She says I’m cool enough to do […]