I was wrong. When I was a young woman, perhaps 14 or 15 years old, I engaged in an uncomfortable act of introspection. I saw myself as competitive, and prideful, and unwilling to admit fault. I was equally unwilling to accept these aspects of myself unchallenged. I committed myself to action, determined to improve my … Continue reading Part 2: Love, people! Love people.
I am a racist. It is gut-wrenching to write those words. They are staring back at me, breaking and re-breaking my heart. In the midst of recent events, a great many of my beloved friends, and family – my people – have added their voices to the discourse. And frankly, I am shocked. I am … Continue reading Part 1: I am a racist.