Read MoreLike Edmund, we ate the Turkish delight offered by the system, relying on their forms, processes, hoping thier procedural laws built to oppress us would do something other. Our stories cemented in stones, the scars on our skin, un-dead, and un-done.
Read MoreWisdom is grounded in embodied knowing, holding complexity without losing conviction. We must imagine a third way.
I hope you would see me
Before a hashtag precedes my name
Before my face is a mural on a brick façade
I hope you would see me
Read MoreJesus stood in front of the donkey, got on it, no scars yet and they all cheered as he entered the city. I cannot watch the live feed of Facebook without wondering if I am another onlooker, or observer, cheering for the next great moment of harm in someone’s life.
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