Growing up on Star Island
Looking back on my summers spent at a beloved Unitarian Universalist retreat.
We cannot hear unless there is silence.
The soul's address
We do ourselves a real disservice when we discount our bodies as unworthy of reverence.
Optimism often lies, but hope never fails.
Two prose poems
I have my way of praying, as you no doubt have yours.
A nation of immigrants
I couldn't help but connect the plight of these migrants to my own family history.
My home, your home, our home
Why do we expect others to feel at home when what’s around them seems so different from what they are used to?
Mi casa, tu casa, nuestra casa
¿Estamos dispuestos a incluir personas de diferentes culturas en nuestras congregaciones?
The dark llama
Standing in the shadow of the nebulae.
If our beliefs have meaning, we must act as if our souls depend on it.
There is enough
There's enough for you. There's enough for me. We don't have to throw anybody under the bus.
Black humanism’s response to suffering
Suffering is not redemptive; we must take human responsibility for eradicating it.