As a teenager, I went to youth Bible study on Wednesdays, choir rehearsal on Fridays, and volunteered with the Children’s Ministry on Saturdays. My week, and my network of friends, revolved around social activities in church. We traveled from place to place because safe and loving adults cared to drive us from place to place. I think of people like my dad, Ms. Sonya, Ms. Burwell, Ms.
I went to my first street vigil in the United States just over two years ago in Baltimore, Maryland.
I am very angry, and I am usually the consensus builder. The racial tension, violence, and the growing backlash to marriage equality and trans visibility makes the everyday life feels like a powder keg.
There needs to be some kind of release from all the pain, anger, suffering and injustice.
The National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) has always been on the front lines of Civil Rights since its inception, and this time is no different.
We know about hope. Hope was the promise that was presented to us when Obama was in office. It was the change that we could believe in. We betted on hope and applauded ourselves on making change happen and embodying progress by electing the first African American man into the White House.
I am always worried to the point of nail-biting when my spouse leaves in the morning for Boston Medical Center if she’ll return home to me, because she’s always stopped by the Cambridge or Boston police. They don’t see Dr. Thea James.
On July 8th, I wanted to scream at a little kid on the subway. Usually, I love kids. I have been babysitting since I was ten years old. My first job out of college was as a youth leader. I currently spend my days either working with children or planning programs so that I can work with children. I don’t even mind riding an airplane with a crying baby.
Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go. Joshua 1:9
This week we stepped into a period of mourning, overwhelmed by a string of deaths that remind us again that we live in a world of injustice and sorrow.
As a young queer and trans person seeking ordination in The United Methodist Church, I am incredibly blessed to have a wealth of role models to look to as I imagine the type of minister I hope to become. This may seem a strange thing to say in a denomination that has written discrimination against me and my queer family into its practices and policies.