My mother called me a few weeks ago and asked what I was doing for the holidays. I shared that I would be flying back to New York to spend time with her and the rest of our family for Christmas and would head back to Chicago right before New Year’s Eve.
“Transgender Day of Remembrance is a day for stories to be told and scripts to be rewritten. It’s a chance to reach out and come together against the dehumanizing violence that haunts our communities. Love is a call as well as a response, but most of all love is an action.” -Angelica Ross
Let me tell you about my new podcast Christian Underhistory.
It's a Christian True Crime podcast.
Please share your good wishes with our departing director Keisha McKenzie in the comments below! We will keep you updated on Believe Out Loud's staff structure as we continue an organization-wide strategic planning process under the leadership of Intersections International's executive director, Rev. Julie Johnson Staples.
I was 14 years old the first time I held a gun.
My parents had recently divulged that they owned not one, but two, 9 mm semi-automatic handguns. The thought of guns in my house was scary, even if they were kept in small lock boxes, stashed far in the back of my parent’s closet. It occurred to me that even if you have a gun, anyone could find it or take it from you and use it.
I’m not a big fan of Trans Day of Remembrance.
She’s not a regular.
I’d been meeting there weekly for almost two months, and I'd never seen her before. It must have been her first time. I was sure I knew all of the unsheltered people.
She asked if I had $2. I didn’t. I still don’t. I choose not to carry cash.
Times are rough. Every five seconds, the news tells us something terrible that Trump and his administration has done. White Supremacists have a renewed, public boldness. Social media feeds are landmines of triggering comments about race, gender, sexuality, and many other issues that make up one's humanity.