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You’re Swimming Streamline

The guests are gone, the washing begun. A wind arrived and blew slashing rain down the streets. The palms shook their heads like Peanuts characters dancing to Linus’s piano. Then the storm, too, passed. Water filled the potholes; for the sake of your suspension, beware the unseen. I, who made no food for Thanksgiving, baked...

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Safe Space, An Error

We sat around the table at Caritas Village. The time was the early 2010s, the place Memphis. We were in the back room behind the grey folding partition conducting our Memphis School for Servant Leadership Board meeting. We were probably eating chips or brownies or other snacks Board members brought for meetings. As the Board chair reviewed the...

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Kill Move Paradise

Usually, I review books in this space. Today, we’re doing something a little different. Because when I was sitting in the audience at the end of Kill Move Paradise, I thought, I have to write about this in the blog. So, today, it’s a play. Hattiloo Theatre My husband and I have been attending Memphis’s Hattiloo Theatre...

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All Saints’ Day

On this All Saints’ Day, as we left the church singing “Oh, when the Saints, go marching in,” I connected with my ancestors. If you’ve read this blog, you realize that’s no mean feat for me. I’ve spent a lot of time talking about my father’s family and their sins. I do not consider them saints. I...

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Rain in NOLA

I zip my pink raincoat up to my chin. Flip on the hood and head out. Rain falls. So common to New Orleans, but missing in action for weeks then months. We’ve had beautiful fall weather, but we glanced at the sky, wary of the dry clouds. At my feet, rain dimples puddles. The toes of my tennis shoes disappear in the runoff. I turn left...

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Lynching On the Courthouse Lawn

It’s a hard topic to write about, lynching. This stream of violence running through the middle of American history like the great Mississippi flowing down the center of our county is hard to face. But Sherrilyn A. Ifill uses an apt phrase in the introduction to her book, On the Courthouse Lawn: Confronting the Legacy of Lynching in the...

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The Sentences that Create Us

Reading The Sentences that Create Us raises a question: how do we handle the adjectives that are appended to descriptions of writers? “Southern” writer. “African American” writer. The adjectives often encapsulate the heart of the writing. But they can also carry an implied—and often condescending—”only” (She...

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THE MOVEMENT MADE US: A Telling

As I read THE MOVEMENT MADE US, I reflected on what I learned about generational racialized trauma in books such as My Grandmother’s Hands by Resmaa Menakem. Menakem’s book is wonderful, full of wisdom and advice. But what we learn from the father/son telling in THE MOVEMENT MADE US is on a different level. David Dennis Jr., in...

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A Fatherless Child..Just Not the Right One

I grew up in Mississippi a fatherless child. But something tells me State Auditor Shad White’s “fatherless” report wasn’t talking about me. For ten years in Mississippi, I was raised by a single mother who didn’t have a paying job. We got by thanks in part to government assistance from Social Security. Yet, no one cites studies that show how...

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