I implore you — my neighbors — to show up for each other in whatever way you can and to avoid judging others because they may not choose to engage the way that you do right now.
It has been quite an eventful few weeks, to say the least. There have been many contradictions and plenty of intense emotions—fear, anger, and probably for some, even joy. For me, it has been a real struggle.
This is a tough time of year. It’s the time when suicides increase and when people feel tremendous isolation and loss. It is when darkness creeps in, literally and figuratively. The holidays, for some, can exacerbate feelings of aloneness and as the days … (read more)
Since Harris’s candidacy became a reality, I have marveled at how beautifully and brilliantly she has navigated and executed countless challenging situations in such a short time.
I don’t think it’s that people are concerned that Biden would do his job poorly, the question is, can he still beat Trump?
I have been pondering the relationship between policing and teaching. Initially, one might not see the two as related, but they really are quite intertwined.
Last week, the Biden Administration announced that it was considering an Executive Order that would restrict asylum claims at the U.S.-Mexico border.
An old saying about not seeing the forest through the trees implies someone isn’t seeing the big picture. Recently, I had a first-hand opportunity to experience this expression.
Walking through town the last month, I saw a white woman in fully traditional Mexican dress, the kind my grandmother used to bring back to me from Mexico when I was little.
I am about to tell you a difficult story. Stay with me, please. There’s a reason I’m sharing it.
We are in the midst of a war on education. Not against all learning, but certainly against any lessons about racial injustice.
Equality is not equity. Dr. King made this point repeatedly. He argued that while white Americans were acquiring free land in the American West, Black Americans, Asians, and Latinos were cultivating that land with zero or little compensation.
As we approach the holiday season, I ache to hear my grandmothers’ voices, to hug them, to spend time with them.
Since I wrote the piece about my grandmother, I’ve been stewing about the revocation of abortion rights and reading more on the ways in which we can argue that these rights are constitutional.
In 1948, my grandmother married my grandfather. Soon after, they had their first child. He was the first of ten.
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