Last Saturday was my birthday.  It was also the anniversary of a year in pandemic mode, of cautious living, of extreme anxiety, of processing grief for everything and everybody that has been lost.  Last year I had big (Vegas-level big) plans for my birthday.  My whole family was gathering for a multi-day fest because I was turning 40.  My family doesn’t need much of a reason to get together and party, but the timing was perfect and the schedule of events promised a weekend of my favorite things with my favorite people.  I was really looking forward to it.  

We canceled the celebration shortly after the WHO announcement.  I guess we still held onto a sliver of hope that this virus wasn’t actually going to affect the U.S. or us. What hubris. Instead on my big day, I ordered West Indian take out, turned out the lights, and turned on a movie.  I don’t remember which one. I wasn’t really watching. I felt sad unpacking my sparkly outfits that would be appropriate nowhere else but The Strip. My husband did make me a fabulous carrot cake from scratch.  He is a terrific baker. Still, it was a pretty pitiful “Cuarentena”.

We didn’t know then that there would be a whole year of Covid-19 affected birthday celebrations, or that we would become quite good at them.  I have been asked to participate in dozens of zoom calls, socially distanced picnics, outdoor yoga classes, compilation videos, and deliveries of everything from champagne to cookie arrangements.  My aunt rented a parking lot and turned it into a drive-in movie theater for my uncle’s 70th.  We are so clever under duress. 

When it became apparent that I would have another Covid Birthday, that we would not, in fact, re-enact my celebration in person a year later, I tried to rally.  There remains a lot to be grateful for after all.  While I still cannot be with my family and friends scattered across the country, we are all alive and getting vaccinated.  We are very, very lucky.  There will be other gatherings, maybe sooner, maybe later. In the meantime, the truth is that I am tired of adapting.  I have adjusted and transformed and modified so much these last twelve months that I just can’t do it anymore.  Instead, I chose to fully embrace the best parts of this year, which have been learning to appreciate quiet and to value my own company. So for my 41st birthday I checked myself into a hotel and celebrated in joyful solitude. 

It will not surprise any mother or any teacher and especially any mother-teacher that this turned out to be the very best idea.  Two friends surprised me by sending reinforcement libations and sweet cards.  I took several naps.  I ordered food at 9pm and bought bubble bath at a nearby CVS.   In the morning I meditated in a garden and walked the city at my own pace. It was a true retreat and a gift I needed: permission to throw away ideas about getting back to normal and let this new life be what it will.  Resistance seems futile under the continued circumstances. 

Every year, my birthday falls on the vernal equinox, The First Day of Spring, which marks when the Sun is exactly above the Equator and day and night are of equal length.  In the Northern Hemisphere, it means longer days with more light are ahead. Having recently gotten into crystals, I brought a few along. I think I like most the way these metaphysical tools make my intentions tangible. On this vernal equinox birthday, I thought about what I needed most to bring my life into balance as we anticipate better days ahead and a return to at least some aspects of the before times.  What was it I wished for, beyond the health and well-beling of my loved ones? 

There is first and foremost Compassion, of which I am discovering new levels.  I have never felt more connected to or concerned with other people or more committed to acting out of love in ways that diminish harm. We are all dealing with so much. I have a lot more appreciation, acceptance, and grace for myself. This year, I hope to offer these to others.

I also invoke Courage.  This year has required so much courage just to get through the day.  The coming months will continue to require strength and fortitude.  I hope I can lean in and show up in the ways I am called to. 

Lastly, I manifest Creativity.  I am also celebrating a year of publishing this blog and the decision to share my thoughts, ideas, and writing with a wider world.  There are some awesome projects on the horizon that I will share more about soon. I have never thought of myself as an artist, but apparently it’s never too late to develop a craft, and as the Quakers say, The Way Will Open. 

A year in pandemic has been awful in many ways, and revelatory and transformative in others.  It has changed me, but mostly for the better. Healing from this trauma may take a long time, but if it has made me softer and more vulnerable, more in touch with humanity, more respectful of life, then so be it. 

When I got home my husband had made me another cake. Strawberry this year.  Different and delicious. My son bought me purple flowers because he knows that is my favorite color.  After a year of pandemic, I know enough to cherish the simplest acts of love. In the end, it is all that matters.

In the before times, I went to a Drake and Migos concert.  I am pretty sure I went alone.  I think this because all I remember is being surrounded by very young white people, whom I could not stop watching because I was sure one of them would say the n-word.  My teacher-mother mode does not have an off button, and I was absolutely going to admonish someone publicly. Once I caught them. I was ready. Perhaps they sensed my impending rage because no one slipped up.  Eventually I was reassured section 401 was a safe space and I relaxed, content to merely model how to enjoy a rap concert without mouthing a racial slur. 

This same tense anticipation is felt by Black students in English classrooms across the country. At a previous school, a white and Latinx teacher said the n-word in class while reading some book, and the Black students came to me highly agitated by the experience.  In the end, the administration supported the teacher and an ambiguous English department policy to allow teachers to make those decisions in their own classrooms according to their own rules of English-teacherdom.  While not surprising, it was very disappointing.  I am not sure why teachers keep dealing with this word incorrectly.  The rules feel pretty simple.  Willful ignorance must not be in short supply. 

Although this is my first time teaching To Kill A Mockingbird, it is not my first run-in with the literary N-word. I have taught a book with the N-word before: March: Book One, the graphic novel biography by John Lewis. At that time I was with a thoughtful group of educators who pooled resources to make sure every 6th grader learned the history of the word, the context in which John Lewis presented it, and our clear rules that no middle school student should even consider uttering it because that would never be appropriate. Yes, it was in their music and other media. Yes, there were Black artists and intellectuals making different decisions. But most of them weren’t Black and none of them were old enough or wise enough to make a deliberate decision to intentionally subvert linguistic history.

This summer I read a lovely book by a Black author, Midnight Without A Moon. It’s about the South and Emmett Till and the Great Migration – important topics. I remember balking when I arrived at the use of the n-word between members of a Black family. I am not sure I would teach that book in my current setting. These things are nuanced.

The rules have been very clear this year, which is so relaxing.  It is a department policy that the word is never read aloud by anyone on campus.  Our clear protocol is to skip over the word and to offer in advance the pages on which it appears.  I model this by reading the first few pages where it appears aloud.  

This actually led to a great teachable moment.  A friend posted this meme yesterday on Facebook. I snagged it and put in our powerpoint presentation.  When we got to the part in TKAM where Ms. Stephanie Crawford is describing what Nathan Radley is going to do to the Black person he perceives is in his collard patch, I paused, showed this illustration, and asked what Atticus, who doesn’t want his children to use the n-word, might say to Stephanie Crawford, who is currently using the n-word in front of them. They chose a phrase and practiced.  English class disguised as upstander training!

Now, 7th graders are a little bit more primed for nuance so we did present materials addressing the argument that there is a n-word double standard.  The social comedians were helpful here. This video by Francesca Ramsey and this video by J Smooth were very compelling.  For emphasis we quoted this Ta-Nehisi Coates article. 

One thing I want to caution against is making any argument that says Black people who use the n-word simply don’t know better or are ignorant or don’t study history. As Maury would say, “That is a lie.”  The first time I heard the n-word was from my uncle who is brilliant, funny, and caustic.  He never means the n-word kindly. He always means it.  Some of our finest millennial writers and intellectuals also use it.  You can have a whole conversation with Damon Young, Issa Rae, and Beyonce about why. I don’t speak for them, but they use the n-word in lots of different ways, and I am confident they 1) know their history 2) are smart as hell and 3) have a purpose. 

My students were satisfied with hearing that Black people disagree about its use and that, when of age, each Black person makes their own choice.  There isn’t anything unfair about that because context and relationship always rule language use.  If anyone is concerned about “justice”, I have a few ideas of where they can turn their attention. The world is in no shortage of disparity, and we could use a few good allies. 

So here are few guidelines in case you need some:

1. Tell the students the n-word appears in the book
2. Tell the students NO ONE is going to say the n-word out loud in this class. 
3. Acknowledge that seeing it written can still be hurtful
4. Tell the students NO ONE is going to say the n-word out loud in this class. 
5. Review the history of the n-word
6. Tell the students NO ONE is going to say the n-word out loud in this class. 
7. Acknowledge that there are Black people who say the n-word outside of this school. Clarify that this is Black people’s business and if one identifies as Black they are welcome to formulate an opinion and make a decision for themselves. We don’t control other people, and other people don’t control us. 
8. Tell the students NO ONE is going to say the n-word out loud in this class. 
9. Use the above mentioned resources to address any non-Black person who thinks not being able to say the n-word is “unfair”.  Ask them to re-direct their sense of justice where it matters.
10. Make sure NO ONE says the n-word in the class and have a clear policy in place to restoratively address the harm done if they (or you) do. 

My kids still want to know why we have to read this book where the n-word appears over 90 times (either Harper Lee wanted us to know it was ubiquitous in 1930’s Alabama or she was having way too much fun).  I tell them I don’t know yet.  In their lives, they will continue to encounter diverse texts that have this word. Many will actually be by Black people. But if they are at a Drake concert singing along to questionable lyrics and my face pops up in their head thus preventing them from unleashing the fury of the lady sitting two rows back, I will have done my job. 

So a Black teacher walks into a new school…and they hand her a copy of To Kill A Mockingbird. 

That’s it. That’s the punchline. 

I’ll admit I was shocked to hear I had to teach this book.  I had kind of decided to avoid it all costs. I hadn’t read it in decades. I did not remember the characters, the plot, or anything about it. Also I was teaching 7th grade. Didn’t this book belong in high school? Could we at the very least avoid teaching it during Black History Month? So many questions. So much dread. 

Books like To Kill A Mockingbird are no longer in vogue at urban, liberal, independent schools like mine. They are vestiges of traditional curricula we are supposed to have moved past through all of our professional development and DEI trainings.  To Kill A Mockingbird itself just carries a lot of baggage. Some people love it and think it is a truly “good” book, but a lot of people don’t.  There are dozens of critical articles examining the flaws from every angle.  There are horror stories about educators who have killed their careers teaching this book, perhaps by having superficial conversations that danced around the hard history  or perhaps by saying the n-word (which appears over 90 times) a little too casually.  Parents might have complained.  Students might have protested.  Librarians might have spent a summer reading replacement recommendations.  But there is usually someone hanging onto it, arguing for it from the corners.  The scary thing is I might become one of those people. 

In preparing for this unit, I have surprised myself.  I am actually REALLY looking forward to teaching this book. I have included all sorts of books about racial identity and racial justice in my curriculum over the years, many written by Black authors. Earlier this year we taught a beautiful unit based on Brown Girl Dreaming that centered Black history, activism, and art. Including BIPOC voices is not the issue; that is done easily, regularly, and with great joy.  Still there is something missing. Even using those texts, I have never been able to ask students to think about topics and questions like the ones that emerge so organically from this book.  And we are about to dive in deep.

Earlier in the year, I thought I knew where I stood in this debate.  Now I am not so sure. My co-teacher has done a helluva job coming up with a framework that strips away traditional presentations of this text. I am adding in my own important connections, which I will talk about in subsequent posts. I’ve been having a lot of conversations about To Kill A Mockingbird with other teachers. Beyond mandates, I am not satisfied with the arguments for keeping this book in the curriculum.  Beyond the traumatic memories of bad teaching, I am equally unsatisfied with the arguments for throwing it out.  I guess I still need to see this play out for myself.   

Over the next few weeks, I hope to explore questions that don’t have easy answers right now, such as:

• Why would two Black educators bother teaching To Kill A Mockingbird, and perhaps even choose to do it again?

• Have we sufficiently prepared ourselves to teach this book in an anti-racist, trauma informed way that accounts for our diverse students varying experiences and needs?

• Why might it be advantageous and appropriate to view racial violence, white supremacy, and systemic racism through a white lens and a white voice?

• What will this experience actually be like given we are doing this work in a hybrid learning environment during a pandemic?

What I know for sure is that teaching this unit will challenge me to do my very best work. And if I do it right, my students will walk away with an understanding of the world that better prepares them to make just choices and fight racial bias wherever they may find it, ESPECIALLY in the Pulitzer Prize winning darling of the American canon.

Today is Monday, February 1st. Such a neat and tidy beginning to Black History Month. 

Hopefully, there is already programming in place in your classroom, school, or organization to commemorate it.  I hope even more that this month is not the first time Black History is being taught nor will it be confined to the next 28 days.

Beyond teaching the identity calendar, my overall priority is to make sure my curriculum includes multiple perspectives and builds the cultural competence of my students, with the goal of creating space for each of them to be seen and represented in some capacity. This means my curriculum must be dynamic and able to adapt to the new groups of students I get each year. Equally important, I am always challenging myself to learn more and dig deeper, then bring that back to the classroom. If the lessons are stale for me, they won’t ring authentically important to my students either. 

*EDITING TO ADD: I recently talked about this topic and many of the resources below on The Kojo Nnamdi show which also featured Dr. Greg Carr.

If you are first starting out or are less familiar with Black History, definitely rely on tried and true resources from justice centered teaching organizations. A few suggestions include:

• Background information on Black History Month from Zinn Education Project,

• This framework for teaching the Civil Rights Movement from Learning for Justice (formerly Teaching Tolerance),

• These teaching ideas centering Black Agency and Joy from Facing History.

Here are a few other fresh and inspiring ways to teach Black History Month.

Teach the Collective

There was a terrific article by Imani Perry in the New York Times called “Do We Ask Too Much of Black Heroes”?  In it she argues that:

Heroes, as historians and activists have noted for generations, are often made mythic in ways that are troubling. Social change is never wrought by individuals. Movement is a collective endeavor and the romantic ideal of the hero obscures that truth. Recent social movements like the Movement for Black Lives have been deliberate about describing themselves as leaderless or “leader-full,” in order to emphasize the importance of collective organizing while rejecting the model of the charismatic male leader. 

Perry also quotes the words of Ella Baker: “Strong people don’t need strong leaders.” This is the lesson our children need in this moment: that they do not need to wait for a hero to lead or even wait until they feel like a leader themselves – they can band with a multi-talented group of others right now and get started on the work that concerns them.  Rejecting this individualistic view is in itself a rejection of white supremacist culture.  Definitely apropos. Some heroic groups to consider depending on the curricular focus and age of the students:

• Montgomery Bus Boycott
• Freedom Schools
• Freedom Democratic Party
• Historically Black Colleges and Universities (HBCUs)
• Student Non-Violent Coordinating Committee
• Black Panther Party
• Cohambee River Collective of Black Feminists
• National Association of Colored Women
• Brotherhood of Sleeping Car Porters
• Tuskegee Airmen
• Harlem Hellfighters
• Black Wall Street
• Black towns and settlements

Teach the Truth

I really appreciate the following articles which emphasize “unlearning white supremacy” as the primary goal of Black History Month. If our lessons merely support false narratives about Black people and our place in this country, it truly would be better to not teach them at all. 

• https://educationpost.org/lets-help-our-young-people-unlearn-what-white-supremacy-taught-them/
• https://www.inquirer.com/columnists/black-lives-matter-systemic-racism-george-floyd-ibram-x-kendi-antiracist-20200617.html
• https://www.uuworld.org/articles/black-history-month-time-unlearn

Additinally, part of telling the truth is lifting up stories of activists and organizers who have contributed, but may be left out of the known narrative due to multiple levels of marginalization, which can include being female, queer, disabled, or poor.  In search of “perfect heroes” we overlook incredible ones or erase the nuance of complex lives.

If we are going to single out people, let’s make sure the hero canon is representative of the ENTIRE community. Kids should know that women like Claudette Colvin, Diane Nash, Ella Baker and Fannie Lou Hamer also steered the course of history.  They should be familiar with the work of LGBTQ activists like Bayard Rustin, Audre Lorde, and Marsha P. Johnson. Some of our heroes  had physical and mental struggles that we don’t talk about enough. Widening our perspective will allow for more connection. Here are some terrific resources for teachers who want to strengthen their knowledge about Black history, learn from Black perspectives, and make sure they are getting the narratives right.  

• In Class With Carr is an awesome Youtube show and podcast with Karen Hunter and Dr. Greg Carr of Howard University. I recommend the YouTube version because he magically pulls books from a vast and intriguing library.
• Black Past is a helpful encyclopedia style resource with global and African-American entries.
• The GirlTrek Black History Bootcamp Podcast is great fun for the mind and body.  It will have you walking and learning at the same time. 
• The Equal Justice Initiative Calendar presents a History of Racial Injustice and is a heartbreaking catalogue with an entry for every day of the year.  Posted casually in the classroom it elicits lots of questions and conversations. 
• The Great Unlearn with Rachel Cargle is a self-paced curriculum. Follow them on Instagram for daily topics to research. 

Teach the Future

You cannot teach about Black history and not support today’s freedom movements. The Black Lives Matter movement was just nominated for a Nobel Peace Prize.  It is growing stronger and clearer in its purpose and goals. It is accomplishing incredible things in local communities. NOW is the time to engage this modern iteration of the freedom struggle as classroom material.  This week is actually The Black Lives Matter Week of Action in Schools.  

There are four primary demands, 13 guiding principles, and so many resources and ways to incorporate the messages.  One year my social studies class focused on learning about the school to prison pipeline and writing persuasive essays about the impact of police in schools.  Another year, the Black affinity group adopted the message of being “Unapologetically Black” and explored what that looked like in our predominantly white independent school.  Last year, I ran lunch groups to talk about the four demands and how we were connecting them to current events and the books we were reading.  All of those experiences were powerful.  Get creative, use the time that you can, and don’t doubt that these topics will be interesting and relevant to a wide range of students. There is even a coloring book.  Mindful art moment, anyone?

Afrofuturism is another way to talk about the future of Blackness while incorporating current artists, authors, and activists.  There are incredibly talented people engaging in this renaissance to imagine a future for Black people outside of white supremacy. Black Futures by Kimberly Drew and Jenna Wortham is a great primer and work of art in itself.

Additionally the Movement for Black Lives declares this Black Futures Month and has released this gorgeous and powerful short film:

However you choose to engage this month, do it with love, solidarity, and authentic interest.  Our students know when we are just checking boxes and Black History is too important for that. 

Last night was terrible.

Today I am exhausted.

It wasn’t that anything changed. Everything outside my window looks exactly the same. I had to remind myself that this is the same suffering that happens everyday. Last night it was just a spectacle. Today it is just tiring.

It is times like these I am glad to be Buddhist because it is the only way to make sense of the violence that escalated into a white supremacist terrorist mob riot overtaking the Capitol building. I need this kind of suffering to be normal. It is actually easier to process this level of suffering if I remind myself that something like what we witnessed is always happening. Maybe not outside our window. Maybe not in a national capital. But somewhere. The unusual days are when I forget. I need this kind of suffering to have a cause. I need to touch into the anger and fear and despair and deep confusion and sorrow that continually feeds cycles of violence. I need to know there is something I can do to end this suffering, both inside myself and in the world, and I need to know how to do it.

So last night and today I took my seat. I cleared my mind and asked for right view. Now is a time to see, to really see things for how they are. Not as we want them to be and not as they are for just those in our circle. Now is a time to bring whatever hovers on the periphery to the center. To focus on that which most needs our care.

I admire the Buddha because even though his life was comfortable, he recognized that things were not okay. And he left it all behind. He let it all fall apart because it was broken anyways.

He envisioned something new.

One day, we can be asleep, forgetting about the suffering that needs to be worked on. Or we can be working on it and feel weary and alone. The next day we can be awake and aware. We can find ourselves surrounded by others who are just as activated as we are.

On that day we should begin. Everyday is an invitation to begin again.

There isn’t much to say about 2020 except it was a helluva year. 

There isn’t much to say about 2021 except I am glad I will be here for it. Over 300,000 Americans and almost 2 million people around the world won’t, and that is worth remembering. 

Yes, it was a helluva year.  

Lately, I have been spending a lot of time on the meditation cushion, just feeling the sensations in my body and creating more and more space in my head. I recognize this as an “input” time, which makes it hard to write, and that is okay. I want to say all of the deep things, but I am still peeling back the layers and discovering more. There will be one post marked “December”, and so I am checking off that goal and letting the aspiration go. More of that moving forward, eh?

It will take me awhile to process all of the tragedy and tumult, as well as the parts that were sweet, inspiring, hilarious, and full of love, for there were moments like that too. Just last night, I laid my cheek on my son’s head and breathed in the scent of his shampoo while we looked at a book about trucks.  He can almost read it himself and that feels like a miracle. I can’t say everything is terrible because we still have each other and we are still here. 

In time, it may turn out to be that for many of us, 2020 was actually a gift, albeit one that came at a great price. Perhaps, the true legacy of 2020 will be what we do with all of the hardship.  If it opens us up to greater connection with and compassion for our families, our neighbors, our communities, and a future where we collectively care for one another, then maybe it was necessary and even worth it. I am optimistic that this outcome is possible and it is something I look forward to being a part of.  

In the meantime, I am still processing.  

May you and I both be at ease and touch joy in the simplicities of another day.

I don’t teach because I know everything; I teach because I want to know everything.

~ Teacher Lesley

I’ve figured out that the moment you cease to be curious about what you teach, you cease to be of use to your students. 

In my commitment to becoming a master teacher, I am also committing to becoming a master learner.  I am intentionally looking at the world and identifying those people, places, texts, and experiences that I need to lean toward in order to grow. As I connect with those resources, I will share them. Here are my favorites from November.

Moving Writers

This is my first year teaching middle school English – I have primarily taught “language arts” as a partner to social studies and through the lens of interdisciplinary humanities.  As I become more discipline focused, Moving Writers has been a wonderful blog to follow.  A high school classmate introduced me to it when she began writing about her very cool work incorporating environmental activism into AP Literature courses.  The posts come frequently and document implementable strategies from Kindergarten through 12th grade.  Whether you work with English language learners, emerging writers, middle school analysts, or adolescent poets, there is something with which to connect and be inspired by. Also, you can apply to write for them, which is a cool professional development opportunity. 

Soulforce Non-Violence Workshops

Growing up I attended Holman United Methodist Church in Los Angeles, CA.  We were there many days a week for service, youth group, and choir.  Our pastor was the Reverend James Lawson.  He was a powerful leader and speaker. I had no idea he was a civil rights hero, even though I recall him mentioning knowing Dr. King several times. It was only while reading March: Book One with my students that I realized Reverend Lawson knew him, knew him.  

Like sat with him –  marched with him – taught him about non-violence – called him to Memphis where he was killed – knew him.  Yeah.  

Anyways, Reverend Lawson is still alive and still teaching non-violence as a justice practice. He holds monthly workshops which are now online. You, too, can be a student of an icon and join the ongoing movement for civil rights and non-violence in the world. I highly recommend. You can visit Holman’s website for more information and registration, as well as recordings of past workshops. 

Radical Dharma as Compassion Practice with Lama Rod Owens

This teaching by Lama Rod Owens from Nalanda Institute’s Offerings for Uncertain Times was truly lovely.  The talk was titled “Radical Dharma as Compassion Practice” and includes a practice and lecture. Lama Rod Owens completed a traditional 3-year silent retreat program and was officially recognized by the Kagyu school of Tibetan Buddhism. He also completed his Master of Divinity degree at Harvard Divinity School.  Additionally he released a book with Rev. angel Kyodo williams (left) and Jasmine Syedullah  entitled, Radical Dharma, Talking Race, Love and Liberation. I especially enjoyed his practice “The Seven Homecomings”.  It was an excellent reminder that in this time of hard things and darkness, we have so many resources we can tap into for strength.  Learn more about Lama Rod and his newest book, Love and Rage: The Path of Liberation through Anger on his website, lamarod.com.  I am now wondering if his name is Rodney.  I would know SIX Rodney’s, including the one I am married to. 

Liberation and Compassion with Reverend angel Kyodo williams

As my colleague and I prepare to teach To Kill A Mockingbird to our 7th graders, I am finding this article, “Your Liberation Is On the Line”  by Rev. angel Kyodo williams very helpful. It was published in February 2020 and was adapted from a talk given at the NYC Shambhala center in May 2018.  I began studying Buddhism at that center in my 20s and spent a lot of time there, so I enjoy picturing Rev. angel in that space.  The main reason Mockingbird is still in our curriculum this year is so that there is an intentional effort to teach whiteness.  I am wrapping my head around that and will share more about that effort and my journey to do it later.  Meanwhile, I am grappling with my own feelings about whiteness and this quote is centering:

Many people in positions of dominance don’t know their own story. They don’t know their story in the way that when you’re marginalized, you are forced to know your story, to understand that you have a story, that you’re affected by a larger story, and that you’re working with all of it…people need to hear testimony that reveals how patriarchy has limited them in their white male bodies, how it has limited their ability to feel and express love. Something got stolen from them. Something got stolen from all of us. So you have to have compassion for the voice of the heart that has been lost or obscured, whether in others or in yourself…

This call to meet the oppressive experience of whiteness with compassion is a hard one, but I think it actually aligns with the encounters I have had and the ways in which I want to approach justice work.  I recently did Rev. angel’s “Really Big Sit” a divine event where I ended up practicing for four and a half hours. 

I originally thought I might last maybe two.  There was a BIPOC breakout session where people of color from around the country sat together and many expressed this was their first opportunity to do so.  It was a powerful event and then gifts of daily emails began to arrive. I am diving into many of Rev. angel’s past teachings and so many resonate that they will probably continue to be featured in this space. I’ve bought both of her books, Radical Dharma and being black. There is a half day sit coming up on December 19th.