Being “in the way” is one of the most American things we do. We are not a subtle people. We’re loud. We take up space. We stand a little too close to the process and ask what’s happening, ideally with care, consistency, and attention at each step. We
You know the ‘enough’ trap. Most of us fall into it without even noticing. It tends to show up when something really, really matters. When there’s risk, or grief, or change we can’t control but are deeply invested in. Our brains go looking for something solid, something measurable,
One of the most important, and one of the most fun, things I’ve ever done is create my own Bible study group. I know. Stay with me. It’s a wild ride and totally worth it. My experience with modern Christianity didn’t start until my late twenties. I
Growing up in poverty tends to dull the shine on Christmas. Santa doesn’t usually visit your home, or even your block. And if he did manage to swing by, he’d bring things like school supplies, batteries, maybe a winter coat if you were lucky. Predictably, I grew a
Every community eventually reaches a moment when a difficult truth rises to the surface and, almost reflexively, we reach for the same tired question: Why didn’t you say something? We ask it in families. We ask it in workplaces. We ask it in schools and nonprofits. We ask it
After high school, instead of taking a year off or heading straight into undergrad, I moved across the country and went to culinary school. (The early 2000's were a different time kids.) Our first semester kitchen class was all foundations: knife skills, the five mother sauces, every shape
I have taken exactly one swimming lesson in my life. I must’ve been six, maybe seven, on that windy summer day at the Richfield community pool. I don’t remember much about the actual lesson, or what skill we were supposed to learn, or whether I passed whatever small
I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be taking notes on my phone while weighing the pros and cons of filling this prescription at the pharmacy. No one should. But now isn’t the time for philosophical musings on what should be basic human rights. Now’s the time
My third grader has decided she wants to be a fox for Halloween this year. After some rummaging through closets, I find a few crumpled pieces of orange fabric, brew more coffee, say a prayer to whatever saint keeps an eye on overly ambitious craft projects, and dust off my
I’ve been thinking about how harm moves. How it refuses to stays contained. How it reshapes the ground around it. With every new account of sexual violence, the conversation about power and responsibility grows more urgent. Another name. Another reckoning. Another reminder that unchecked power doesn’t just wound
When I’m feeling particularly anxious, I find comfort in the universal laws of math: algebra, physics, statistics. Bizarre statement, I know. You’d think it would be something like philosophy or prayer or reading my favorite book for the thousandth time. The thing about math that I find so
I make the world’s worst grilled cheese sandwiches. They are truly terrible. Somehow they end up both underdone and scorched. It’s strange, considering I went to culinary school and once wrote an entire term paper about sandwiches: their pitfalls, their perfection, and everything in between. I know the