To live in an America free of prejudice requires constant work–work that may never be finished.
There are people far better equipped to write poignantly and eloquently about this day’s celebration of Martin Luther King, Jr., but I am mindful of the fact that offering up words of encouragement and support and empathy is important.
Today ought to be a day in which we look for unity, to applaud our forward momentum, to carefully reconsider our missteps. That’s what I felt growing up–this was a celebratory day, not a reminder of how far we have to go–and even now I’m troubled by how wide that chasm seems.
The nation’s intensified gaze upon our growing racial divide, sharpened among police brutality, riots, and elections, has emboldened a lot of people harboring racist words and deeds. I always wanted to believe they were the human equivalent of carnival sideshows–Look! A racist! What a creature!–but in truth so many of them live and breathe openly among us. Continue reading “Let us turn our thoughts today to Martin Luther King.”
The last time I changed employers, George W. Bush was president.
To be more specific, Bush was still president, and Barack Obama wasn’t even the Democratic nominee yet. John Edwards was still in the race at that point. So was Hillary Clinton.
This week, as I packed up my office in Davidson and closed the chapter on just shy of nine years of fundraising work there, I happened upon the letter first offering me a job at the college. It was dated on the same day I’ll start my next endeavor, which is to serve as Vice President for Advancement at Mitchell Community College.
This all began back in September, when I got a couple of emails about the opening at Mitchell, one of which I forwarded to Kel. I spent a little time thinking about it, then a couple of days later, I called the firm running the executive search process to ask a few questions. I was in Chicago at the time. Continue reading “Community”
When it comes to dealing with a winter storm, we all seem to follow the same script.
It’s entertaining to see how similar we are in extraordinary–if not unexpected or familiar–circumstances.
I’m talking, of course, about what we do when it snows in the South. We thin-blooded folk follow predictable routines, flooding the grocery stores in the preceding hours of precipitation to obsessively purchase bread and milk. Further, based on my own trip to the market, we also keenly stocked the ingredients for chili–though not as barren as the bread aisle, the holding places for kidney beans, ground beef, sour cream, and shredded cheddar cheese were noticeably sparse.