August 17, 2018

There are a thousand words I could use to describe the last couple of weeks and months, including but not limited to crazy, tearful, laughable, exhausting, healing, surprising, maddening, and hopeful. But it wasn’t until last night that I added the word “surreal” to the list. Mostly, surreal came from seeing a link to this in my inbox: My memoir, The Color of Life, is now available for pre-order on Amazon! The book has been a labor of love, to say… Read more

August 14, 2018

Sometimes, when my boys are feeling particularly silly, they’ll change a word or two in a song to make it to their liking. Because they are six and nearly four years old, this generally results in a “No potty talk!” sort of rebuke from me. But a couple of weeks ago, they started singing the following song: Mother, we adore you,  And we lay our lives before you,  How we love you.  They were just trying to get me to… Read more

August 10, 2018

When we found out we’d be moving back to the Bay Area in the middle of May, I cloaked myself in bravery. I would be brave. I would put on my bravest face, and even if tears fell – because they always, inevitably do – I would be brave and strong and resilient, for my husband and our sons. After all, it wouldn’t be hard to return to Oakland, because the place kind of runs through our bones, with people… Read more

August 7, 2018

One of the ways I continue to color outside of the lines is by seeking to recognize, celebrate and honor different races, cultures and ethnicities. As someone who identifies as white, for a long time I didn’t think issues of race had anything to do with me …but when the power of love entered my life, I began to see the profound beauty already existent in a myriad of colors around me. In the same thread, you must get your… Read more

August 3, 2018

On Wednesday, the boys and I packed ourselves like sardines into the car and set out to drive 591 miles in a single day. I wondered about the smoke and haze of the previous week’s fires outside of Redding, California, and whether the coloring books and binoculars and shared iPad would be enough for a six-year old and almost four-year old to make it ten and a half hours in the car. But then, miracle of miracles, we made it…. Read more

July 31, 2018

I remember the first time my voice trembled, how thoughts inside my head seemed to swirl through my body, past a thumping heart and throaty vocal chords and a suddenly dry tongue. I remember a fire rising up from my belly and the way my brain fought against its own set of should’s – of how I should act and what I should say and where I should and shouldn’t say what I needed to say. I remember how an uprising… Read more

July 27, 2018

Sometimes my words are found on the page. Sometimes they come out via a Janet Jackson lapel mic or in a short homily at our little neighborhood church. Today you get the second part of the latter, still chalk-full of coloring outside the lines theology – or if you want to listen to it in full, just click here. Enjoy!  — Because when I do that – when I make these boxes and create black and white worlds of dualism in my mind –… Read more

July 24, 2018

Sometimes my words are found on the page. Sometimes they come out via a Janet Jackson lapel mic or in a short homily at our little neighborhood church. Today you get the first part of the latter, still chalk-full of coloring outside the lines theology – or if you want to listen to it in full, just click here. Enjoy!  — A year and a half ago my family moved from the San Francisco Bay Area to Seattle. And if you’ve ever moved, you… Read more

July 20, 2018

If you’ve ever moved, you know that the whole thing is not exactly the most stress-free experience. Whether you rent or own, whether you’re moving by choice or by force, whether you’re heading to place you want to go to or despise more than anywhere else on the planet, moving is not for the faint of heart. It doesn’t matter how many times I declutter the house, I will always find another bag to drop off at the Goodwill, hours… Read more

July 17, 2018

I’ve got to hand it to him. Mr. Rogers was a machine, in the kindest and peace-filled and loving sort of way. And if you haven’t yet seen the new documentary, Won’t You Be My Neighbor, you’d best get yourself to the movie theater as soon as humanly possible. As a child who watched the show for years, I think about how he taught me to love others unconditionally. As a parent, I think about what it means to treat our children… Read more

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