This short collection of women’s responses is a wonderful read.
It also helps explain why I blog so little these days. Why? Who’s reading? And I’ve got other stuff to do!
Letters: Why Don’t Women Write to the Editor? Because They’re Doing Absolutely Everything Else – The Atlantic
— Read on www.theatlantic.com/amp/article/559946/
To what extent should we prioritize our individual discomfort, our “duty” to follow our own moral code, above concern for the consequences that our choices may have on others?
Many, both religious and those whoa re simply passionate about their political views, have argued in conversations about the 2016 election and its aftermath about “voting your conscience” against “voting pragmatically.”
The argument seems to boil down to this: some folks, faced with a Trump vs Hillary choice, elected to vote in support of a 3rd party candidate in order to avoid giving direct support to a candidate whose positions imply (or directly require) contradicting one’s moral code. Others, faced with the prospect of two candidates they abhorred, may have filtered their “lesser of two evil” choice through a singular moral lens: for the typical Evangelical, this seemed to revolve around abortion or holding onto a SCOTUS seat for the sake of overturning Roe v Wade. For Bernie supporters, their vote for Hillary perhaps stemmed only from a desire to preserve some particular progressive value like access to abortion or Obamacare.
Either way, on both sides of the spectrum, people were defending a vote for a flawed candidate on moral grounds. In my newsfeed, at least, the more religious the voter, the more the defenses dragged in the name of Jesus in ways I find — at best — uncomfortable. I think I reached peak “Oh for pete’s sake!” when Evangelical leaders tried to argue that Trump had found Jesus and was a baby Christian. *rolls eyes*
Those who advocate a more practical approach to voting in American elections point out two things: voting 3rd party in a national election will always be a throwaway vote, until those outside parties can break into the system. Second, if one of the two mainline candidates is truly atrocious, failing to vote against that person or splitting the vote of the opposing candidate (as happens when libertarians abandon the GOP or the greens/socialists walk away from the Dems) ends up being a de facto vote for the candidate you hate.
Further, running your candidate through a singular moral lens forces you to ignore a critical element: the aftermath of the policies a candidate espouses. Put simply, I find it appalling (galling?) that Christians voted for Trump in order to “prevent” abortion while ignoring (and continuing to ignore) horrific abuses against many currently living humans who are being negatively affected by the decisions he and the Republicans have made over the past 18 months.
I long who gave up the one-issue voting stance as unhelpful and short-sighted. No decisions that involve humans can be truly 100% good or totally horrible. I’ve never met anybody (intelligent or educated or even just basically informed) who could wholly endorse one party’s entire platform.
It’s time to drop the euphemism “voting your conscience” and call it what it is: voting your priorities.
Because that’s what voting is here in America.
Most of us have too little money (and therefore no power) to influence any given election. It’s true that state and local races can come down to a handful of votes. So this discussion targets larger races where my one vote in a SC district genuinely matters only a feather in the whole situation. If at all.
The polls and data continue to confirm strong Evangelical support for Trump as a candidate in 2016 and as a President now.
I heard a lot of FB timeline voices offering their reasons either for a 3rd party vote (understandable) or voting for Trump. But labeling one’s reasons for voting a certain way as “conscience” or “pragmatic” gives us too easy of an excuse for the fallout of any given election. Acknowledging that a vote is, instead, a statement of ranked priorities forces us to be honest about what matters to us.
When we allow ourselves to detach from the visible and real human consequences of the entire gamut of a party’s political platform, we can pretend it’s ok because WE did the only right thing we could. WE “voted our conscience.”
No. You voted your highest priority, the single thing (or three) you can’t live with (or without). That’s it. Plain and simple.
When we make a particular vote about individual holiness, it takes our attention away from the collective and institutional outcomes of various policy positions.
Here’s the issue: your individual “conscience” isn’t more important than the trade-offs your vote will empower.
I’m not suggesting a paralyzing level of fear that my vote somehow has outsized effect on any given political system. It doesn’t. But if I run the decision regarding what candidates I will support through only an individualistic filter, I may miss critical elements of the moral and social calculus that drives our voting decisions.
It seems to be a weakness of the American mindset to prioritize the individual too much over the collective / society / community. By recognizing that my vote indicates my priorities and preferences, rather than some moral statement about the universe, I might be able to see the consequences of public policy more fairly.
I think that would be a win for all of us.
A couple weeks ago, we met a friend for Turkish food and I experienced the most amazing and delicious “Iskander”: flavorful, tender lamb and steak overtop crunchy croutons, topped with a savory red sauce, spiked with garlic, and served alongside aromatic rice and a cooling yogurt sauce.
A week later, I found myself in possession of some leftover steak and sausages from a weekend cookout. And so the experiment began. All I have are my Snapchat photos to immortalize this delicious meal! Will 100% make again. In fact, we had it again 2 days later!
Fun fact: Iskander is Turkish for Alexander, as in “the Great.”
My Turkish Iskander Experiment
Ingredients Used
MAKE TOASTY GARLIC GARNISH
Heat a bit of butter and some olive oil together in a sturdy skillet. (Cast iron for the win!) Add the slices of garlic and toast in the oil until they are at least golden brown. Remove to a paper towel lined plate to cool. When you have some downtime, toss the chopped toasted garlic with the sun dried tomatoes and some of the tomatoes’ oil. Season with salt if needed -taste it first. Set aside as garnish.
MAKE GARLICKY CROUTONS
Add the cubed bread to the flavored oil/butter and sauté until they’re crunchy and golden brown all over. You might need to add more butter and oil to the pan, and season with a little sea salt if you’d like. Remove to plates – we’ll be topping them with the meat in a second.
FLASH SAUTÉ THE MEAT
Throw the minced garlic into the pan with a little olive oil, and sauté it for a minute to release some flavor. Add the thinly sliced meat to the pan to crisp it up and heat it. I added a dollop of sriracha and some Italian seasoning at this point because why not? Once the meat is crisped, divide it among the plates, setting it atop the piles of croutons.
MOAR TOMATO!!
Dice a couple tomatoes and add to the hot pan. Cook for just a minute to release the juices and pick up some of the garlic from the pan. When you’re happy with it, split it among your plates. (You could also use some red spaghetti sauce, but it was nice fresh.)
Finally, top each serving with the sundried tomato and toasted garlic mixture.
At the restaurant, this was served alongside rice and a typical Middle Eastern yogurt/cucumber sauce. I didn’t do that, but it’s a great complement.
DONE!
I hope you run your own Iskander Experiment next time you’ve got leftover grilled meat. IT’S SO GOOD!
I’m not gonna hop on the no-Facebook bandwagon. I mean, wasn’t it obvious from the very start that Facebook was trading our privacy for ad revenue? We all hopped on board the Facebook bandwagon when we realized there’s no better way to keep tabs on Aunt Linda AND that friend from high school who own a ridiculous cat AND be notified that your favorite local band is playing a show next Tuesday at a dive bar downtown.
For all of its broken values and systems, Facebook does its thing better than anything else can: it connects us.
Problem is, I think a lot of us are realizing we might not want to be quite so connected. 😉
And yet…..
I think I’ve reached a favorable detente with Zuckerburg’s tool of social dysfunction. I check it about once a day, maybe twice. I flip through notifications, like or laugh or heart at a bunch of posts, catch all the dank memes, note the photos of babies and pets, and chuckle at jokes. Often I’ll see an article that’s worth my time, but the latest shift in the algorithms probably means that won’t be as common anymore.
Besides that, I’m done.
And it feels so good.
2018 is my year to “Kondo everything” – I’m applying the minimalism filter to whole swaths of my house and life, paring down to what matters to me and selling/donating/giving away the rest. I love it. It’ll probably take me more than 2018 to get it all done, and that’s just fine. It too me 40+ years to accumulate all this stuff.
I’m like this simpler approach to life. There are days when I wonder whether my inner pack rat is going to recoil in horror when it can’t find some bauble in three months that might have been useful. *shrugs* Whatever. I don’t care. I wish I’d done this 10 years ago.
I thought I’d be sadder about spending less time on Facebook / Instagram / Snapchat (that big update a few months ago was total trash)…. but I’m not. I still fall into Twitter about every other day, because the conversations I can snoop on there are moving at the speed of current events, and I tend to read about ideas there long before they hit the mainstream. So I guess that’s a vice I can tolerate.
But the rest of “social media”? Eh. It’s hard for me to believe that anyone out there gives two shakes about what I think. That’s one reason I’ve had almost nothing to say here for the past two years. Who’s my audience? Does anybody even care? If a blogger writes a post and no one reads it, what’s it good for?
I don’t have any easy solutions for the world outside in 2018: the school shootings, the terrorist attacks, the impending wars, the shitshow of American politics. But I don’t have to subject anyone else to my political opinions, and I kind of don’t really care what 99% of people have to say. It’s not the course I would have set for myself 5 years ago, but it’s the one that keeps me sane in the Age of Trump.
Try it. You might find your own Freedom from Facebook sweet spot. Besides, less time on FB means an extra hour to Kondo that shit in the hall closet. Win-win!
I often read about social movements on Twitter long before they hit any sort of mainstream discussion. If you can put in the time to curate your Twitter following, you can find quite a world of stimulating (and sometimes asinine) discussion.
One subset of people I follow happen to be Christians or ex-Christians who are trying to shine the light of #metoo on sexual abuse in the church. Some of these folks have coined the hashtag #Exvangelical to describe their abandonment of Evangelicalism, especially in the wake of the 2016 election and its aftermath. This started with #emptythepews and #churchtoo, a couple hashtag discussions about unchallenged rape and sexual abuse in Christian circles that hasn’t yet forced much of a behavior change or policy changes. But the community grew to include thousands of Tweeps who flocked (haha) to share their stories of abandoning a faith they were raised in.
I didn’t mean to become an #Exvangelical…. until one day, I realized I was already there.
This is going to get messy if I try to write a post about it. Let me do a Frequently Asked Questions instead – I can probably hit all the salient points, reassure some fears, generate others, and keep it shorter.
Q. So, if you’re an #Exvangelical, does that mean you’re no longer a Christian?
A. Not at all. I’m 100% committed to the Gospel and to faith in Jesus Christ for salvation. I affirm the historic creeds of Christendom. I’m not here to tell anyone else how they should feel about their church affiliation.
What I’ve abandoned is Evangelicalism: that particularly American, individualistic strain of Christianity which prioritizes a personal conversion experience above all else, tends toward extreme biblical literalism, and is currently lusting after political power and a “win” in the “culture wars.”
Q. Wait, you can’t have it both ways. If you aren’t an Evangelical anymore, then you are left with only apostate, liberal, compromised churches for fellowship, right? And not all Evangelical churches are power-hungry or harboring Tea Party conventions.
A. Way to be judgmental? Also, I’m not sure you asked a question.
Ok, this is a critical point, and I understand why people who’ve been thoroughly taught that there are only two options — in the tribe of the True Believers or standing outside in the wrong –struggle to see alternate pathways for genuine Christian belief. It would take me weeks of blog posts to untangle this point. If you care that much, either Google till you find others who’re writing about their faith journeys, or have a cuppa with me and we’ll talk it out.
The short response to your query is this: the world isn’t a simple “you’re in or you’re out” with regards to Evangelicalism being the only right way to be a Christin. If you genuinely believe that, then we probably aren’t going to do anything except disagree over fundamental assumptions.
The Church is larger than I was led to believe. This has happened to me twice in my life: first, when I was in Fundamentalism and left it for the PCA. I remember how betrayed yet happy I felt to discover that Evangelicals didn’t worship Satan’s devil music, and they were pretty great people. And now, I’ve learned that Evangelicalism never had a lock on being “right.” There are good, faithful believers in many faith traditions. Romans 14 speaks to this pretty strongly, IMO, and I recommend reading it and taking a deep breath if this post is making you angry or anxious.
Q. So what’s changed for you? How are you different than you were, say, 5 years ago?
A. This will be easier as succinct bullet points. Again, I’m not inviting you to come argue with me over the bullet points. They’re here for reference, not as an invitation for argument.
Q. I think you’re dead wrong.
A. You know what? I sometimes wonder that myself. Like, how do we know anything about anything?
One of the worst things about any Fundamentalist system – and Evangelicalism has a whole lot of Fundamentalism in its DNA, despite its rock worship bands and willingness to let megachurch pastors say “shit” in a sermon or talk about masturbation — One of the worst things about this system is the way it stifles doubt.
The opposite of doubt isn’t faith. It’s certainty. And certainty can be dead wrong. Faith is hopeful; it can co-exist with doubt because faith IN God means I’m ok with letting Him catch these details I can’t make sense of myself.
I’d be a fool if I were so arrogant as to think my little mind can contain the universe, the whole of God’s will toward mankind, the order of events of salvation – ha! what hubris!
When you let the world get perfectly quiet all around you, what do you hear? Do you hear little tiny questions creeping into your mind? “What if I”m wrong? What if, once I die, I’m just….dead? What if there isn’t a God? What if the Hindus or the Jews or the Muslims are actually right?”
I’m not saying you have to doubt to be a good Christian; that seems a bit backward. But good Christians can –must!–be honest about their epistemic uncertainty.
I left Evangelicalism because I’m tired of people telling me they have The Answer. You don’t. You and I are in the same place: we seek wisdom in the Word to see God for who He is. And we shake our heads at the ugliness in this world. And those two ideas conflict in uncomfortable ways. Can’t we be honest about that for just a minute?
And once we’ve got this honesty train going, how about we be honest about a few more things we shouldn’t claim certainty about…. like whether life actually begins at conception, or how exactly this world came to be and the processes of creation, or pretending like every issue has a clear-cut moral answer just waiting out there along the side of the road carrying a big ol’ “I AM THE RIGHT ANSWER” sign.
Q. So where are you going to church these days?
A. You aren’t going to like this….but truth is, I haven’t been to church in a while. I didn’t mean to leave…. it just….happened. I stepped away from music ministry in 2016 because of a job change, and when I tried to come back, all I got from the guys in charge was crickets. 
So …I left.
I want to find a new church home, I really do. I miss the sacraments and how they shape our understanding of what really matters in this world.
But I also needed to detox from the grind of the “Christian lifestyle,” where everything is matchy-matchy and sorted out. I’d been uncomfortable about that for years, but I genuinely enjoyed the worship ministry team and the fellowship I found among my fellow musicians. It’s a special thing to lead a congregation in praise, and I was honored to do it for as long as I did.
Aside from the bond I had with my fellow musicians, I have very little in common with women my age in an Evangelical church. I never had kids (wasn’t on purpose; just never happened) so my #1 function as a woman in the PCA went completely bust. I don’t enjoy babies or little kids. I don’t have endless stories about diaper poops and elementary escapades to link me to these women whose lives are so different from mine. I hold two masters’ degrees and am married to a man who’s practically earned two PhD’s. I love video games, science fiction, and progressive metal. I can read the Bible in the original Greek and Hebrew, and — if I’m being truly honest here — am more qualified (if we’re talking about education) to teach the Bible than nearly all of the male elders at the churches where I’ve been a member. (Except I don’t have a penis, so…. ) Making “small talk” with adults at any church function will always be a struggle, unless there’s a gamer/metalhead church out there somewhere I haven’t found.
It wears me out to think of jumping into the church dating scene again – I mean “finding a church.” Because that’s what it is, right? A bad dating game. A church is a collection of people, and honestly, it’s the camaraderie and community that differentiate two congregations. The trappings and faith statements and liturgy have their own effects, but the day-in, day-out experience of being a member of a particular church rests entirely on the group of people who meet there. The only way to find a new one, unless you’re going to go all Fundamentalist and filter out all but a couple based on their statements of faith, is to visit around and smile politely and be the weird stranger and listen to people constantly tell you how much they SO HOPE YOU’LL KEEP COMING.
Gah, the sheet awkwardness of it gives me hives.
And, to be frank, I don’t know where I belong. Where we belong. I want a church where Grace is central (and not just talked about, but lived out as Grace); where sermons are short yet meaningful; where people are open about their struggles; where Christian lingo isn’t so pervasive that people from outside are turned off; where the prevailing theme isn’t “how to do the right things this week so God will love me more.”
With kickass music.
Q. Last question: Aren’t you afraid people are going to be disappointed in you? What about all your former students? You could tear them down too!
A. If my students are willing to throw out their entire belief system because of what they see me do (or don’t do), then I failed as a teacher. I never wanted robots, or students who would accept what I said as THE right answer. I pushed my students to wrestle, reason, challenge, think for themselves. So I’m 99% sure they’re going to be ok, and I’m also sure the Holy Spirit is in charge of bringing people to faith and holding onto them. If you think my actions are going to overwhelm His work, well, that’s the disagreement right there.
Are people disappointed in us for leaving the PCA? Hell if I know. I’m not sure anyone really cares. If you’re a committed Evangelical, then good for you. Please, for the love of all that’s holy, question the connection between your faith and your politics, your power systems, your views on social injustice and the culture. But have at it. (See: what I just said about the Holy Spirit, above.)
I wrote this post because I know thousands of people– mostly Millennials–have left the Church in the wake of the 2016 election. You’re not alone, friends, and please don’t throw out your own relationship with God just because you’re not happy with how things are going in the American Church.
I don’t think Evangelicals really grasp how UGLY this power-grab has been. You have sold the Gospel for a pot of beans. Actually, Esau got a WAY better deal than you did on Trump and the Tea Party, because at least his mess of beans filled his belly for one night. This whole moral-majority nonsense has cost you pretty much everyone under the age of 40…..and people like me who didn’t sign up to ride this crazy train all the way to the final destination. American Evangelicalism is nearly all white. And as the cultural influence of white people (especially white men) wanes in the face of America’s changing demographics, it’d be nice if you didn’t drag Jesus down with you as you howl in despair at your loss of power and influence.
Jesus TOLD Y’ALL THIS. He TOLD YOU that following Him means picking up a cross and dying. Y’all. What part of “a corn of wheat must fall into the ground and die” made you think you’d get to run America? What makes you think worshiping guns and libertarianism and America and military might and “family values” is the equivalent of “taking up your cross” and following Jesus?
*raises hands* Peace. I’m done. I’m not trying to start a fight. We could go have a beer instead.
I’m an #Exvangelical because I love God and the Gospel. You may disagree with me, but at least you know where I stand.
Marie Kondo made a splash a year or so ago when she brought her style of de-cluttering spaces into the mainstream with her book (and website and Instagram and … and….)
Kondo’s services command a waiting list a mile long in Japan, but for the rest of us, her book breaks down her radical, two-pronged approach to tidying. First, put your hands on everything you own, ask yourself if it sparks joy, and if it doesn’t, thank it for its service and get rid of it. Second, once only your most joy-giving belongings remain, put every item in a place where it’s visible, accessible, and easy to grab and then put back. Only then, Kondo says, will you have reached the nirvana of housekeeping, and never have to clean again.
from this post about 8 lessons one author learned when she tried the Kondo method
Of course, almost as soon as Kondo’s method went mainstream, so did the critiques: does this woman really expect us to talk to our spaces and objects? And isn’t it the height of privilege to spend a month or a year lovingly handling every item you own, giving it a lovely goodbye, and moving a mass of materials to Goodwill or friends down the line?
Well, sure.
But I think Marie Kondo is on to something I’d like to get behind as well: Modern life dulls our senses. We own SO MUCH CRAP that we can’t even remember what we own. The drive to earn so that we may buy is a nasty form of idol-worship, often excused when the items we buy are good things in themselves.
For example, I love books. We have hundreds of books. I’ve never counted all the books I’ve read in my life, but it’s probably a thousand or more. Bookstores fill me with glee. Books smell good, feel good, make my brain happy.
But do we need two rooms of our house devoted to them? Increasingly, we’re both starting to answer that question with No. Modern living is wearing all of us down to nubs, shells of empty people with shouty social media friendships lacking meaningful relationships. Piled higher and deeper with stuff but all of it will burn.
Kondo, who is Japanese, raises eyebrows among Westerners in the way she enters a home of one of her clients for a deep cleanse. She seats herself on the floor to meditate, and asks the permission of the home or space to be part of it for her mission to pare down the owner’s objects to the core.
Sounds weird, right? Sounds “Eastern” …. I can still recall the disdain the devout people who raised me threw toward anything mystical or Eastern or “New Age.” (Anybody else remember how Christians were terrified of the New Age in the 1980s? Is the New Age here yet? lol)
Seems to me that there’s wisdom in Kondo’s respect for a space and its arrangement. Like we Westerners would consume less if we were more aware of what’s already here. I don’t think Lewis or Tolkien or James KA Smith would rail against Marie Kondo’s recognition that spaces themselves can have meaning beyond their physical structures. Is there a “spirit” in my house I need to placate? Nah. But that doesn’t mean my home isn’t more than the sum of the nails and boards that hold it together.
In the Kondo method, you go through your belongings by category (clothes or shoes or kitchen dishes or books) and handle each one. Your goal is to determine whether that object still brings you joy. If no, then give it away or get rid of it. If you’re not sure, then consider whether the item has outlived its usefulness to you. Thank the item for serving you well, and let it go.
Let it go.
What’s left will be more precious, more valuable because it’s not drowning in the flotsam of our consumer culture, with our “planned obsolescence” and throwaway junk. I’ve walked ruins built by Romans two millennia ago, or the Etruscans centuries before them. They laughed in the face of obsolescence. We’re still paying good money to walk through the foundations of their houses.
*****
I’ve decided to embark on a lot of Kondo-ing in 2018 –for more than just my possessions, though I hope to pare down what we own significantly by the end of the year. But I’ve realized that I can Kondo a lot of things: my ambitions, my to-do list, my time spent on Facebook, my relationships that I spend emotional energy trying to maintain but that no longer bring me joy.
I don’t think I’m in danger of turning into an ascetic monk living in a cell, but my 40s have become a decade of heightened clarity and awareness of a deep drive for meaning across the entire spectrum of my life.
There are some friendships I’ve realized have run their course. Like Marie Kondo’s method of thanking and releasing a beloved souvenir that needs to go, I’m taking time to think through the people in the more distant edges of my life. I tend to feel guilty about not keeping up with so many folks who have fallen out of my regular orbit because our lives no longer cross paths. And I’m realizing it’s ok to examine those relationships, thank them for making my life richer at the time, and let those people go. (For clarity, let me note that I’m not calling people up and saying, “Bye, Felicia!” None of these folks have interacted with me in years, and if they were to pop back into my life, I’d be happy to reinvest.)
We don’t realize the weight of all of this clutter… until it’s gone. A messy desk IS a sign of genius and a place for creativity, but there’s a difference between productivity and living an undisciplined life.
I realize it’s going to take more than a year’s resolution toward dejunking the corners and weeding my Facebook friends list to provide me the clarity I’m searching for. But I can tell the journey itself IS the blessing. Forcing myself to confront the way I seek to use objects for fulfillment makes me recognize what really does bring me deep satisfaction.
It’s time to let go: of dreams deferred but no longer as tempting; of reference books we bought in a former life when we thought we would be in full-time ministry; of people who are good folks but there’s only so much emotional energy in my life. I want to make room to enjoy the the friendships and books and art and games and food and spaces that remain.
Needing is one thing, and getting — getting’s another.
PS. We’re selling some great theological books on eBay, if you’re into that kind of thing. I’ve cleared out most of the minor and major prophets; working my way backwards from Psalms to Genesis right now, and I’ll start posting New Testament commentaries in a week or two. We’re hopeful our lovingly curated collection will go forth to help many others who need it more than we do.
One pan! SRIRACHA MAPLE PORK CHOPS, CRISPY SWEET POTATO ROUNDS, and BRUSSELS SPROUTS
– Lori’s Dinner Experiment #3627
I’m sorry it took me so long to get on the sriracha train. I was dumb. I will happily admit this as I shove another spicy-sweet bite into my mouth. This quick one-pan dinner experiment came together in about 30 minutes, and I couldn’t be happier!
Serves 2, as written here
Preheat oven to 425. Lightly oil a rimmed baking sheet.
Slice a sweet potato into rounds about half inch thick or so. Arrange on one half of sheet. Sprinkle with brown sugar, salt, pepper, fajita or chipotle seasoning, and a drop or two of sriracha sauce (each). Roast 15 min then flip before adding the pork:
Drizzle pork chops with olive oil, salt, pepper, sriracha (just a little), and maple syrup. (Chops should be lightly covered but not dripping.) Add to the sheet pan and return to oven to roast for about 25min.
Meanwhile, trim ends from Brussels sprouts and toss with olive oil, salt, and pepper. Add to baking sheet – if you’re out of room, roast in separate pan or skillet for 20 minutes. During final minutes of cooking, splash with plum vinegar or lemon juice before returning to oven to finish. If you happen to have chopped, cooked bacon on hand, you could sprinkle the bacon and grated parmesan over the sprouts to take them to the next level.
Remove pork from oven after 25 min and let rest on plate, covered. Remove sprouts before they overbake. Leave sweet potatoes until they’re darkly browned on both sides.
Lessons I learned from this experiment:
Learn, teach, or do calligraphy at Bill's Space.
Both together are better than one
A site to discuss better education for all
Because every night, something has to go in the oven.
Everything Deserves A Reaction
He must become more, we must become less
Living with Fattitude
Whatever you do, do it for the Lord
Pondering education, technology, and making a difference
Surviving motherhood with sweet baby laughs, wine, and sarcasm.
A blog about instructional design and technology in libraries.
Going to the moon & complaining about it
examining language and race in education
Unmasking racism, classism, and sexism in formal education: Ruby Payne, deficit thinking, Teach for America, "grit," "no excuses" practices, and the "word gap"
Pushing the Boundaries & Exploring the Realities of Teaching in Higher Education
Shalom in the City
