In honor of the fourth, I’ve been spending a lot of time thinking about what it means to be American. From the very first moment I think about the red, white, and blue, I also must think about the color of my skin, Black. What does America mean to me?
Yesterday I wrote about Religious Bystanders in Politics and racked my brain thinking of the different fields that need immediate change. Last week, a close friend asked me if I had the power to make anything I say come true without consequence, what would I do?
This weekend I spent a lot of time just existing. It’s good to take some time off of writing to recharge the battery and refill the heart. In the midst of that, I found myself hurting. The more stories I read of misfortune, the more my heart hurts. I really question shouldn’t every Christian feel the same?
One of the most eye-opening moments in my life was when I was sitting in the audience of Marc Lamont Hill speaking on Martin Luther King Day. I initially didn’t know what to expect but he eventually let me stunned as he ended the speech about activism and the concept of Ubuntu.
While I have been studying politics for nearly four years at this point, I am still a relative neophyte to the national players and inner-workings of Washington. Recently, I was asked, how do I feel about women in Politics? In short, I love women in Politics.