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Profile
On a purse shopping expedition, I encountered a black patent leather stunner. I cradled her over to the mirror to confirm what I knew—I would take her home. The mirror had other plans…this mammoth mom-purse could fit over my head and shoulders. I carry only a wallet, keys, and cell phone—which could fit into a lunch sack. A sales associate rushed over just as I prepared my rejection speech. She insisted the bag was very stylish like me, blah blah blah. (As if one could separate an Indian from her money that easily.) Despite her efforts to earn her commission, I would save my money for something…smaller.…
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A House Divided
“If a house is divided against itself, that house will not be able to stand” (Mark 3:25). The headlines recently, in America, were certainly unsettling for a news and commentary junkie like myself. The United States seemed to be imploding, committing suicide on live television. For some time now I have believed that we are witnessing the self-destruction of the United States. I often think of the words of Abraham Lincoln, who said, “America will never be destroyed from the outside. If we falter and lose our freedoms, it will be because we destroyed ourselves.” History will show whether this proves true or not. On Friday morning July 8th, many…
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7 Baby Steps Whites Can Take to Fight Racism
While studying gender in my PhD program, I was assigned to read Gender and Jim Crow: Women and the Politics of White Supremacy in North Carolina, 1896–1920. At the risk of sounding like Nerd Girl, it was the best book I read all year. One of its strengths was that it introduced readers to the African-American middle class that existed between 1890 and 1960. Of special interest to me were photos of male and female seminary students studying theology—including Koine Greek—under male and female professors. Most white seminaries didn’t admit women till the 1970s, let alone hire them as professors. I had been taught that the U.S. Women’s Movement in…
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Racism: Blind to Privilege
I had never considered myself a racist. When I was kid, my parents helped me send the coins in my piggy bank to Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.’s work. And I have family members who are African-Americans and Latinos. So I thought I was good. I got my first hard look at my blindness when I took Greek from an African-American professor. He told us that racism was not a white problem; it was a sin problem. He gave international examples of darker and lighter groups hating each other. Afterward, I said I wanted to be color-blind, and he stopped me. “You need to see the color,” he said. “God…