Conversations With Racists Like Me-Redemption

I was born into the Mormon church, baptized at eight. I received a patriarchal blessing and worked hard to be a faithful Latter-Day Saint.  I planned to attend Brigham Young University and expected to marry a returned missionary to build a family. I was continuing a faith tradition my family had worshiped in for over…

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Conversations With Racists Like Me – Indoctrination

Recently, our local paper had an article detailing a letter some concerned community members sent to the school district. They don’t like a “Black Lives Matter” banner hanging on the tennis court in front of the high school. Under the words “Black Lives Matter,” the banner reads, “Vision: Every student is a lifelong learner who…

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Conversations With Racists Like Me – Teaching Our Children

If I could go back in time, as a preschool teacher, in addition to talking about kindness, I would also talk about advantages. What they look like, what kinds there are and how we can use them to be helpers. In addition to talking about listening, I would also talk about and notice differences. We would talk about where ideas come from and how to know if an idea is worth keeping. I would spend less time reading books about naughty cats or curious dogs and more time reading books about children and families which broaden our window into the world

Conversations With Racists Like Me – Beginnings

“Conversations with Racists Like Me,” is a writing idea I have been actively trying to ignore for nearly four years.  The thought creeps into my brain when my guard is down in the wee hours of the night.  It whispers when my anxious busyness cannot distract me.  Much energy has been spent in avoidance. At…

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Bridge

TERESA’S THOUGHTS: Instead of sharing about the book writing process, I want to share why I am writing this book at all.  A book which is an autopsy of my own racism.  Where I learned it.  How I stayed blind to it.  And where I might go from here. This dissection is painful and messy…

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Schedules and Social Distancing

TERESA’S THOUGHTS:   I live in Washington state which apparently is the epicenter of the Coronavirus outbreak in the United States.  I have gone from believing I could carry on life as usual, to hunkering down at home for the foreseeable future. The common threat of this virus makes our world seems smaller and more intimate…

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Writing With Others

TERESA’S THOUGHTS:   On Monday I attended a writing group which meets in a conference room at our local library. This is not a critique group where writers share their work in progress.  Instead, this group meets to write. Most bring laptops we plug into a shared outlet at the center of the room. A few…

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Steps

 TERESA’S THOUGHTS:   Writing is a series of steps. The first step is getting the idea from my brain onto my laptop. My brain can’t be too tired or distracted. Often my fingers are unable to type fast enough for the floodgate of words spilling out. It feels like my brain is vomiting. My only goal…

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Annie

TERESA’S THOUGHTS:    Annie is the dog I thought I would never have. It seemed disloyal to love again after losing my sweet boy, Chocolate.  Time softened my heartache and eventually Annie and I found our way to each other. Annie is not a perfect dog but she is perfectly mine and I am perfectly…

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The Gift of Time

TERESA’S THOUGHTS: After years of feeling the pull to write more, I have finally rearranged my life in such a way to devote more hours to writing. This rearranging involved downsizing and rebelling against consumerism which demands I spend money to keep up and impress others. Oprah Winfrey starts her podcast, “Super Soul Conversations,” with…

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Agates

I hope I get her agates when she dies.  Maybe not her entire collection, for I don’t want to appear greedy.  Even one amber agate to soften the excruciating loss of her.  I imagine cradling it.   Letting the essence of her wash over me.  She would laugh, “There is no agate door to me once…

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Sea Glass

Let me be like sea glass Shattered free from what once made me whole Let me be broken open without fear and fuss Adrift from all I once called mine. Trusting the ancient buoyancy of salt water Surrendering to waves and rocks grinding at my edges Let me lie hidden until serenely polished To keep…

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