ZionLove

His eyes: Intense as the night sky over the Serengeti His skin: soft as satin bathed in the sun His laughter: a symphony of perfectly innocent joy Before him, I cannot remember Days spent with him, I cannot forget His presence on this earth somehow justifies mine.

Read more "ZionLove"

Preacher Man

All this talk about the Pope got me thinking about my favorite preacher; my favorite professor of the Gospel; my favorite teacher. His name was Reverend Sullivan. He was a tall thick man with happy eyes. Every Sunday morning, he would walk down the left aisle of the main sanctuary of Zion Baptist Church with a […]

Read more "Preacher Man"

Celebrate

I will not forget him, and I hope I never will. I will never forget the sound of his laughter, nor will I ever forget the sound of consternation when he was disappointed. I will carry my memories of him, proudly.

Read more "Celebrate"

For John

Perhaps the responsibility to steward the spoils of our ancestors with compassion and grace is the other side of the blessing.

Read more "For John"

ANOTHER GENERATION OF US

My precious Grandson, Zion, just turned 3 years old. Those three years were, for me tantamount to the blink of an eye. Time moves so fast in this journey we call life. And so I got to thinking about the women in my bloodline; about their strength and about the fact that this little boy is their legacy, as well as mine.

Read more "ANOTHER GENERATION OF US"

Becoming Whole

I would like to hear an African American lead a dialog about their heritage by acknowleding the contribution that Africa made to their DNA, to the the curl in their hair; to the strength of their character, to their ability to survive challenge after challenge, to the power of their body… rather than the Native American or a white person’s contribution to their DNA which tamed that curl, diluted the melanin in their skin, and reduced their pride in being of African descent.

Read more "Becoming Whole"