But there is a great difference between Adam’s sin and God’s gracious gift. For the sin of this one man, Adam, brought death to many. But even greater is God’s wonderful grace and his gift of forgiveness to many through this other man, Jesus Christ.
-Romans 5:15
Some times it's hard to believe this is even my life.
Like after the "I'm here" text every time I open the door and see her walking towards me, she's beautiful.
jeans and a sports bra no make up
yellow dress with the works
every time I can't believe this is my life
neck sweat
chocolate glazed donut
that sweater with a little more shoulder showing
The way the setting sun wraps her skin, that moment the sun desperately trying to display her inner glow for the world to see. Like an amateur painter not quite doing justice.
But how could the sun with all her life giving energy and power think for a moment it could capture all that is within this queen?
Her laugh after I say something dumb, and her better laugh when I realize she's not laughing at what I said but something she was thinking about.
The stages of her smile when it starts out little all lip, the fake one I can tell she wears as a party trick, then the real one, it is much much better when those lips stretch all the way and her teeth challenge the sun.
Her smile makes me lose my place.
Her smile makes the important topics float slowly to the ground and I'm caught staring, again
and I like that
she takes me to an ancient place
her smile next to me at the bar
It pulls the groomed civilized cultured parts of me out leaving that forgotten and suppressed instinct
I feel slowed joining the rest of life on this planet
like a stag frozen in observation
That level of existence where direct deposits, deductibles, and dry cleaning are senseless
The only thing that matters is staying towards those eyes that face
The bar empties, the music stops
Then, she blinks like throwing a blanket over her naked body she throws her eyelashes over those amazing dark brown eyes
And the world snaps back into it's orbit debit cards, national debt, and car door dents matter again
I return to the world around me my brain reminding me of the civil pleasantries those manners culture has taught us all, the music comes back and the crowd seems annoyingly invasive
The nerve of these people to remain in this bar when they know she and I are here. To disrupt us with a loud laugh or asking if I'd like another canned beer unaware that my nursing has kept it relatively full.
Sitting next to her in our tree
watching her flip through pages in the loft, surrounded by words and binding all attempting to grab my attention like the designs of flowers their unique smells in the summer as we stroll by but paling in comparison to her standing peaceful and still with that book
Her soft skin in my hands as I feel each toe periodically twitch I learn they are ticklish resting on her pink blanket as we watch a 407 year old play her namesake
The way I can't seem to stop touching her even if it's just holding her hand as we walk or while driving in the car.
The way she communicates when something doesn't seem right. How she stops everything in order to sort it out
And the way she uses her body next to mine to make the petty things roll away
how simple connect like a hug on a street corner can bring perspective back
I like that
I really like her
I could go on but I feel like I'm gushing too much
I'm not even entirely sure I know what we are or what or when the next step is
But none of that seems to matter all that matters is when will be the next time I'm near her?
...oh and tomorrow is my first day of school as a teacher.
I have too much to write about on this slow summer morning.
I kissed Tempestt Friday night and that was very, very good.
Tomorrow is my first day of school, although the kids don't officially start until next week.
And last night Travis and I got into a debate about Charlottesville.
It frustrates me for many reasons
First Travis has probably been my best friend since middle school. That's a friendship that has be going 17 years or so. We've been roommates on and off seven of those years. I've always respected and valued his perspective.
Second this debate, this issue created a wedge (even if temporary) between two friends and that is when terrorism wins. It isn't their presence being known or the momentary act of violence but the wake, the aftermath did they get inside our heads? Did they disrupt us and if so they have won.
Last night felt like the Charlottesville terrorists and Trump won.
Travis strongly believes violence is never okay as soon as the first hand connects with another individual then all bets are off and that group is illegitimate. (At least this is my lens of his lens)
I kept reverting back to a quote from Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.
I contend that the cry of "black power" is, at bottom, a reaction to the reluctance of white power to make the kind of changes necessary to make justice a reality for the Negro. I think that we've got to see that a riot is the language of the unheard.
I think that we've got to see that a riot is the language of the unheard.
a riot is the language of the unheard
Martin Luther King never condoned violence but the most important part of this quote is that he empathized and understood the violence. Although he did not walk that path and he did not advocate for that path he understood that path.
Antifa is the language of the unheard. They are the language of urgency, while you government powers sit in your congressional meeting and speak from degrees of separation about policy, budgets, and ink on paper, There are real human lives, hungry, sick, neglected, traumatized, addicted, incarcerated, and abandoned they do not have time to wait.
America was "discovered" in 1492 from it's known existence by the Europeans slavery has been allowed until 1865. 373 years of slavery before the blood of brothers, fathers, and sons had to be spilled in this countries soil so that a people group could be viewed as more than another man's property. From 1865 until 1965 another 100 years went by before the civil rights movement.
That's nearly 5 centuries of oppression. 500 years. These people hungry, needing healthcare, afraid of the police these people alive today, right now, this morning, they don't have another 500 years to wait for these government politicians to finish their privileged intellectual debates about whether or not black lives actually matter.
So Antifa picks up their clubs and they meet with the terrorists marching in Charlottesville and their clubs and pepper spray shout loudly as the language of the unheard.
They shout
NOW
not in in the year 2490
NOW
We want everyone to be treated as equal humans
Do I view them as equal to the terrorists marching in the streets?
No
Do I condone their acts of violence?
No
But do I empathize? Do I understand their urgency?
Yes
And I along with all of my white male Ohio friends all have the privilege of safely intellectually debated about the morality of these desperate people from the luxury of our bar top table with our micro brewed IPAs.
Some do not have that luxury.
I wonder before the Nazis had completely taken over Germany where their violent antifa groups resisting?
Was it considered wrong then only to later be considered morally right when the American citizens showed up wearing matching uniforms committing the same acts of violence against the same people group the Nazis?
Or when John Brown was executed by the United State of America for attempting to free slaves through violence only for that same country to commit the same acts of violence for the same exact reason two years later?
So in 1859 it was wrong to kill for the freedom of people
but in 1861 it was legal and encouraged by the same government?
So in 1921 it was morally wrong to become violent with a small group of Nazis as they began their movement but in 1939 after they had invaded another country after innocent people of Poland has been murdered then it became ok to do the same acts?
Travis and Jared both believed that we should allow Nazis, KKK, and white supremacists to march down any street they want saying whatever they want. They have the freedom of speech.
Travis said, they are just ideas, ideas are shit, ideas are nothing.
But in my opinion ideas are everything.
Ideas are the reason for every war ever fought on this planet
Ideas are the most powerful thing humans have
Ideas can create the most beautiful things and destroy thousands of lives.
Anyone should be able to say anything they want?
Ideas are nothing?
Michelle Carter using only a text message helped kill a boy who did not want to commit suicide.
Her freedom of speech killed a person.
Adolf Hitler's freedom of ideas and speech cost 60 million people their lives.
What did Hitler do other than use words from a podium.
Because of ideas and words Charles Manson killed seven people without lifting a violent hand.
Words.
Ideas.
Are powerful, they are dangerous, they are everything.
Nazis, KKK, Nationalists, White supremacist, domestic terrorists their ability to march is dangerous. Their freedom of speech is dangerous.
I understand the dilemma that the door swings both ways. Who decides which ideas should be allowed and which shouldn't? If the government gets involved in sorting through people who can and cannot protest the freedom of speech our countries cornerstone crumbles and the whole democracy falls.
But that to me feels similar to saying if we legalize same sex marriage people will soon want to marry animals and children.
I think dangerous and hateful speech is very simple to identify and point out.
Can Nazis, KKK, white supremacist, nationalists, march peacefully? or is their presence a form of violence in itself?
Is antifa right to swing clubs at "peaceful" domestic terrorist groups protesting?
Was John Brown right to raid?
I think the answer is, once it's too late and gone to far, history looks back when the sequoia of war, violence, and death was just a seed in Charlottesville and perhaps says antifa may have had a point.
And after that exhausting expression of ideas, I'm going to see if I can go on a beautiful morning walk with Tempestt through German Village because I very much enjoy spending time with her.
I contend that the cry of "black power" is, at bottom, a reaction to the reluctance of white power to make the kind of changes necessary to make justice a reality for the Negro. I think that we've got to see that a riot is the language of the unheard.
-Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.
"Here," she said, "in this here place, we flesh; flesh that weeps, laughs; flesh that dances on bare feet in grass. Love it. Love it hard. Yonder they do not love your flesh. They despise it. They don't love your eyes; they'd just as soon pick em out. No more do they love the skin on your back. Yonder they flay it. And O my people they do not love your hands. Those they only use, tie, bind, chop off and leave empty. Love your hands! Love them. Raise them up and kiss them. Touch others with them, pat them together, stroke them on your face 'cause they don't love that either. You got to love it, you! And no, they ain't in love with your mouth. Younder, out there, they will see it broken and break it again. What you say out of it they will not heed. What you scream from it they do not hear. What you put into it to nourish your body they will snatch away and give you leavins instead. No, they don't love your mouth. You got to love it. This is flesh I'm talking about here. Flesh that needs to be loved. Feet that need to rest and to dance; backs that need support; shoulders that need arms, strong arms I'm telling you. And O my people, out yonder, hear me, they do not love your neck unnoosed and straight. So love your neck; put a hand on it, grace it, stroke it and hold it up. And all your inside parts that they'd just as soon slop for hogs, you got to love them. The dark, dark liver love it, love it, and the beat and beating heart, love that too. More than eyes or feet. More than lungs that have yet to draw free air. More than your life-holding womb and your life-giving private parts, hear me now, love your heart. For this is the prize."
-Toni Morrison, Beloved
Sitting here in the silence of the morning, the peace of the day reading this magnificent Nobel prize winning novel my heart is overwhelmed and my eyes begin to water.
Yonder
Yonder they don't love you
Yonder they do not love your hands, your eyes, your mouth, your heart
Yonder
I've spent the past two weeks setting up my kindergarten classroom at Africentric. My mind has been consumed with this place. This school specific and intentionally for children in Columbus who are black. A place where they can hear to love their flesh and love it hard. They are told to love their eyes, to love their skin, love their hands, their face, their mouth, their neck, their liver, and to love their heart more than anything for that is the prize.
I'm sitting here completely emotional thinking about those children those beautiful valued and wonderful black children in our country today who are being told yonder that their skin is ugly, their hair needs straightened, and their lives don't matter.
Africentric is such a special place. I love that my city has a place to speak the message of Toni Morrison's character. Love yourself and love it hard because outside of this school you may hear a different message. That message is wrong, it is not the one you should listen to.
Doll test - The effects of racism on children
Research has proven there is a message being sent yonder and the children of America, both black and white, have received this message. Research has proven it and I have experienced it myself when I had a 5 year old preschool girl tell me she wished her skin looked like mine. One of the most beautiful, smart, and well behaved students I ever had while drawing together she told me she did not like her skin.
This is why Africentric is such a beautiful place. This is why it is so important.
Friday night White Nationalists March on University of Virginia This past Friday...2017 this message is still being sent.
This coming a week a man wrote a 10-Page Anti-Diversity screed circulating internally at Google saying women are underrepresented in tech not because they face bias and discrimination in the workplace, but because of inherent psychological differences between men and women.
Children, students, black students need to hear the message that they are loved and capable. Little girls in our schools and communities need to hear they are equally capable and are not psychologically disadvantaged because of their biology.
I wrote the above section yesterday morning before the protests turned into terrorist attacks and people were killed in Charlottesville. Yesterday has given me such a heavy heart. Why doesn't the president of our country call this a domestic terrorist attack? Why are these people shouting white lives matter. What is happening in my life time? What will happen next?
92 years and 4 days ago between 25,000 and 400,000 Ku Klux Klan members marched to show support for the KKK and demand immigration restrictions based on race and nation of origin.
156 years ago Virginia was the 8th state to secede from the United States.
Today the president of the county is demanding immigration restrictions and the KKK is marching in Virginia.
How far we have to go.
How embarrassing if I am a grandparent I will be able to give first hand accounts of domestic terrorists like the KKK and Nazis demonstrating in America. It always felt like a thing of black and white history book pages and stories from my grandparents. Things of the past, but here I sit in 2017 wondering if my grandchildren will be able to give first hand accounts of these demonstrations to their grandchildren and how very sad of a thought that is but I can't help but wonder if my grandparents had hoped I'd never be able to say it myself.
My Grandfather's Grandfather could have been alive during the civil war.
My Grandchild's grandchild could be born around 2115 nearly 250 years since my grandfather's grandfather. Will there still be first hand accounts? Will some people still believe some people are less than they are because of the pigment melanin of their skin? Is that even possible to believe such a thing more than 250 years since the civil war...It can't be possible.
It can't.
...on a different topic (much more lighthearted) This past week I think I saw Tempestt every day sans 1. She's an incredible woman. The only bad part about spending time with her is that there never seems to be enough. Her smile and those brown eyes sometimes I get lost in them. Sometimes simply walking beside her I'm caught off guard by her natural beauty and I simply exhale a "mhmm" my insides expressing an overflow of contentment in the whole situation, the flowers, the sky, the uneven brick sidewalks, the sun on my skin, this amazing woman beside me, it's more than my heart can handle and thus with my body having no known way to process this excess out comes this very satisfied 'mhmm' It's the only way my body can attempt to bottle the moment. Physically there is no like button, no internal social media post by which to forever bring back these moments and so 'mhmm' spills out but it's so much more than that.
I haven't even kissed this woman. I've known she's existed for over a year I've messaged her for months and I've seen her in person maybe a dozen times. None of it nearly enough. Goodness her voice and that laugh it's very good. Very.
Exactly like the future of this country and the world, I wonder what the future hold for us.
How will this story be told?
2017 may be the greatest year of my life so far. :)
Is Sunday morning the first part of a new week or the last chance to reflect on an old one?
I think that's why I like Sunday mornings so much. Every Sunday morning that tension between old and new, this moment.
Last week was my first week not working at the VECC. In one moment I now have a new apartment, new job, new gym, new grocery store, new routine, It's a lot of new most of it good. It can be exhausting though when I drive I'm not on autopilot anymore and my drive times are all confused. But I am happy for all of the new changes.
This past week I've spent in my classroom organizing, cleaning, and trying to find the right room environment to send the correct message to my class setting the tone for my first year of teaching. It's overwhelming.
Tomorrow starts district new hire orientation which means long tedious meetings, all. week.
I wanted to be a teacher because I want to invest in the next generation. I want to support and uplift them to give them the freedom of choices to enhance their lives. But in order to do that there are parts of the job that are tedious like these trainings and conferences. But it is all worth it in the end (hopefully)
...
Somewhere between the rebound and good luck Chuck
...
My stories are always messy. They are never cut and dried. There is always a story, drama, context, see you have to understand... well the thing is... always messy.
I wonder what the opposite is like, I wonder if there even is an opposite. Maybe everyone's story is messy and tangled. We are all interconnected, is it possible to have one neat and clean? No hang ups, no past hurt, just a pure fresh start.
Neither side reacting because of their past. Pursuing something they want to recreate or running from something they never want again. I wonder when people look at me when people talk to me do they see me or do they see in me reminders of past people whether that be good or bad isn't exactly the point. The point is am I, Adam, seen.
It's been about a year since I last talked to Kelly. 08/07/16
I wonder how she's doing. I always have this unwritten rule, like most of my life I set these strange arbitrary laws in my head and I must abide by them, after a breakup no communication for one year. None. This allows enough time for change, growth to happen to both people so that the person you loved no longer exists, their life took them down a path separate from yours and you as well. So much happens and changes in a year that when you finally do communicate the knowing is lost, slowly slipped away like sand through fingers, steady and constant. I do miss her but in such a different way now. Last year she broke my trust and I will never be able to care for her the way I did prior but that isn't to say on a much more surface level I still do, we shared some years of life together that's always connecting. If nothing else I miss our conversations and her laugh.
I wonder if I should reach out, or would that be inappropriate? I'm not even 100% confident I know what part of the country she's living in at the moment.
So much happens and changes in a year. 09/08/15 08/06/14 10/23/13 08/23/12
The further back I look the more cringe worthy my thoughts become, the more embarrassed I am of who I was. But I suppose that's a good thing. That's a sign of growth. Let my story be an example of hope, people most certainly do change. In fact I'd say it's impossible to stay stagnant because so much around us changes and we are the products of our environment. How awful the way I use to talk about the LGBTQ+ community and last week was my last day at a job in solidarity with my lesbian friend... So much happens and changes in a year, how much more in five.
My stories are always messy, but like I use to quote in 2012:
Without oxen a stable stays clean,
but you need a strong ox for a large harvest.
-Proverbs 14:4
The messier the story the better the fruits of life.
...And then Friday night happened.
Come hangout
...
What Come hang out
Is that a good idea?
We can walk around Grandview together, I don't know lol
That sounds amazing
...
...ok let me put pants on. Grandview Cafe?
Yes
And there she was...in person a real life person Not a display pic, not a filtered snap a real woman.
I approached her table, I hate meeting people and the whole situation still feels kinda wrong. I have no idea what this group of strangers knows or doesn't know about me but I want to be near her so I do. She had already cashed out expecting me...a sigh of relief, I don't have to awkwardly perform for strangers who may or may not have heard stories about me I just want some time with her
time
We walk to Staufs black coffee for me caffeine free tea for her, all to familiar but in the best sort of way.
I had nothing to say. I wanted to say everything perfectly I wanted to look smart, witty, and deep instead I'm distracted by traffic, patrons, and her smile. That smile, those soft shoulders shown by a pretty top with straps so damn thin They look like they were only one thread, spaghetti doesn't do them justice more like angel hair straps. The music in the coffee shop stops and we are about to be kicked out again familiar in the best way. I offer a post coffee shop walk, this time she agreed. We walk to my car and like a moron I offer her the oldest grimiest jacket I own she politely points to the clean and stylish blanket...(smiley emoji with the sweat drop)
We walk the streets of Grandview they are peaceful and the air has an October bite to it in early August. Eventually we find ourselves sitting at the top of a playground.
This moment is perfect, finally I have her alone, finally I have her face to face, and finally we are outside in a peaceful summer night...and I babble.
I ramble, and babble, about hook ups, dudes kissing in the park, and exes...
Since January I'd been waiting for this moment to hear her thoughts, her thoughts on love, on life, her thoughts on the ocean and rain, her thoughts on her family her future, her opinion of pickles, anything everything. No work in the morning, no schedule, no restrictions just the woman I have been dying to meet for over a year and myself...and I bring up that one time at Bibibop and Ericca (closed eyed straight mouthed emoji)
Maybe my subconscious was attempting to scare her away, maybe I was testing, showing her how I'm filled with flaws and an idiot like all other men I don't know why I spent that time with her the way I did.
Eventually she slide over to my side of the landing she shared her blanket with me...and I was done with words. She mentioned how cats only meow to communicate with other species, They only use their words when communication doesn't come naturally. She sat beside me and we fell silent, words became obsolete.
Continuously her phone rang, and the whole situation still feels kinda wrong. I wanted to sit there with her until we could watch the sunrise together, but I couldn't. Breaking the silence I said "we should probably go" I gave her back my portion of the blanket and slid down the slide.
