Journeying Toward Freedom and Equity

  The Resistant Activist When we were children, our mother taught us compassion, showed us how to reach out to those in need (it might have been free day care, staying at our house, or giving of any surplus we had of food).   As an adult, when I taught CCD, in a rural community outside Albany, I talked to my students about Lent. The lesson I gave was to be reminded of the children who lived in Albany who had much less than them, and what did it mean to sacrifice.   The children were asked to give up something that they possessed, and we would give these items to children in Albany. They were to be guided by their parents. (Did not want them giving away something that maybe their parents would not approve.)   Every child had a reason for what they contributed:   a favorite piece of clothing, money earned from chores, a favorite toy.   We then made arrangements to actually visit a south-end neighborhood ministry in Albany (1970’s).   The parents and ...

https://ignatiansolidarity.net/blog/2021/03/23/willing-to-look-at/ We have a sign in our Florida condo that says, “Blessed.” It serves as both decoration and declaration. It blends nicely with our Florida decor (sans flamingos!) but also acknowledges our gratitude for the many blessings we try not to take for granted.  Yet, this little sign prickles. It prickles because it is a constant reminder of the disparity  between my abundance and the scarcity and suffering experienced by so many of my brothers and sisters.  What did I do to deserve my advantages? Some would say good fortune and hard work. What I have come to learn is that much of my well-being is due to my white privilege. Being white gave me a head-start right out of the gate.  How do I respond to the prickle caused by that sweet little sign? I try not to look away. I wrestle with the tension. I acknowledge that racism still enslaves our people; I continue to educate mys...