RAISED UP WHITE IN ALABAMA

Editor’s Note: This is the fourth installment in a series of interviews I’m conducting with people across the country. This is an effort to get to know the stories of the people whose status updates I see on Facebook.  It is the discovery of how people came to form their political beliefs, what worries they might have and what gives them hope. These are #PeopleoftheResistance. If you have a story to share, shoot me a note

 

 

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Atlanta, Georgia – Jennie Miller Helderman came from a broken home. “My mother went to Auburn and my father went to Alabama,” she explained. “In the football culture of the South that amounts to a broken home.”

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What’s Left of Right?

Karen’s Note: The following is a post from a veteran-turned-pastor friend. Many of you regular readers are already familiar with Roger.  Please feel free to share your thoughts with him. I know he’d like to engage with you on these matters. Roger lives and serves in Portland.

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On the Good News of Jesus from Matthew 5:21-37, Deut. 30:15-20,  Psalm 119:1-8,  1 Cor. 3:1-9

–by Pastor Roger Fuchs

 

Author’s note:  The terms “left” and “right” in this piece should not be taken as synonyms for liberal and conservative terms of politics.  Understand them as they are developed in the text.  As we are biased to right-handedness, so we are biased to believe in the rightness of our own ideas, sometimes to great harm.  My friend Karen has a term for this, the religion of “certainosity”.  There is a bit of it about these days… 

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I AM NOT BLESSED

Crossville. 2011 106It’s the time now when I have finished one book and about to get started on another. It’s time for resetting. A time where I prepare for book tour. This last book in the Appalachian series will include a talk/presentation for ancestry buffs, so I’m working on that.

But it also the time I set aside for reading, replenishing, thinking, filling myself up.

I get out of the house more. I’ll be meeting with Sarah TheBarge in Portland next week for a girlfriend get-together. I am very excited about her upcoming book WELL, about her work in Togo. I’ll let you know when it’s out.

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Inside Trump’s Bubble

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The cashier helping me was Hispanic. I was in a national chain department store, picking up a couple of things for the grandboys. It should have been an easy, carefree moment. Routine, even.

The tall man standing behind me was dressed in military fatigues, a pretty unusual site in this area of Washington State where there are no military bases, no National Guard Armory. It made me wonder for a moment if perhaps he wasn’t one of those “fakers”, you know men who dress in military gear hoping for a discount, even though they’ve never served.  It happens. Why else would a man be out shopping in the kids department of a chain store on the middle of the day in a town known more for its retirement community than its military presence? Seemed unusual to me.

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The Things Refugees Leave Behind

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It was the last night he would be one, this grandson of mine, so I cradled him extra close as I rocked and whispered, “Whose birthday is it tomorrow?”

He popped the ba out of his mouth and smiled, “Mimi’s.” Then he flashed me one of his toothy grins. Sawyer Bean is a tease.

“Noooo,” I said, shaking my head. “Not Mimi’s. Whose?”

“Sawyours” he said, popping the ba back in.

We read a book, an old familiar one. One that I read to my own children, many moons ago, back when Carter was president, while pushing back and forth in that very same rocker. You know the book, too, I’m sure: “I think I can. I think I can. I think I can … I thought I could, I thought I could, I thought I could.”

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