A theme for this semester has emerged: THE STORY. And, I didn’t even see it sneaking up on me.

Stories paint a picture of why social justice is important. Stories can bring about emotional and behavioral changes. Stories give weight to social justice issues. Stories connect us to one another. Stories elicit compassion. Stories bring clarity.

Dr. Aguilar told me a story about having to defy the system to succeed and the cost of his success.

Vik Muniz told me a story about pickers of recyclable materials.

Our stories really do tell a bigger story. So, please. Tell me a story.

One week of class remains. Unbelievable. The end is so close I can taste it.
We are wrapping up our social justice class with project presentations. For many of my other classes, this sort of thing can be somewhat boring and tend to drag on. Not so in social justice. I am incredibly proud of my cohort on this one. The projects are bringing this class full circle. People are actually standing up for social justice. We aren’t just reading and writing about it anymore. We are doing it.

During the After Work Activism group presentation, I was reminded of the beginning of the semester when I first started reading A People’s History of the United States by Howard Zinn. I wrote this quote from the book in my notes on January 25: “Behind every fact presented to the world is a judgment. The judgment that has been made is that this fact is important, and other facts, omitted, are not important.” Now, my classmates are working to educate others on what gets put in textbooks, and who has a say in those decisions. Again, full circle. Maybe it is true what those crazy Longhorns say. . . ‘what starts here changes the world.’

Mike Ross and I got all gussied up for a night out last weekend.  Some friends of ours were getting married on a beautiful piece of Texas land, and boy, were we excited.  One of the things I love about weddings is meeting new people.  We sat at a table full of strangers during the reception and left with eight new friends.  Awesomeness.  I cried, I laughed, I loved. . . That’s the other thing I love about weddings.  Love.  It was everywhere this night.  The couple’s devotion to one another came through beautifully in their touching vows.  They captured the very essence of each other in their words of adoration and promises for the future.  It was one of the best weddings ever.

Here is a snapshot Mike Ross took during the ceremony.

Did I mention that my friends are lesbians?  Yep.  Look.  I know that some of you readers just had a mini heart attack.  I know that some of you have strong feelings about homosexuality.  I also know that you have probably already forgotten how warm and fuzzy the beginning of this blog made you feel.  Homosexuality doesn’t always make everyone feel warm and fuzzy.  It messes with your theology, doesn’t it?

Here’s the thing.  I am not looking for a debate.  I am looking for grace.  I am looking for love.

The parents of these women grew up in a generation where homosexuality brought enormous amounts of disgrace on a family and was utterly unacceptable, yet they walked their daughters down the aisle beaming with pride and radiating grace.  I could not hold back the tears.  Tears of utter joy for them all.  The mommas.  The daddy.  My friends.  The son of one of these women gave a toast that brought more tears of joy.  He talked about the hole in his life that has been filled by his mom’s partner.  They are a family.  A family of love and grace.

God is love.  God is full of grace.  Right?

“Reasonable people adapt themselves to the world. Unreasonable people attempt to adapt the world to themselves. All progress, therefore, depends on unreasonable people.”  -George Bernard Shaw

Well.  It was inevitable.  Kony 2012 came up in class.  Maybe you are sick of hearing about it.  Maybe the back and forth between supporters and detractors has fascinated and/or frustrated you.   Maybe you have declined entrance into the conversation.  Maybe you jumped right into the conversation.  No matter where you stand, Kony 2012 will not be ignored.  Believe me, I tried.  In the interest of honesty and self-disclosure, I saw the early tweets and facebook posts start rolling, and I was annoyed.  I had read about Kony long before the social media frenzy, and in a moment of self-righteousness refused to watch the video.  I had never heard of Invisible Children, so it wasn’t about the organization responsible for the video.  It is just that the whole thing touched a nerve.  I have wrestled and wrestled with wanting to have the right answers.  I have been reticent on many occasions to express my thoughts on certain issues that I feel strongly about, because I am not confident that my grasp of the circumstances surrounding the issues is up to par.  I worry that my opinion is not valuable because I do not know every stinking thing there is to know.  So watching a media frenzy that invited so many people into a conversation in which they lacked true education on the issue they were ranting about ticked me off.  It is quite possible I mentioned this in class.  (It is also quite possible that my classmates wish to gag me.)  After some encouraging words from my professor, I have come to some conclusions.  Maybe I do know enough about the issues I am passionate about to enter the discourse.  Maybe my self-awareness is exactly the posture needed to do so.  Maybe my belief that if someone is going to enter a conversation about an issue, that someone must be willing to continue to learn is spot on.  In the end, the goal is not necessarily to choose a side, but to be able to see both sides.  I think there is something to be said for having the capacity for ‘both/and’ thinking rather than ‘either/or’ thinking.  Life is full of paradoxes, people.  And, we’re just gonna have to roll with it.