I confess that I was somewhat of an oddity as a child. There are some who might argue that I’ve retained this quality into my adulthood. When I was about eight years old, my family was part of Brethren church plant in Grand Rapids. Actually, my father is the one who initiated the plant and…
Tag: Latino
Smoke-Stained Sky
Walking the streets of Bethlehem during the protest was not a fearful event for me. I perhaps never felt safer, even at the sound of tear gas shot into the air and watching the smoke in the distance.
Homenaje
I knew something was wrong. My sister’s voice was dry on the other end of my hello. “Abuela… is dead.” I… paused to take in those words. My abuela, who had been at home in bed for months, had recently taken a turn for the worse. Death was something we knew that was coming, but not the something I prepared to receive. And to hear she was gone… Who knew one sentence, with so few words, could destroy so much?
Called to Rejection
They called me “100% gringo.” If I had been white enough to blush, my anger and frustration would have instantly been revealed. However, my skin wasn’t white. They didn’t see my anger, frustration and shame. Back in the United States, calling a Latino a gringo was either a bad joke or an insult good enough…
Get Lost
Roberto and I have been developing a friendship. Since I have arrived in León, Nicaragua, we’ve been working together doing urban ministry trainings in different locations throughout the city. Our mode of travel is Roberto’s motorbike. He drives and I hop on the back of that two wheeler and we make it work. Nicaragua is…
