We cannot solve our problems with the same thinking we used when we created them.
–Albert Einstein
Humans. We’re reactive by nature. Give me a puppy, a sweet potato pie, a lump of gold, or a month-long vacation in France, and I’ll give you a positive reaction every time. A boa constrictor, lima beans, a lump of coal in my Christmas stocking, or a fresh parking ticket will produce a reaction somewhere along the negative end of the emotional spectrum.
How does God’s love abide in anyone who has the world’s goods and sees a brother or sister in need and yet refuses help?
No, that’s not a plank in some Liberal “snowflake” platform, nor is it a principle from a Communist manifesto. That question comes from Scripture, 1 John 3:16–17 (NRSV), to be exact.
If you think that not using labels when referring to “other” people is all it takes to make you post-racial, pull up a chair. It’s time we had a little chat.
I’ll keep this short.
Roseanne Barr. What hasn’t been said about her? How about this? She’s thoughtful, well-grounded, humble, and socially aware. Or perhaps, she has an unparalleled sense of nuance in areas of race, equality, and social justice. No? What about this then? She’s a pioneer at finding new frontiers that unite all Americans.
A few days ago a rather unfortunate scene played out on Twitter over what appears to have began as a misunderstanding rooted in cultural differences and semantics. But it goes to show that words, cultural biases and differences, and intentions matter more than we think. I was mentioned in the original Shonda Rhimes thread on Saturday and have watched the flurry of tweets fly in. I’d like to share a little insight that might unravel this situation. This isn’t “man-splaining” or anything of the sort. I’m just a guy who likes seeing people get along.
THE NEWS OF PRINCESS Diana’s death hit me like a brick in the face.
I know exactly where I was when I heard the news. I was up watching late night TV in my tiny Studio City apartment when the news anchor read the announcement that Princess Diana had been killed in a Paris car crash. I found it ironic that the most photographed woman in history, who shared the same name as the Roman goddess of the hunt, was herself hunted.
A popular question going around lately is: how do I get my cis-het white male friend to acknowledge that racial inequities exist and that it’s wrong?
In order for anyone to begin to understand the unbridled interpersonal and institutional racism that People of Color face on a daily basis, they have to have already embraced two prerequisites —
We all have backstories; adventures and foibles few would believe the people we are now would ever be a party to. So in the interest of mixing it up a little, this week I’m unpacking the story about almost committing professional suicide on-stage. During a show. Enjoy!
We all have backstories; adventures and foibles few would believe the people we are now would ever be a party to. So in the interest of mixing it up a little, this week I’m unpacking the story behind becoming Donald (Duck, that is) and traveling to Guatemala as one of three caballeros. Enjoy!
Five months after my Christmas debut in the Magic Kingdom as Donald Duck, I returned to Character Department for a summer gig performing in the Main Street Electrical Parade. The adventure proved to be so much more than I bargained for … in the best way imaginable. The people I worked with were the best, despite my disdain for the job itself. I put college on a temporary hold and expressed an interest to character management in joining their ranks a full-time permanent employee … as did several other several other hopefuls lucky enough to continue working past the summer.
Recently, the Medium publication C(G) SNAPSHOTS issued a challenge in which participants were invited to submit images for their Snapshot Selfie Challenge. Being the camera-phobe that I am — no, really; until recently your truly used the same avatar across all social media for almost six years (don’t judge) — I opted to submit a snapshot of a few mementos that signified different periods of my life. Oddly enough, one object in my snapshot that garnered a few comments was a vintage Donald Duck bobblehead from the late 1960s or early 1970s, described in the accompanying text as: symbol of my former alter-ego, vehicle of torture, and self-discovery — let’s talk about that some time.
Well … the time has come.
We all have backstories; adventures and foibles few would believe the people we are now would ever be a party to. So in the interest of mixing it up a little and unpacking one such story here. Enjoy!*
