Last week I took a test on Facebook that told me I was 97 percent black. I'm absolutely o.k. with that, but I do have to wonder. I mean, my friend Teresa - who really is black? Only scored in the 55th percentile.
And there are other questions. Like, why do I miss running into Gordon and Maria down in the barrio? When I'm making notes at my desk, how come the capital letters come down from the sky of my mind and announce themselves?
THE LETTER "H."
I don't know about you, but I spent more time hanging out at Hooper's than I did with my own parents.
I think Sesame Street, in lots of ways, really shaped the way I see the world. In the 1970s, the messages were about tolerance of difference and the cast - without discussion - were a diverse group, the ink barely dry on the Civil Rights Act of 1964.
I can't help but think that watching this made my generation different from our parents'. But I can't help but think that we've failed our children when we tolerate behavior from them that drives a fellow student to suicide. And when all we've given them is suicide as a coping mechanism.
"Christians" talk about sin, but having also attended THAT school, I can tell you what I learned there - that "This man welcomes sinners and eats with them." (Luke 15:2).Your job is not to judge, but to make a welcoming place next to you at the table. There are kids out there with problems so heartbreaking that the only reasonable response you can -- and should -- make, is one of love.