Faith, Hope, and Love

Towards the end of my summer, I had the chance to visit Portland, Oregon. I started the journey in Ann Arbor, Michigan. Took the train to Chicago. And then went from Chicago to Portland over 46 hours.  But that is the story for another blog, another day. I loved Portland, and my friend Dam and I did pretty much everything we could squeeze in within the four days we had: The Zoo, The Rose Garden, The Japanese Garden, The Pink Trolley, Powell's City of Books, Saturday Market, Multnomah Falls...  Dam and I in front of the Multnomah Falls But there was one thing on my list that I didn't get to: The Beverly Cleary Sculpture Garden  + taking a walking tour around her neighborhood. I even bought a book to help make the experience complete!  I was only going to get the Ramona book, but I believe very book needs a friend. And it was ANNE... how could I resist? I almost stole the book versus paying for it, since it says it technically isn't il...

I do not like the term "African-American." Or at least, I do not like it when it is used to refer to my demographic or ethnic background. Yes, I am African. My parents are Nigerians, and I am the first in my family to be born in America. But the term African-American comes with a lot of historical and cultural connotations that I do not share or carry as part of my identity, and it feels wrong to claim something that I am not. Let me backtrack... On Thursday, I was volunteering at a conference when my friend Latasha Morrison asked me to be a part of a racial reconciliation panel. I felt woefully unprepared and under-qualified, but I sent a quick prayer up that whatever I said would be meaningful and chose to just speak from the heart. For the most part there were a lot of high-level questions I wasn't sure I could speak to. How can we (read: white people) invest time and resources into low-income and minority neighborhoods without causing gentrification? Should...