Love More, Judge Less
A little over three years ago I started talking to this guy. I had written a post on my Facebook page about a trip to the fair, and somehow it was decided between him and I that he would send it to his friend who wrote for a blog called CT Working Moms. He sent
Last month I launched a local initiative, a community-based GSA open to rainbow kids and their peer allies. It started small, but word is spreading, and folks, listen up. The kids who are attending? They want this. They NEED this. https://ctworkingmoms.com/2018/09/12/rock-the-rainbow/ The reason I’m writing about this again is twofold. It’s one thing to post
For some of us, it also means connecting with our schools to ensure that school staff has been trained to support our LGBTQIA+ kids and crossing our fingers that our kids have a year free of bullying, discrimination, and heartbreak.
We’ve all heard the African adage “It takes a village to raise a child.” It has taken an unfortunate turn of events to remind me that I need to thank the people in my children’s village and tell them how much they mean to us.
Love doesn’t divide. It doesn’t punish, or subjugate, or convert. To love is to honor our differences and respect our growth.
I like the world around me in general, and the community I live in is just fine — very good, even. But I am not the type to seek out activities to do or places to be. I just let them happen, when I’m not actively resisting them. Connecticut is chock full of New Englandy
Each Thanksgiving, I take inventory of the things I am grateful for. While I am never more or less appreciative, one year to the next, there are times where events like births or deaths act as glowing reminders of all that we are blessed with (and, more soberingly, how quickly those things may be lost). This
We are at a critical point. We have a chance to step forward, to become a more accepting, loving, supportive, unified society. But change is scary, difference is scary, religious books are open to interpretation, especially by megalomaniacs who profit off the fear and division they can sow in others, and politicians like to sound like they know what they’re talking about. It’s a messy, loud, sometimes chaotic sort of progress, and one that puts a vulnerable community in the crosshairs.
Something very special happened today. I went to my girls’ school to drop off paperwork for my older daughter, and I saw my younger daughter on the playground. She waved excitedly at me, and then turned around and went back to playing with her friends. And I wanted to cry with joy. For some background,
The summer of 1984 was a significant turning point in my life. “We’ll be moving to a new state.”I can remember sitting at our small kitchen table, confused and a little surprised. It was a pleasant evening. I think we were sitting around the kitchen table together, which was not a usual occurrence. “What about
