Leslye's Labyrinth

Many thanks to Tadeau and Carole Ott Coelho of  Anima Vox for using my words from Am I Next in your first Cafezinho performance honoring Black Lives Matter. To view the full mini concert recorded on June 22, 2020, fast forward to 5:00.

The liturgical calendar of my Catholic tradition accompanies us through our lives in the ordinary times as well as in periods and on days of significance. During the solemn and holy days of Lent and the Triduum, respectively, we reenact the via dolorosa in the Stations of the Cross. Regardless of its size, the sanctuary of each Catholic parish will include a representation of the fourteen Stations. The prayerful process reflects on the sorrow and suffering of Jesus from his condemnation to death his death by capital punishment and burial in a tomb. His subsequent resurrection is celebrated on Easter Sunday.  While the Church's calendar reflects the highs and lows of ordinary life, our lived experience is not confined to this timeline. Experiences of suffering, death, and resurrection occur for each of us at varying times. The calendar may say that it is ordinary time, but as we accompany a loved one through the challenges of a terminal illness it is a period of sorrow.  With ...

The soil of Turtle Island is forever drenched with the innocent blood  of its first inhabitants - men, women and children  who had their humanity denied. In right relationship  with the Creator and creation, the First Nations were considered obstacles  to your insatiable greed. The God you trusted to bring you safely across the Atlantic was too small for this new life. Putting aside  loving  your neighbor as yourself, you chose to worship at the tarnished altar of the golden calf. A bounty of unfamiliar  natural resources  were no more than  tools  for personal wealth as you coveted ownership instead of stewardship. Walking this land  from time immemorial, you found their presence to warrant a litany of broken promises, infected blankets, and genocide. In spite of you, some survived only  to be denied access  to their ancestral lands before being forced to walk the Trail of Tears - their own via dolorosa. We hear echoes of...

The recent extra-judicial killing of George Floyd and others is causing many Americans to question the various forms of racial bias in our society. While those from the First Nations and of African descent along with other people of color have lived experience of this violence and its embodied trauma. Seeing Floyd murdered from the comfort of their homes seems to have pushed many who identify as white to cross the threshold. For them, denying the existence of racial injustice in 2020 is no longer an option. As perspectives are broadened, questions arise.  It as though a bright light bulb has been switched on in a dank cellar providing a stark view in direct conflict with the ideals the nation espouses. What is seen is the oppressive legacy of 400 years of white supremacy and its perpetuation in real time.   The arts are one way in which "heroes" are created and celebrated to shape the stories we know.  The removal of statues and other artwork honoring men who contrib...

I was one of more than 500 students to graduate from my hometown's public high school in 1976.  There was a great energy in the air as our graduation year was the same as which our nation celebrated its bicentennial.  A few years earlier, the historically Black high school named after George Washington Carver had been changed to a junior high school, and all high school students attended Dothan High School, or the town's segregation academy.  In our short lifetimes we had been shaped by the racial trauma of being born into and living in the apartheid of both Alabama and the United States. What was known as the Civil Rights Movement began in the late 1940s and continued until 1968 with significant accomplishments, but incomplete. Would we, the youth of the 1960s and in particular the Class of 1976, grow to deny racism by accepting it, or would we recognize the injustice and challenge it? Four years before our birth, the United States Supreme Court ruled on the case of...

Upon hearing of a program being offered at the local cathedral that addressed poverty and the Church's social justice teachings, I knew it was for me. Through JustFaith, I was provided insight to the heart of the Gospel of Christ as taught by the Catholic Church. Having entered this church as a young child in an apartheid state, I had already gained a deep appreciation of Moses and the Exodus from the Black Protestant Church. I also recognized the strong similarities between the enslavement and subsequent struggles of the Hebrew people, and those of us as African-Americans. The connection and assurance of God's presence in the midst of ineffable suffering was as certain as the sun rising in the east and setting in the west.  My family entered the Catholic Church amidst the racial segregation of the mid-1960s. While the priests and parishioners welcomed us, I know our lived experience was not shared by all African-Americans, not even for those who identify as cradle Cathol...

My heart feels so heavy. This would have been my father's eighty-ninth birthday had not his journey here ended almost nine years ago. Yet, this is not the reason for tonight's  grief.  The air is heavy with three months of protective actions to prevent the spread of Covid-19. The pandemic is never far from our thoughts especially when we realize the degree to which our routines have been altered. In so many ways, it is similar to the racism that is not novel but intricately woven into the fabric of our nation.  The senseless murders of young African-Americans is taking a toll on our well-being or at least for those of us who recognize the overtly racist patterns of the past repeating themselves once more. Exposing the myth for a lie, the murders are not confined to the deep south as white supremacy was never confined to the traitorous states that betrayed their national allegiance by seceding. It was given the freedom denied to my ancestors to cross state boundaries ...