Professor J's Place

An hour or so ago, a man I do not know went on a short Facebook rant about how #MeToo destroys creativity and victimizes men. Here’s my take on that: Guurl, it’s come to Jesus time. Let’s look at Al Franken, shall we? Many liberals think he was done wrong by the #MeToo movement.   He defends himself by first ignoring or dismissing some of the complaints and then arguing that the most detailed and original complaint was by a conservative plant. Okay, but why did you do it? What made you think it was okay to use your power to cross boundaries and treat someone in a way that made her feel uncomfortable? And do I want a senator who willingly abuses his power? It’s the same for Joe Biden. I don’t care if you’ve always been a toucher and a hugger. You should get consent first. I hear people say, “should he ask permission to hug people?” YES. When my pastor first came to my church, he asked me if I was a hugger. It’s what normal people do! What makes Joe Biden exempt from...

The United Methodist Church General Council is preparing to vote on LGBTQ+ inclusion into the full life of the church. This would mean ordination and marriage rights for sexual minorities. There are two votes: one that would affirm the "traditional" beliefs of the church and one that would open the church to all. The vote seems to be heading toward a denial of rights. I am not a member of the Methodist church (though some of my best friends are 😏). However, I do remember how painful it was to be a member of the Presbyterian Church USA (PCUSA) when the votes went against inclusion. It was heartbreaking. It made me wonder if I really wanted to be a Presbyterian. It may well have had something to do with my long absence from the church--though I never really put it together until now. I also remember how painful it was when PCUSA voted for inclusion. We lost people. Indeed, we lost entire churches who voted to leave the denomination. First Presbyterian San Antonio was ...

I have been furious for days.  San Antonio has been going through its own Time's Up moment in the writing community. This is not my story. For a first hand discussion of this ugly situation, I invite your to read the blog post of my friend, Courtenay Martin. A google search of Bryce Milligan's name will give you some of the traditional news coverage. The way Milligan has been treated by some of the news sources has made me furious. This is a man who preyed on 13-16 year-old girls, and the press is giving him a platform to deny it at length. Time's up. I don't want to hear it. Also, on Friday afternoon I learned of yet another school shooting. This one in Sante Fe, Texas. Eight students and two teachers were killed by a seventeen year old boy with a shotgun and a handgun. My first tweets and posts were profanity laden, I can assure you. The only positive thing I've done is donate money to some organizations who work for sane gun restrictions and to Beto O...

Today is Jan. 22, 2018. I have been sober for eight years today, and here’s my story. I first got sober on June 14, 1988. Flag day, for what it’s worth. At that time I lived in Omaha Nebraska. I went to my first meeting on a Friday night—at the gay and lesbian meeting in the cafeteria of a hospital— “Live and Let Live.”  I just looked them up, and they’re still meeting at 8:15 on Friday nights—sending love to you guys! Thank you! I became a daily AAer—sometimes more than one a day, but Live and Let Live was my home group, and there I met a group of other young lesbians who became my tribe. Men were welcome to our almost nightly coffee house meetings after the meeting, but the core group was about six women. I was “in the middle of the program” when I was younger. Daily meetings, daily phone calls, hiking together, going out to eat together. . . It was a good time.  During that time, I ended a long-term relationship and had a brief (six month) relationship. All ...

I wrote this to share with the deacons, and of course, that means you. I began with my favorite psalm, Psalm 42 I have always longed for some kind of relationship with the source, with God.  But I am inconsistent.   I believe. I don’t believe. I search for something else. I walk away. Paul Simon writes about my experience when he says “We are born and born again like waves of the sea.”   As a child, I attended Catholic church. I am old enough to remember attending Latin mass and covering my head with a veil in worship. I loved the music, I loved the scripture readings, and I loved the homilies. I’d come home and explain them to my mom (not that she needed my exegesis, but I guess that was a precursor to my later career as a teacher). I left the church in my teens. Literature, nature, and music became how I connected with God.  Some odd combination of CS Lewis and Godspell got me through my teens. I read and talked about God a lot, but I ha...

  "Learning to Walk" David Fabricius Aaby I’m learning to walk. As most people who know me know, I fell and broke my knee-cap this summer. When I was healed, and my doctor blessed me and said, “you may go,” I asked him for a referral to physical therapy.  I had recently learned that my knock knees, and the arthritis they created, could be improved through exercise. The doctor said yes, that although it would not take away any deformation, it would strengthen and stabilize my knees. I walk funny.  I’ve always thought I walk funny because my knees are deformed. Come to find out, my knees are deformed because I walk funny. So I am learning to walk. And to stand. And to strengthen muscles that are atrophied. When my therapist first watched me walk, he said I need to start out with my heels when I walk. And he stood me in front of a mirror. “You’re standing on your toes,” he said. “Put your feet down.” Those first days were rough. When you first ...

My last post on this blog was about the death of San Antonio's beloved Fr. Eddie. I learned of Eddie's death the day this photo was taken. I was one of the people being ordained and commissioned to serve my church as elders and deacons. On the far left, you can see my pastor, Kelly Allen . I have put off writing about this day, and the week that followed, for some time, but as I showered and prepared for going to church this morning, these words echoed in my head: "faith, familia, trabajo." I heard them yesterday in a speech by the man I hope is our next VP. (More about that later). Those words are embraced by people of faith everywhere, and they certainly exemplify the life of Kelly Allen. On the Friday following my ordination, Kelly suffered a major stroke. That Sunday, her family released her body from life support, and gave her organs to save other lives. It was fitting that her last act on life was to save others. Greater love has no one. I cannot exp...