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During Class Today...

We were interrupted from our important work of finding queer readings of biblical texts by the cries of, "Back up! Back up! Back up! Back up--you're on my foooooooot!!!!"

The windows of the classroom were open to Ridge Rd. and Euclid Ave, and a young woman whose foot had just been run over.

During break, it was clear from the two police motorcycles, the firetruck, and the ambulance, that she was in good hands. Still, it was amazing to be inside of a room of potential ministers (myself included) who were all paralyzed by the prospect of another human in pain.

Walking home tonight I witnessed a confrontation between a young Black man, and an older White man pushing a shopping cart with a big American flag on the front. Do I minister, try to mediate? Do I save my safety and integrity for other conflicts? To what extent am I owned by my position as the child of the White middle class?

Also, I'm writing final papers. If anyone has thoughts on Andy Goldsworthy or The Song of Songs/Song of Solomon (or You Have Ravished My Heart, by Stephen Chatman)I would love to hear them. I promise to attribute any thoughts and insights.

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