It's Anniversary Day.
I was going to try and explain why I've been having a crisis of faith in Unitarian Universalism since August, 2014. But I've figured out that I can't really put it into words.
I could talk about how abandoned by institutional Unitarian Universalism we in St. Louis were at the time. But I've already done that.
I could talk about the sense of deja vu that has come over me since the NAACP issued their travel advisory for the state of Missouri and faux-woke UUs have started yapping about boycotting GA in K.C. next year. But I just wrote about that.
I probably should write about how we're quickly approaching the beginning of the 50th anniversary of the Black Empowerment Controversy and wondering if UUs are really ready to reckon with that history. But I have time to get those thoughts into intelligible form.
I can't do any of those. Because I can't help thinking about MikeMike. Thinking that he should be 21 and plotting out the rest of his life.
But I'm also thinking about Trayvon. and Tamir. and Sandra. and Rekia. and Aiyanna.
And Eric Garner. John Crawford. Jordan Edwards. Freddie Gray. Walter Scott. Eric Harris. Oscar Grant. Natasha Anderson.
and all the others. too many to name here.
Yet I'm also thinking about Julie. and Sunshine. and Krista. and Barbara. who lived through it all too.
It's Anniversary Day.
Someday...we'll all be free. But that day ain't today.
