Resmaa Menakem, in his talk with Krista Tippett on her podcast On Being, said the tears of a white woman have a certain kind of power.

We talked about my father. She wasn’t exactly sure of his ethnicity or race.

I read a plea recently on Twitter by an adoptee asking adoptive parents to say something positive about their (adopted) children.

I stayed up late last night, waiting to see if anything was happening with the protests.

There is a part of the brain that deals with something called executive function.

What can you do as a white parent?

In school I tried writing like a boy in my grade who was smart, and always kept his desk neat and tidy.

I believe I have to be willing to give up all that I have in order for the social order to change.

Seedlings are like whispered prayers.

So how do you pull a baby plant from the earth? How do you say not you?

This is a guest blog post by Katy Schultz whom I adore as a human being and as a writer.

In my book You Don’t Look Adopted, I made my mother the other as a way, in part, to deal with things about myself I did not know how to accept and/or embrace.

I have the sense that feeling like a bottomless pit, for me, has come from a core decision that I said NO to life when I was born and separated from my mother: not this life, not you, not them, not it, not me.