For humanity….

Last night after working late into the night, I decided to skim through the Presidential debate to see what had been said. Let’s just say, I was appalled to see what had taken place. There was a complete lack of respect and decorum. Shouting, talking over, and lack of moderation. It was horrible to watch and listen to. As someone who has taken debate class, I can fully assure you that what happened last night was the antithesis of a debate. 

But what did I really watch? What can I glean from such a conversation? What was really going on here?

On the stage we saw two white, over 50 males along with another white male “debating”. During the “debate”, I sometimes could not hear either candidate or the moderator as people constantly talked over each other. Well, mostly one person aka President Trump would disregard any debate etiquette and talk over candidate Biden and the moderator. This felt like an edgy SNL sketch from 2012 but in this case I was watching reality. This really was the first of three presidential debates. I was left disgusted, appalled, confused, angry and horrified.

We know that this is not how presidential debates are supposed to run. We know that candidates are allowed some name calling. But last night was completely different. Because of this stark contrast, it is important for me to outline what I learned from such a showcase.

First, I learned that President Trump is not interested in debate. He is interested in disrupting and defining his own time and space. He is interested in using ad hominem to try to prove his point. Give me ONE example of Trump using real logic to talk about an issue (I’ll wait). Trump is interested in engaging in disruptive behavior that does not allow opposition to speak. When directly asked to condemn white supremacy, he is willing to declare a rally cry instead. His character was on full display and I can conclude that Trump is a self centered, power hungry, melomaniac that has no real regard for truth, justice or general human decency.

Secondly, I learned that candidate Biden is interested in speaking to the “American” people. Quite a few times during the debate, Biden broke the fourth wall to speak directly to the camera. Trying to appeal to those sorry watchers at home. He tried very hard to stay on point but was ultimately egged into joining the madness. There were many moments where Biden was flustered, at a loss for words and downright angry. He answered the moderators questions but was prone to try and speak over Trump. Biden used ad hominem as well while talking about policy. In many respects, those comments fell flat against Trump’s barrage of comments. Biden did not speak to certain policies as much as would have liked. He did not define certain key issues around immigration and climate change which I would have liked to hear more about. I can conclude that Biden is interested in appealing to the general “american” people and making sure people rally behind their dislike of Trump to vote for him. (which at this point might be just what gets him into office)

Golly, what was that “DEBATE” though!? What do I want my president of my country to say and do? How do I want the leader of my country to act on camera? How do I want my leader to act behind closed doors?

When thinking about an ideal leader, I always think about how the Bible informs my perspective. I believe that as a Christian, it is important for me to understand leadership and government from Jesus’ words. I understand there is an alternative debate about the validity of faith and scripture. I am not going to address that here since these are my personal understandings and beliefs. In the Bible, we see various examples of good and bad leadership. There are kings that do it right, there are oppressive ones that do it wrong. But when I look at the New testament, I believe that Jesus’ nature and character are the examples of good leadership. In the christian faith we announce that “Jesus is King” but what do we mean when we say this? Let us take a closer look at Jesus’ actions to understand the answer. During his life, Jesus was a teacher, radically kind to women and outsiders, speaking and addressing poor people and sick people. He spoke about how you are to “love your neighbor as yourself” and “take up the cross and follow me”.  He was humble in his teaching and willing to go the extra mile to help those in need. His words and his teachings speak of “turning the other cheek” and doing things “for the least of these”. The one case we see Jesus getting angry is when he walks into the temple (considered a holy and sacred space) to find merchants taking advantage of the easy access to the outsiders wanting to sacrifice at the temple. In general, Jesus preaches love, peace and a new reality where you do not have to be defined by your past but instead “you can live in light of the cross”. Therefore from the New Testament, I can gather that Jesus as a king would be humble, kind, generous, willing to listen, willing to defend the weak, and bring justice to the outcasts of society. 

This definition of leadership is my foundation as I try to lead others and as I look to others to lead me. I believe that a leader who showcases these attributes will help achieve a society that allows all people to thrive. 

You might be asking, well what does this have to do with POLITICS? Don’t you care about public policy?

My answer is yes. I do care about public policy but I also care about my leaders’ character. The old adage “actions speak louder than words” is completely true and is important to consider when picking a leader. Quality of character does matter when speaking about politics. In the most recent debate, I believe that the candidates’ characters were on clear display. Here we can see that our current President does not reflect any of the leadership qualities described above. Instead he seems to display many attitudes that are opposite to them. 

So how should I vote? Should I stick my nose to the ground and vote on policy only? I would argue no. There are many things to hate about Trump but something that I find personally disgusting is his complete lack of empathy and ability to showcase kindness or generosity. This lack of dignity does affect my vote. It does affect my thoughts about the party he represents. It does affect my thoughts about people who vote for him. 

I become angry when people defend the President’s actions. As though they are living in alternate reality where a leader is allowed to do anything and everything to get their agenda across. For me, it is very obvious that the current leadership is only interested in maintaining and furthering the power they hold. 

After all that has been said, after everything that I have written, I would like to say I am glad we got to see the candidates debate. That display of utter chaos feels like the perfect representation of everything happening globally. Maybe then people will see the utter madness that Trump represents. Maybe then young people will feel inspired to become better leaders. Maybe we can start addressing real issues and topics in the next debate (which I foresee as being very unlikely) But I can hope right? I can hope for the change that I want to see in the world. I can try each day to showcase my personal definition of leadership. Then generations from now, I will see the impact of the choices I made. 

Black Lives Matter. 



That Dream of Mine

My dream 

Made me think

That you loved me

Far from home

I felt part of

Your heart

In that dream of mine

You studied my face

And never hesitated

To smile at the

Ways my hair

Fell into my eyes

I felt part of 

Your love

In that dream of mine

Photo by Hush Naidoo on Unsplash

Into fall’s hands

“Marvelous darling”

Called the old witch

Sitting on her doorstep

As I ran down the street

To find more red leaves

“Into fall’s hands we rest”

She murmured as I 

Ran back to show her

Three deep maroon maple leaves

I stared at the lovely


And imagined a world

Where magic existed.

“It does”

The old lady smiled.

This piece is inspired by the Tuesday Writing Prompt Challenge over at Go Dog Go Cafe. Photo by Jakob Owens on Unsplash

Nine years old…

Mr. Midas slowly walked through his magnificent halls. The click of his heel clearly heard as an echo sounded against the high cave like ceilings. The hallway expanded with marble flooring and golden accents. Each window framed with rich wooden carvings leafed with gold. This was Midas’s palace. His treasure. At the end of the ornate hallway, Midas entered a small room. It was dark with velvet curtains covering each window pane. In the center of the room stood a statue, a figure frozen in time arms outstretched. Midas faced the figure directly. He looked into his daughter’s eyes fixed in a bright half smile. She was only nine years old and never had a chance. He recalled the fateful day when his blessing became his curse. He had reached for his daughter and turned her to solid gold. She had just learned how to say “Hello” in five different languages. Suddenly cemented in time, as a relic to her father’s greed. Midas reached out his hand to the statue. He caressed her cheek. If only he could turn back time, reconsider everything he cherished in his life. His daughter’s expression remained unchanged. He sighed. Midas turned away and walked out of the room slowly plodding down the hallway. The clicking of his heel echoed through the cavernous hall.

This piece is inspired by the Tuesday Writing Prompt Challenge over at Go Dog Go Cafe. Photo by Will Svec on Unsplash

In the stillness

Dear Panthea,

March comes in like a lion. That’s how the saying goes, at least. But this March felt like a stormy hurricane that never returned to sea. Do you know why? You must have a guess. Because you left in March, Panthea. As you left, my heart did leave with you. For when will you return? My mother tells me that you plan to stay three months in London. Is this true? Will letters suffice as a replacement for what my heart feels only seeing you will satisfy? Panthea, all those questions I have for you. As I ask each one, I begin to bring fresh sadness to my chest. For Panthea, I did not mean for us to be separated like this. So far away, where you live now. Remember when we used to walk along the lake and talk of the sunset? I loved those moments; by the lake, in the grass, laying on our backs, our hearts and our eyes turned toward the sun. Panthea it was there, by the lake, that I realized that you are truly an undiscovered treasure. Everything, eyes, nose, heart, lips, mind. Everything is lovely. Panthea, when I whispered your name into your hair, it was as if I had said “I love you”. For this time and space has made me realize I do in fact love you. Dearest Panthea, winner of my heart, please do not hear urgency in my words. Hear only the softest, gentle plea as I humble myself to your great magnanimous heart. I love you, Panthea. I know this now truer than any moment. In the stillness, I realized you are the missing movement of my heart beat. In the quiet, I long for your head against my shoulder. Panthea, this time, this distance, it hurts me greatly for I wish to be joined again. I wish to be catching your hand in mine as we walk around the lake.

Dearest Panthea, Will you not come back?

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash


“Times Up”

The two words I didn’t want to hear. My breath jagged and I wondered how long I had stood with my hands raised above my head. I glanced down at his shoes. People always showed their personality in their shoes. Dark, black Doc. Martens. A posh type, I concluded.

“Hey” the intruder said, leaning closer to me. Shifting his weight in those Doc. Martens. “I said time’s up”

The “p” sound fell from his lips with an extra gravitas. My hands still raised. My eyes were still staring at those ugly boots. (I had decided that those boots were quite ugly. I mean, who would wear such a boring shoe to a jewelry store robbery? Shouldn’t there be pizazz, flash and glamour?) I had heard the clicking of the pistol. My heart quickened. Time was up, what more could I do?

The intruder shifted his weight again. This time closer to me. I looked up and suddenly asked. “What’s with those shoes, anyways?” The question blurted from my mouth more out of shock and desperation than anything intentional or planned.

“Hunh?” The intruder looked down, dropping his arms slightly.

I swung my hands down, hard. They connected with the gripped pistol. As my flesh contacted bones, I felt a sharp pain running up my forearms. I heard the loudest crack sound that I had ever heard. It was like the breaking of a walnut shell, but 10 times louder. The intruder screamed and stumbled back. I looked down to see my hands covered in blood. My blood. It started to hurt now. I was on my knees. I gasped for breath. It felt as though I was underwater. Then, I was laying on my belly with my head against the floor. Now, I had sunk. All I could see were those damn ugly boots. I tried to breathe. Water filled my lungs. Then I heard the faint sounds of sirens. The boots turned and started to run. The sirens seemed to fade as I closed my eyes and thought “I’ll never wear Doc. Martens ever again.”

Photo by Jeremy Yap on Unsplash