The Books They Don’t Want Our Children to Read
Growing up, I didn’t have books that helped me understand who I was. People rarely talked openly about being gay,
Read moreReligion is a frequent topic on this blog, and should not be confused with Christianity.
Growing up, I didn’t have books that helped me understand who I was. People rarely talked openly about being gay,
Read moreKen Gay’s latest supporter graphic features Republican state representatives Danny Alvarez, Traci Koster and Michael Owen. Once you look at their education records, the endorsements require very little explanation. Alvarez and Koster backed Florida’s expansion of private-school scholarships and HB 1069, with its restrictions on sexual-orientation and gender-identity instruction and pronoun use. Owen has supported similar school-choice policies and legislation expanding religious expression in public schools.
The consequences of those LGBTQ-related policies are harder to shrug off as another Tallahassee culture-war hobby. Trevor Project research found that LGBTQ+ students attending schools with even one anti-LGBTQ+ policy reported higher rates of anxiety, depression and suicide attempts. Its 2023 research also found lower suicide-attempt rates among students with affirming school supports, including teachers who respected transgender and nonbinary students’ pronouns. Apparently, treating children with dignity has measurable benefits. Who knew?
So “birds of a feather” seems an apt description of the policy overlap. The same group supporting Gay has repeatedly backed moving education dollars toward private alternatives while supporting restrictions that fall particularly hard on LGBTQ+ students. The question behind the endorsements is worth examining: what does that agenda mean inside a public-school system charged with educating every child who walks through its doors?
Read moreKen Gay brings nearly four decades of experience in Hillsborough County public schools to the District 6 School Board race. His long career gives voters plenty to respect. But a detailed candidate questionnaire offers a much fuller picture of the political and social views he would bring to the Board.
Gay identifies himself as a conservative Republican and has taken clear positions on school choice, transgender students, sex education, books, guns in schools, religion and the federal role in education. These are not assumptions about his politics. They come from answers Gay submitted himself.
His campaign finances add another layer. The campaign is largely self-funded, while a recently formed company called Faith in Policy has received a substantial share of Gay’s campaign spending. I took a closer look at Gay’s record, his own words and where his campaign money is coming from.
Read moreA single mother stops at a traffic light and hands five dollars to a homeless person. Jeff Bezos pledges $10 billion to fight climate change. Bezos will accomplish far more with his gift. Yet the mother may have given up something she needed.
That distinction sits at the heart of my latest essay. The world’s richest people possess more money than they could spend across several lifetimes. Their fortunes keep growing while the planet warms, public institutions weaken, and millions struggle to survive. Their philanthropy does useful work, though it rarely costs them any comfort or power.
So what is all the remaining money for? The answer takes us through the Gilded Age, the widow’s offering, other religious traditions, private bunkers, life extension, and the strange belief that enough wealth can free someone from the fate shared by every human being.
Read moreEssay 3 of a series examining where we are at 250 years
That question is easy to ask but far more difficult to answer. It is tempting to surrender to cynicism, retreat into anger, or simply conclude that one person’s voice no longer matters. Yet history tells a different story. Every major step toward a more just America began because ordinary people refused to believe that tomorrow had to look exactly like yesterday.
This concluding essay in my 250th Fourth of July trilogy is not about despair. It is about responsibility. It is a personal reflection on the kind of citizen I have decided to be, regardless of the political climate, and an invitation for each of us to consider the role we will play in writing America’s next chapter. Because history will move forward. The only question is whether we will help hold the pen.
Read morePolitics can make otherwise reasonable people turn strange. It can harden conversations, flatten human beings into talking points, and tempt us into anger, contempt, or despair. But avoiding public life entirely is also a moral choice. If government is, as Barney Frank once said, “the things we choose to do together,” then citizenship is one of the places where our values become visible.
This essay reflects on a recent Citizen Engagement training at Hyde Park United Methodist, the beginning of the Faith250 series, and Emma Lazarus’s “The New Colossus” as a way into a larger question: what does a Stoic owe to public life? The answer is not withdrawal. It is disciplined participation, rooted in justice, guided by wisdom, restrained by temperance, and sustained by courage.
The Stoic citizen does not control the whole outcome. But we can still show up with clarity. We can still speak truth without surrendering to hatred. We can still widen the circle, lift a lamp, and choose together as wisely and justly as we can.
Read moreMost people deal with uncertainty in one of two ways. They either worry endlessly about everything that might go wrong… or they assume nothing will. Neither approach prepares us very well for real life.
The Stoics practiced something different. They called it premeditatio malorum — the premeditation of difficulties. Instead of imagining every possible disaster, they briefly considered the challenges that might realistically arise and thought about how they would respond.
This simple mental exercise doesn’t increase anxiety. It reduces it. By removing surprise, it helps us meet life’s difficulties with steadiness rather than panic.
Read moreWe live in a world that is very good at convincing us that more is always better. More food, more comfort, more information, more outrage, more things. Our phones are built to keep our attention just a little longer. Our culture treats abundance as harmless and excess as normal. But when everything is available all the time, the real question is no longer what we can have. It is what we should choose to take in, and what it is quietly costing us.
Temperance offers an unfashionable answer. Not denial. Not purity. Enough. It asks us to notice our appetites, not just for food, but for attention, certainty, comfort, and stimulation. It invites us to consider whether what we consume is actually nourishing us, or simply keeping us busy and restless. In an age engineered to keep us reaching, choosing enough becomes a quiet act of freedom, one that clears space for presence, joy, and a life that feels more truly our own.
Read moreWhat if voting, showing up at a council meeting, or speaking up for a neighbor weren’t just civic responsibilities, but acts of faith? Many of us treat spirituality as a private matter, safely contained within the walls of a sanctuary. But across religious traditions, the message is consistent: faith that never enters the public square is incomplete.
From John Wesley’s insistence on social holiness, to the prophets’ demand for justice, to Eastern teachings on interconnectedness, belief is proven through action. Civic life is where compassion becomes concrete, and values are tested. Read the full essay to explore why civic engagement may be the most honest expression of faith we have right now.
Read moreWhere will someone sleep in your city tonight? Civic duty rarely announces itself. It does not arrive as a moment of clarity or a flood of inspiration. More often, it looks like routine. Mats laid out across a facility space. Meals delivered and set out. Volunteers arriving in shifts through the night so others can sleep indoors when the temperature drops.
We talk about civic duty as an idea, but it is better understood as a practice. It begins when concern becomes action. Not because the work feels noble, but because shared life demands it. When a community faces need, and some people have the capacity to respond, responsibility follows. Not as heroism. As participation.
This essay reflects on civic duty as lived responsibility. Drawing on Stoic philosophy, Wesleyan theology, and a wider moral consensus across traditions, it asks what it really means to show up for others when the work is repetitive, incomplete, and often unseen.
Read moreJustice is one of the most frequently used moral words in public life, and one of the least examined. It appears in politics, religion, social movements, and law. Because it is so familiar, we often assume we mean the same thing when we use it. We usually do not.
Serious moral traditions have resisted reducing justice to feeling or slogan. Stoic philosophy, Christian ethics, and modern research all return to a similar conclusion: Justice is not primarily about emotion or ideology. It is about responsibility. Responsibility to others, to the common good, and to living in a way that keeps belief and behavior aligned.
Seen this way, justice is not a moment or a performance. It is discipline. A steady practice carried out over time. It asks for clarity without cruelty, conviction without self-righteousness, and persistence without spectacle. Justice endures not because it is loud, but because it is rooted.
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