NashvilleBen

Join redpepper for the Huedown tomorrow. (It’s like a...

Mon, 18 Mar 2013 17:07:33 -0500

Join redpepper for the Huedown tomorrow. (It’s like a color flash party!!)

Meet us at the corner of 28th Avenue North and Poston Avenue by 5:15pm on 3/19 for the event. We provide the color, you just wear white. See you there!

"It doesn’t matter if the group is a church or a gang or a sewing circle or masculinity itself,..."

Wed, 02 Jan 2013 22:10:15 -0600

“It doesn’t matter if the group is a church or a gang or a sewing circle or masculinity itself, asking members to dislike, disown, or distance themselves from another group of people as a condition of ‘belonging’ is always about control and power. I think we have to question the intentions of any group that insists on disdain toward other people as a membership requirement. It may be disguised as belonging, but real belonging doesn’t necessitate disdain.”

- Brene Brown in “Daring Greatly”

Keep Out.

Mon, 17 Dec 2012 18:27:00 -0600

I’ve heard so many people talking about bad things happening because we don’t let God into our communities. I wonder how powerful they must believe themselves to be if they think they can keep God out of anywhere, except for their own hearts. Too, I wonder if Christians really ever stop to think: maybe we should have invited more people in, rather than leaving so many people out. What if we stopped judging the people that we saw as different from ourselves and started building relationships with them. What if we stopped building walls and started building doors. What if we stopped standing up for only ourselves, and stood up for our neighbors. What if we helped the ill, the orphan, and even the non-believer. I think if we did, we’d find less time for blame, and more time to spend with our healer.

"To love someone is not first of all to do things for them, but to reveal to them their beauty and..."

Sun, 09 Dec 2012 22:30:00 -0600

“To love someone is not first of all to do things for them, but to reveal to them their beauty and value, to say to them through our attitude: ‘You are beautiful. You are important. I trust you. You can trust yourself.’ We all know well that we can do things for others and in the process crush them, making them feel that they are incapable of doing things by themselves. To love someone is to reveal to them their capacities for life, the light that is shining in them.”

- Jean Vanier, founder of the L’Arche communities

For My Granny, Whose Eyes Aren't Strong Enough to See This

Wed, 21 Nov 2012 13:44:52 -0600

She sits at the end of the couch, partly draped over the arm of the maroon plaid upholstery, staring out the window. Every now and then getting up to physically move the blinds and ask who those people are standing outside. Gently we let her know that it’s her neighbors’ families that have come to visit for the holidays. We wonder if she’s longingly thinking about her own mom and all her sisters, picturing what it’d be like to have them arrive at her own doorstep this year. Or maybe she’s just daydreaming about what she wants to do in the next year. We know neither is true, but it doesn’t stop us from wishing. The opening of her apartment front door doesn’t even phase her. She must be caught in a stratosphere of thought, no break in her gaze from the window. Her concentration is gathered on something beyond this world, perhaps on what’s to come, we do not know. The doctor, who has just arrived, walks up to her, sits down next to her quietly and rests his hand on her arm. The touch, it changes everything. She looks up and in a manner neither cold nor warm, she says, “Well, hello.” She has returned to us from the window, and this time she’s ready to talk.

No matter how much we’d love for her to begin rattling off stories of her childhood, or how it was dating my grandfather, or maybe even what it was like being a strong businesswoman years before it was okay, we all know these stories weren’t meant for today. It makes me wish I had asked a little sooner. It makes me wish that I had known her then - beyond how a child knows his grandmother. It makes me wish I could go back in time. To the time when she was mean, and we got mad, and we had no idea it was because her dementia was setting in. The beginning of an Alzheimer’s avalanche, the snowball at the top of the mountain just starting downhill. But I can’t go back, none of us can. And now we are here.

Here, sitting with my grandmother, thanking God she still knows who I am. But those stories I wish I knew are now locked up in the tomb of her mind. All I have now is my grandmother, the very essence of someone she’s never been. But I have her, and though she is quiet now, she is my grandmother. I love her as much as I have ever loved anyone. Each day, and especially this one, none of us can hold back the tears when we think about how cruel life has been. Maybe as much to my grandfather as to anyone else. At times it makes us want to grab our fists and thrust them in the wall’s direction, crying out, “God, can you hear us now?” But that won’t do any good. Not today. Today, it’s about being thankful. Gratitude? How can anyone find any good in this place, I begin to ask myself. The feeling that life has been sucked right out of me. My 27 years begin to feel like 77, the fragility of life seems so tangible in such a moment as this.

Today I try to remember everything that we’ve been through together. But what if one of us can’t remember. What if we’d rather look ahead than back at where we’ve been — and yet the future seems so grim. This is supposedly a season to celebrate each other, but what do my words of thanksgiving really mean to her now. She can hear them, but does she really know what they mean? She smiles, and as I ask, there is no reaction, her face only mimicking the look on my own. She hears sounds, but can make no sense of what they mean. And my heart breaks, a physical pain throughout my body. Does it break because I feel bad for her and my grandfather, or does it break because I know I’m probably looking at myself 50 years from now? It breaks from the gravity of life, I can feel the weight pushing me to the ground.

What if today, I can’t be thankful.

When everyone is passing bread and the conversation stops at me. Will they see the tears in my eyes, when I say, “I’m thankful for Granny.” Will they see into my heart and know that really, I’m not thankful. I’m maddeningly pissed that life must end this way, seemingly floating into the abyss. I hope that they can tell. I hope that they look over at my grandmother and see how wonderful she is. I hope they can look at her and see all that she’s been. I hope we all can breathe in this one moment and nothing else. That we might be thankful to have each other right here, right now. That we can stop saying how we’re excited for all the things ahead, and be completely satisfied in this moment. This moment when we have each other, and if it all ended right now, we’d be okay. I hope we can all sit on the couch together, and as my grandmother’s head begins to fall as she begins to fade, I hope she can rest it on my shoulder. And mine on someone else’s. That together we will hold this life, and be thankful for each other. To rest in this peace of knowing that our differences hold no water now. Different last names and bloodtypes have no bearing here, today we are family. For that, I’ll always be grateful.

Thankfulness.

Tue, 20 Nov 2012 07:59:35 -0600

This year I can honestly say that I’m glad life isn’t easy. Without rejection, without mistakes, without disagreement, I would be incapable of empathizing. I would have little capacity for mercy or urgency for a better community. God, I may have hated you for the bad things years ago, but now I thank you for being patient with me always. Thank you for showing me that each negative in my life can have a positive, but it’s up to me to see those things turn around.

Thomas Jefferson once said, “I never considered a difference of opinion in politics, or...

Mon, 05 Nov 2012 21:34:58 -0600

Thomas Jefferson once said, “I never considered a difference of opinion in politics, or religion, as cause for withdrawing from a friend.” Thomas Jefferson obviously never had Facebook.

Gay youths in the US are eight times more likely to have attempted suicide than the average youth...

Mon, 05 Nov 2012 10:01:17 -0600

Gay youths in the US are eight times more likely to have attempted suicide than the average youth and six times more likely to report high levels of depression. How many must die physically (or spiritually) before the Church will begin to care? — I honestly don’t give a damn how you feel about homosexuality. But I do give a damn about these kids. They don’t deserve to die alone in such a dark place. They deserve to know God loves them. Would you please just shut up about what you believe and just LOVE instead?

perfect isn’t pretty.

Thu, 25 Oct 2012 07:10:00 -0500

perfect isn’t pretty.

You don't know what it's like.

Mon, 15 Oct 2012 14:05:59 -0500

You don’t know what it’s like. To be inside their shoes. These children, innocent minds with bright and full futures just ahead. You don’t know what it’s like. To have it engraved in your mind that every morning you wake up, you can do anything you want. So long as whatever you choose isn’t yourself. To be taught from adolescence that it’s okay to wear make-up and hide yourself. It’s okay to tell lies. To pretend like everything is okay when nothing is. You don’t know what it’s like. To grow up and spend your whole life alone at heart because you’d rather be accepted by your friends for who you’re not than rejected by them for who you are. You don’t know what it’s like.

Or maybe you do.

Maybe you know what it’s like. To be judged by how you look. To be forced into a stereotypical box. To be told you’re not good enough. Maybe you know what it’s like. To feel alone in a crowd of a million other people. To just want to fit in. To feel heartbroken every day that love is out of your hands. Maybe you know exactly what it’s like. Maybe we all do. So maybe we’re not so different after all.

work in progress.

Sun, 14 Oct 2012 15:44:51 -0500

work in progress.

The streets are my cathedral.

Sun, 14 Oct 2012 00:29:40 -0500

The streets are my cathedral.

Today I Quit Volunteering.

Tue, 09 Oct 2012 17:48:00 -0500

This headline may come as a shock to most of you. If you know just how important volunteering is to me. But hang with me, and I’ll explain.

Some people volunteer because it makes them feel good. Some people volunteer because they think they have to. Some people volunteer because they’d rather spend their spare time doing something than sitting still. Some people volunteer because they want to make a difference in this world. And others volunteer because they feel they grow personally by doing so.

I’m one of all of these people. But the main reason that I began volunteering in the first place was an insatiable need to prove myself as valuable.

You see, I grew up believing that I was not good enough. I was told as a gay youth (in the closet) that I didn’t exist. And I knew I couldn’t be gay; it just wasn’t an option. I had to rethink how I felt and reconsider. So I thought, and thought, and thought. I tried everything. I prayed nonstop. I cried, daily if not more. Those deep tears that flow from cuts in the heart. I read, I studied, I talked to pastors. Until I couldn’t try anything else. Until I had no more words left to pray. Until I had no tears left to cry. Until the hate for myself was just too great. Things didn’t change. So I came out.

This is who I am. I realized.

Twenty-seven years, but mostly the last 14, have been spent trying to disprove and, then later, prove myself. I fought myself for a grueling 10 years in the beginning. Thirteen until twenty-three. And it nearly got the best of me. Actually, it nearly claimed ALL of me. So at 23, I gave up. Not physically as I’d often considered, but spiritually. I couldn’t fight that battle any more. So I didn’t. I quit fighting. And what happened?

I found God. In my broken silence, when I couldn’t find any reason to live, when I couldn’t find anyone to hold me up, I found God. But not because I wanted to find Him there. He wasn’t even an option in that moment. Not after all I’d been through. I’d been told I had to choose between Him and myself. But, now it didn’t matter what I was told; it’s like all of my life had been building up to this one moment. This one moment when He knew I couldn’t do it on my own, but He knew I’d eventually have to stop running. And when I stopped and collapsed to the ground, I felt His arms wrap around me and pull me into Him so closely that nothing else mattered right then. I couldn’t even feel myself hit rock bottom when I did.

Honestly (and sadly), for the very first time in my life, I felt God’s overwhelming love. That was the first moment I allowed myself to accept this love. I’d always talked about my relationship with God and how my faith made life worth living. That hope kept me going for 10 years. But what happened when all that hope was gone? There was only myself and God left. I hated myself, I hated God. Broken. Severed ties. And what did He say to me then? I expected a harsh beating like the rest of the world. But this is what it felt like instead: “Stop running. I’ve always been here, ya big dummy. Why did you listen to what everyone else was saying except for me? Since when have I been a God without reason? I am the reason. You have reason. You have purpose. Why would I outlaw love? I AM LOVE. In the same way that great purpose went into your design, you have an important purpose to fulfill now.”

And so at 22 or 23, when this happened, I had a reason for living — maybe for the first time in my life. My Creator had very literally saved my life. It was personal to me now. I was alive - now that’s what a rebirth feels like. And I was ready to live. I was ready to celebrate. I was ready.

Immediately I realized that one of the most obvious purposes of my pain was my ability to empathize. This was natural to me. I felt others’ pain (because it was so real to me), and I desired mercy for everyone - just as I had received. It didn’t matter if I had lived their experience or not, I knew everyone is fighting their own tough battle. And I felt that everyone deserved to be loved, no matter what they were going through, especially the outcasts that didn’t know love and were ostracized just because people feared them. I felt like love was the way to change the world, not fear. Love sure had changed my world.

I was determined to use my power of empathizing to help others going through a difficult circumstance. I’d always had a inner draw towards the homeless, my fellow outcasts, and so that’s where I began. Ever since 2008, I’ve been volunteering for various homeless-oriented organizations and events across my hometown. As I continued, I grew as a person. I began to gain confidence in who I was, but I still deeply ached for the approval of others. A need to belong. To be accepted by my family, my church, people I admired. Specifically Christians who thought that I wasn’t good the way that I am. I had a dire desire to receive the approval of others in order to validate my legitimacy in this world. I wanted people to be proud of me. I didn’t want the first thing for people to know about me was that I was gay. I knew they wouldn’t listen to anything else that was said or done after that. I knew my kindness would be covered up by their labels of me. So I set out in search of proving myself worthy. I wanted to show them that I’m not a stereotype, I’m not a label, I’m not who they think gay people are. I wanted everyone to know that I was a good person even though I was gay. I needed their approval of my service since I wasn’t getting it with who I am.

Many of my supportive friends didn’t understand this as a real problem in my life. Something that I struggled with constantly. They’d say ‘just forget those people & move on.’ But I couldn’t. I still can’t. Those people are my parents. Those people are everywhere in my life. And even some of the supportive ones still have stereotypes entrenched in their mind about who I must be as a gay man. It hurts. And I want to change their perceptions.

But doing so leaves me in the same place where I was before. You can never please enough people to save yourself. You can never ever truly prove yourself to someone else. Not only can you not, but you shouldn’t have to. I was placing the emphasis on people instead of on God. No person should have ever held that much influence in my adult life. I idolized them, vying for their good judgement. And it was showing — I couldn’t love others very well without first loving myself.

So that leads me to here, where I quit volunteering. Allow me to connect the dots. Volunteering — the word — holds an implied meaning of doing it for free, selflessly doing good, sacrificing self for others gain and denying oneself.

Well, I’m quitting this type of volunteering. There is no place in my life for giving when it’s not investing. There’s no place for giving up or giving in when it’s not helping to better my own life. It sounds selfish doesn’t it? It is. But it’s also responsible.

God didn’t design us for waste. He designed us as an investment. Together we are individually better.

I refuse to look at the world as a place to spend my money and waste my time just getting by. Instead I’m choosing now to fulfill my purpose, my role in this world, my place that can’t be filled by anyone else but me. I am a steward. Given this one wonderful life to spend however I choose. No longer will I choose to spend it giving up myself solely for the happiness of others. No, now I will give up myself for a better me, a better us.

I’m trading in volunteering for just being me. It may not look different to anyone watching, as I’ll still be ‘serving’ in many of the same ways. But I am different now. I am not filling the role of a volunteer anymore. I am just me. I am doing what I’ve been called to do, not selflessly giving myself up for the sake of others. Hell no, in fact, I’m actually living the ultimate selfish role by needing to fulfill my personal place in this world. To volunteer means giving up time, work, etc with no expectations of anything in return. But I’m getting everything in return - I’m getting the life intended for me. And finally, I’m not doing this for anyone else’s approval. This time I’m doing this for me.

So when someone asks me why I volunteer, I will tell them that I don’t. I won’t. I’m not doing some nice things whenever it’s convenient for me. I’m investing my soul - binding it to the souls of others. I’m saying I love you — as much as I love me.

Volunteer roles are so easy for people to pass up because they are ancillary - add ons - extras. (No they aren’t!) I’m not feeding into this mentality any more. These roles are absolutely necessary. They’re just as important as our day jobs. The people that change the world do so by changing the way they view themselves.

It’s only when we stop subscribing to volunteer roles as being inactive or non necessities that our lives become fully active. Everyone has a role to play. It’s built into who we are. It’s not about finding an organization that does everything perfectly. It’s not about having all of the answers. It’s about doing something that is true to you — something that pushes the world one step closer to where you want it to be. It’s about being in this world, even though your soul is not of this world.

It’s about you getting your hands dirty. It’s about trial and error. It’s about doing everything you can to grow, to help your neighbor and to fulfill your purpose.

I urge you to find what keeps you awake at night. What really gets under your skin? What ticks you off more than anything else? Now how can you go do something about it?

Volunteering is a lifestyle of service. We shouldn’t be able to just turn it off and on. Life is mutually beneficial, so if we’re turning our backs on others, we’re also turning our backs on ourselves.

We are servants when we visit the grocery store and show kindness to a clerk. We are servants when we walk outside and lend a helping hand to the man with a flat tire. We are servants when we take that food to the mission. We are servants. No matter what we do. But how we act (or react) shows who we serve. No, it doesn’t look the same for everyone - and that’s the beauty of it all.

I guess my quitting is better stated as a change in mindset. The idea shifting to we’re all in this thing together. Every action I make is just as important as the ones I take to pay my bills. I’m getting rid of the thought that doing good is optional. And doing good shouldn’t be restricted to the places where I don’t get paid. Service should be prevalent everywhere. How would this change our workplaces if we thought this way? How would it change our world?

I want to find out. Today, I quit volunteering.

And I start serving everywhere that I can.

The beggar.

Fri, 28 Sep 2012 22:21:00 -0500

Or the bum as you like to call him.

You ask me, “When I see that guy on the side of the road beggin’ me for money, should I give it to him?”

You ask me like my job is to judge. Just because I’ve been seen with the homeless, been seen as some baggage, been seen as a troubled soul myself. So, you ask me, expecting me to know.

I’m sure you’re expecting some storybook answer to be told to you in return. But instead, I’ll answer your question with another.

Why wouldn’t you?

You give 207 of your dollars to a liquid bottle every month. Even more than that for your brand new shoes. And now you stand here asking me if you should give adollarto a homeless person you see on the side of the street??

Let the judge be the judge. Let the man love.

But you tell me “He could buy drugs.”

You tell me”He could buy alcohol.”

You tell me a lot of things. Wasting all your energy telling me. Wasting all your time on your words.

So if you’re in the mood for talking, then tell me this. Tell me about the Good Samaritan. I know you remember him.

Tell me, did he ask who the man was before he rescued him? Before he knelt down and risked his own life for another? Did he spare anything of his own because he questioned the motives of the other?

So is this story just reserved for the telling in picture books of our children? Or is there something more to be read, my friend?

You asked me —“Should I give him a dollar?” —Like that dollar is even yours to give.

Sure, you may have gone to college and worked hard to earn it, but do you really think it’s yours?

The journey, the things that had to fall into place to get you right where you are. Do you really take all the credit?

Recognize that money isn’t yours. And that bum you see in front of you — it isn’t his.

Like the talent in your soul. So is the money only borrowed. Sure, it’s yours to spend for now, but actions cash out louder than your words.

Your rationalization for how he could spend it is only resistance to your heart.

Now this wasn’t meant to be a rant to get you to empty out your bank account and give it all to a man. This is an account to get you to consider a different story.

In the end, it’s not about that dollar. It’s about what’s within your heart.

That dollar isn’t going to make or break that man.

But it just might make or break your own heart.

Quickly building up cynicism, blocking yourself off from the world.

I’m sorry if I jumped on your case so quickly. There’s just no good way to answer your frustrating question. Beat down by a system that’s, oh, so broken.

We’re all pushing into this spinning carousel and at best all we can do is slow it down long enough to jump to safety. That’s not how it should be. And, no, it’s not all your fault. No more yours than my own.

But can’t nobody sit back and watch it happen, blaming the victims stuck on the rollercoaster for the ride. We’ve gotta fight for each other, not to each his own.

So the next time you think”Should I give this man a dollar?”— Consider giving him your house, your land, share with him your food and everything you can.

Then you’ll realize the dollar is the very least of what you can do.

when i go to the villager for a game of darts..

Mon, 23 Apr 2012 20:33:29 -0500

whatshouldnashvillecallme:

..and a carton of cigarettes.

Photo

Mon, 12 Mar 2012 09:59:35 -0500

Oikia Nashville: Project Homeless Connect 2012

Wed, 22 Feb 2012 22:03:58 -0600

Oikia Nashville: Project Homeless Connect 2012:

According to the National Coalition for the Homeless:

20% of homeless youth are LGBT. In comparison, the general youth population is only 10% LGBT.
While homeless youth typically experience severe family conflict as the primary reason for their homelessness, LGBT youth are twice as likely to experience sexual abuse before the age of 12.
LGBT youth, once homeless, are at higher risk for victimization, mental health problems, and unsafe sexual practices. 58.7% of LGBT homeless youth have been sexually victimized compared to 33.4% of heterosexual homeless youth
LGBT youth are roughly 7.4 times more likely to experience acts of sexual violence than heterosexual homeless youth
LGBT homeless youth commit suicide at higher rates (62%) than heterosexual homeless youth (29%)

These stats show us the scale of this ugly reality in our world. But people are not stats. They are human beings that we need to wrap our arms around, pull in close to our hearts and love as much as we possibly can.

That’s why we do Project Homeless Connect here in Nashville. To love on people by removing their barriers to housing. The LGBT population is one of the hardest affected by homelessness, and this is a cause very dear to our hearts. I’m asking you to step out on a limb and dedicate one full day to helping the homeless in Nashville.

Will you please join me in volunteering at Project Homeless Connect 2012. Click here to sign up or for more information you can visit www.thekeyalliance.org/phc.

Something Has to Change. Like, Now.

Fri, 17 Feb 2012 11:25:49 -0600

Something Has to Change. Like, Now. :

Does it get better? Suicide, bullying and anti-LGBT legislation are creating tough times for gay Tennessee teens

Volunteer for Project Homeless Connect, Nashville

Sun, 22 Jan 2012 14:47:59 -0600

Volunteer for Project Homeless Connect, Nashville:

Join me on March 28th in serving our homeless neighbors and friends at Project Homeless Connect. A one-day event designed to remove individuals’ immediate obstacles to housing.

"When we focus on ourselves, our world contracts as our problems and preoccupations loom large. But..."

Thu, 19 Jan 2012 15:49:09 -0600

“When we focus on ourselves, our world contracts as our problems and preoccupations loom large. But when we focus on others, our world expands.”

- Daniel Goleman