The Musings of a Latte Queen: Narratives of Everyday Life

 Shattering stories, dashing hopes, smashing dreams, stomping on possibilities. We are living in what feels like this whirlwind of movement that only leaves destruction in its wake, So it is somewhat fitting that this morning, my husband, in his big former linebacker elegance and grace was whizzing through the library to kiss me goodbye on his way to an early meeting, gym bag and briefcase haphazardly on his shoulder, when in less than two seconds, he whirled around and hit the cabinet with my carefully curated mug collection and before either of us could stop the impending disaster, two of them catapulted to the hardwood flood and shattered in several pieces, the force of his gait and the velocity of the wind in that turn made this an impossible-to-safe-situation. "Ohhh, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." "I would clean that up." "I don't have time." He hugged me in remorse as he almost ran out the door to our garage, the clock ticking on his day. I sa...

 There is an iconic picture of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., his wife, the beautiful Coretta Scott King and all there other now legendary names of the Civil Rights Movement immortalized as they crossed the Edmund Pettis Bridge in Selma, Alabama.   It is striking.  Dressed in suits and Sunday best, these clergy and community leaders dared to defy systemic and institutionalized racism in the Jim Crow South. They marched to proclaim on The Lord's Day that all God's children were deserving of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness this country so boldly proclaims as our high tenants. We know the story. They were battered, beaten, and bruised. Not all walked out unscathed. My namesake was there, Sister Mary Antona Ebo, FSM, the only Black nun in that collection of clerics from Missouri who took that trip south because "I had to be here."  Her story has been told over and over by those who never spoke to us, the family, about who she was, or revered. And that is ok, tha...