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Early in the spring semester, I had another bout of feeling like an impostor in the classroom. I cannot recall what exactly prompted it this time, but the feeling was familiar, the voice in my head saying, “you do not know what you are doing. You are not the teacher ...
“So, if anyone tells you to go to hell,” I say to my students, “you can say, ‘that’s fine—because Jesus has already been there, so I won’t be alone.’” When I started teaching theology at Columbia Seminary nearly twenty years ago, nobody told me that I needed ...
One photograph: a luminous dark body curved in upon itself, hands pressed to head. One photograph, chosen in haste and shown as part of a recorded lecture in theology class this spring. That’s all it took to bring me face to face with my own racism, and to trigger ...