January 17, 2014
Hope tingles in the back of my brain as I connect with my ancestry. I get the call that a relative has found proof of our heritage in the crinkled edges of a worm census report. We are documented, therefore we exist. We are ecstatic to find the past, while holding onto the promise of new connections. I am privileged to be part of a colorful, passionate blood line that is creative and wonderful, but that also wrestles with so many layers of guilt and shame. We sit in silence for a moment, honoring all that has come before us, but also seeing that our generation has the chance to change it. We just have to honor the past and then look forward, believing that we are worthy and that life can hold something new.