The Ordinary Impact

I saw a shirt in a local coffee shop that said #BetterTogether across the back. And I believe that. I really do. Unity. Community. Togetherness. These are all better than isolation, division, or just going it alone. But, full disclosure, my circle is small. Not because I don’t care about people, but because trust is hard sometimes . I believe in community, but I don’t always fully embrace it. There are moments I hold back. Because being #BetterT ogether sounds nice… Until someone challenges our opinion, our politics, our preferences, or even our parenting. Then, suddenly, it’s #BetterApart, or #BetterQuiet , or #BetterGone . Because togetherness isn’t just about gathering. It’s about growing. And that requires humility. It means admitting we don’t have it all figured out. It means being open to change, not just in others, but in ourselves. And that’s a lot harder than wearing a shirt with a hashtag on the back. Too many times, we default to living more like #BetterIfYo...

I grew up in Illinois—the Land of Lincoln. I learned about the Emancipation Proclamation in school. We took field trips to Springfield. We walked past bronze statues and read plaques in the Capitol. We were taught that Abraham Lincoln freed the slaves. But no one told us the whole story. No one mentioned that it took more than two years after Lincoln’s proclamation of freedom to finally reach every corner of the country. No one told us about June 19, 1865 —when the last group of enslaved people in Galveston, Texas, were told they were free. No one said their freedom had already been signed into law, but it was withheld. Delayed. Denied. That day—Juneteenth—was missing from my textbooks. But it matters. Deeply. Juneteenth is a celebration of freedom, yes—but it’s also a call to honesty. A call to look again at the stories we were told and ask,  “What was left out?” "Who was left out?" It’s a day to amplify Black joy, history, culture, and resilience. And for those o...