I have a question that events and conversations over the past few years have created. I will not recount these conversations or the people involved because that would take more time than I want to spend, nor do I think it’d be fair to the participants, either (even if I were to disguise them like I do with every story that appears here). Suffice it to say, I’ve sat back and merely observed these conversations, watching what was going on around me. I have not come to any conclusions, so I suppose you could say this post is a mental exercise to try and at least come close to placing my finger upon something firmer than I currently have in my head. What I’m searching and have formed a hypothesis for is the answer to the following question: At what point do we quantify individuals, determining there has been a certain juncture where they merit or acquire a fixed label that solidifies them for the rest of their lives? Read More


Sometimes I’ll write a post, and then it will sit in my folder on my computer for years. I just dug this one up, read it again, and can’t really figure out why I never put it up here. So I’ve brushed it up a bit. One summer while I was in college, I lived at home in Dallas and went downtown at midnight on a Thursday with some friends to feed the homeless. I don’t write this now and didn’t write this three or four years ago to paint a picture of me as a loving and socially conscious human being. Nothing could be further from the truth. In fact, I declined multiple chances to go downtown in the weeks prior to actually doing it because I honestly couldn’t convince myself I wouldn’t be going just to try and prove a point to a girl who’d recently told me she didn’t think I spent enough time around poor people. That got my blood boiling, but I didn’t feel like it was an appropriate impetus for service—that “I’ll show her” mentality. Read More