Let's stop being silent.

The Washington Post has collected data on all people who have been killed by police officers since January 1, 2015. According to that data, in 134 of those police killings between January 1, 2015 and September 20, 2016 the victim was unarmed. The following commentary is based on the data related to those 134 unarmed victims.

According to Census Bureau’s March 2016 Current Population Survey, 61% of the United States population is White, 12% is Black, and 18% is Hispanic. Therefore, would mathematically estimate that approximately 61% of those victims were White, 12% of those victims were Black, and 18% of those victims were Hispanic. This would result in 81 White victims, 16 Black victims, and 24 Hispanic victims. However, according to the data collected by The Washington Post, there have been 51 White victims, 53 Black victims, and 23 Hispanic victims. Here is a chart displaying the data:

Race	Census Bureau’s March 2016 Current Population Survey	Mathematical estimate of number of police killings of unarmed victims by race out of 134 based on population percentages	Actual number of police killings of unarmed victims by race out of 134 based on data collected by The Washington Post
Black	12% of the USA population	16	53 (40% of all victims)
White	61% of the USA population	81	51 (38% of all victims)
Hispanic	18% of the USA population	24	23 (17% of all victims)

That is, while White people make up 61% of the USA population, they make up only 38% of the unarmed victims, and while Black people make up only 12% of the USA population, they make up 40% of the unarmed victims.

The disproportional police killings of unarmed Black and White individuals is a very serious problem. Police brutality is a terrible problem, but it is not even the real issue here. Police brutality towards Black individuals is a fatal symptom of an even more deadly disease, which is the systemic racism that gives privilege to people with White skin while demeaning everyone else. There has been conflict and bloodshed over racial lines in our country since its birth, and all non-White groups in the USA have been marginalized and disregarded ever since White people set food in the USA. Systemic racism has to do with White people who claim that they are not racist not realizing that they are privileged, it has to do with White silence in the face of non-White pain.

To my White brothers and sisters: All of our thoughts and opinions are shaped by our experiences, and as White people, our experiences do not match the experiences of non-White people in our country that we have thoughts and opinions about.  We cannot understand what it is like for non-White people in our country, but we can see that they are hurting. The media can twist things, but the data indicates that unarmed Black people are being killed at a faster rate than any other group in our nation. Silence never really was an option for us, but we have a history of being silent anyway. Let’s ask questions and be willing to listen, let’s loosen our grip on our views so that we can begin to sympathize with what our neighbors are going through, let’s recognize that there are ugly things happening in our country and we have not done much about it, let’s stop hiding, stop ignoring, stop blaming, and start accepting responsibility. Let’s stop being silent.

To my Black brothers and sisters: Though I cannot truly understand your pain, I see you hurting and I hurt with you. I care, though I don’t always know how to express that. Thank you for your patience and grace with me thus far and in the future, because I know I will continue to need it.

A Teacher's Thoughts After Another Graduation

Thornton Fractional South High School's class of 2016 graduated last night, and as I walked to my car afterwards, my mind was doing somersaults to process new (and yet, becoming more familiar every year) emotions.

•  I felt happy and excited for the class of 2016! I saw their smiles and heard their shouts of joy. I witnessed their celebrations with family and friends in front of the school, giving hugs and taking pictures and being happy. And amid such celebrations, I cannot help but share the joy! I am excited for what will come for them and proud of their accomplishments and happy for them!
• But as I saw the celebrations, it was evident to me that there were additional emotions that I was feeling. Yes, I was excited for them and happy. But there was something else, almost like a slight sense of mourning. I spent 5 hours a day, 5 days a week with Rebels since mid-August. They have played a big part in my life for the past nine months, and graduation represented not only a transition out of high school for the class of 2016, but an end to the 2015-2016 school year. Lots of sweat and a few tears have gone into the last nine months, and now it is over. Teaching is like that, though. Teaching involves giving your heart to class after class, year after year... and then bidding them farewell at the end of the year, praying that your time with them has somehow better equipped them for the journey ahead, and remembering everything that they have taught you.
• I feel grateful for the time I had with the class of 2016 and with the underclassmen of TF South. It has been an honor for me to spend these last nine months with them.

So, class of 2016... I thank you all for sharing a bit of your senior year with me!! Congratulations!! And best of luck in whatever you do next!!

A Valentine's Day Poem Because Christ is Sufficient

I remember Valentine’s Day in 10^thgrade, sitting in English class thinking:

I can’t see the board because there’s a giant teddy bear sitting in front of me.

Of course… even if I could see the board, my senses are too overwhelmed by all of the chocolate and flowers to consider focusing on Shakespeare.

Happy Valentine’s Day.

Every year, Valentine’s Day came with a little shard of hope:

7^thgrade: Maybe today I'll find out that someone likes me.
8^th grade: Maybe today someone will decorate my locker.
9^th grade: Maybe today I'll get a valentine from someone who thinks I'm just wonderful.
10^th grade: Maybe today I will get one of those secret Valentine Gram things being sold in the cafeteria.

10^thgrade Hannah never would  have admitted it, but I wanted to feel loved.

I wanted a teddy bear.

I wanted a flower.

I wanted chocolate.

I wanted a Valentine Gram.

Because receiving a Valentine Gram meant that someone thinks I am special.

That was the bottom line.

It wasn’t actually about the chocolates,

Or the flowers,

Or the teddy bears.

It was about proof that I’m special.

I wanted to be someone’s most important person.

I wanted that attention.

I wanted to be valued by someone else, other than my parents.

I wanted affirmation.

I wanted to have worth.

I wanted to feel loved.

I wanted to feel loved and I thought that a teddy bear would do it.

But it’s not enough.

A teddy bear is not enough.

A dozen roses won’t satisfy.

The desire that I have, that desire to be loved and valued, cannot be met by a heart shaped box of chocolates or even by the special someone who gives them to me.

That desire to be loved and valued can only be satisfied, completely satisfied, in Jesus Christ.

Because His love for me is constant.

It doesn’t depend on me and on what I say and what I do.

He loves me unconditionally.

He loves me just because He wants to! And I can’t do anything about it!

This is the love that I long for!!

But instead of realizing that, I’ve been looking for it in teddy bears and love poems on Valentine’s Day.

I don’t have to keep looking. Love is here.

Teddy Bears are cute. But they aren’t unconditional.

Roses smell good. But they don’t last.

Christ’s love for me is greater.

It tells me that I am valued.

It reminds me that I belong to Him.

When I feel lonely, unimportant, and unspecial, His love whispers to me that I am His, that He is mine.

[Sidenote: Resting in the sufficiency of Christ’s love for me isn’t just something that I resort to until Prince Charming comes along.

No relationship can survive with the pressure to wholly satisfy.

Regardless of relationship status, Christ’s unchanging love is not only sufficient, but also necessary. Not only is He enoughto satisfy, He is also the onlyone who actually can satisfy my desperately longing heart.]

Now… am I completely satisfied in Christ? Do I always find my comfort in His perfect and unconditional love for me?

No.

There are moments when I forget that I already am loved with the greatest love that the world has ever known.

There are times when I fail to remember that Christ’s love for me is so great that He literally died for me, so that I can spend eternity with Him, starting now.

There are days when I still want a heart shaped box of chocolates.

And on those days, the God of the whole universe continues to pursue me with unshakable love that never fails.

“Hannah,” He says. “I love you.”

this post is about white privilege

I've been thinking about white privilege. It's kind of uncomfortable to think about. I don't like thinking about the sick system that I am a part of - the system that I have unknowing contributed to and benefited from at great cost.

My understanding is incomplete (and will never be complete) and perhaps partially incorrect. Nevertheless, I invite you to join this conversation with me. Here are some things that I have identified as white privilege:

1. When I learn about the history of my country, I see that people who look like me are the ones who fought for the land that I call home.
2. The textbooks that I read all through school told the stories of people who look like me and their contributions to the world. Unless, of course, I took one of those elective courses, African American Literature or Asian Studies.
3. The money that I use to buy things has pictures of people who look like me on it.
4. A majority of my elected officials have the same skin color as me.
5. My failure has never been attributed to my race.
6. I don't fear the police or law enforcement.
7. I don't really ever have to think about race. Unless, of course, I'm thinking about "other" people. 
8. It would not be hard for me to arrange to be in the company of people of my race most of the time.
9. I can turn on the television and see people of my race widely represented.
10. My parents did not have to educate me to be aware of systemic racism for my own daily protection. 
11. I can speak to a powerful group without putting my race on trial. 
12. My success is not considered a credit to my race.
13. I grew up assuming that racism was individual, specific acts of unkindness, not invasive and systemic injustice.  
14. When I get pulled over, I can be sure I haven’t been singled out because of my race. 
15. I generally feel well represented in situations where various opinions are being heard, rather than feeling unheard, isolated, out-of-place, outnumbered, held at a distance or feared.
16. If I have low credibility as a leader I can be sure that my race is not the problem.
17. Most of the emojis on my phone have the same color skin as me.

But perhaps the biggest privilege is the fact that I had to do some research (an embarrassing amount of research, actually...) in order to make this short (and grossly incomplete) list. Why? Because I think that perhaps the greatest of all white privileges is the privilege of oblivion.

We have the privilege of being completely oblivious of our privilege.We have the privilege of living day after day unaware of how the color of our skin affects our lives, of being able to fool ourselves into believing that our success and achievements are all due to our own efforts and hard work.

There are many things about white privilege that I cannot control. I cannot control how other people respond to my whiteness. Oblivion, however, is something that I can control, to some extent. No, I will never be able to completely shed my oblivion - there will always be something more for me to learn, something deeper to understand, another story to hear, and another realization of my own lack of regard. I cannot obliterate oblivion, but I can fight it.

And may I never forget that I cannot fight it alone. I need brothers and sisters by my side, fighting it with me, by sharing and talking and teaching and learning and loving each other.

Thank You, God, for Your grace of showing me how oblivious I am of the white privilege that has affected my life. Thank You for the people that You have put in my life to help me to see these things better, and help me to not grow complacent or comfortable or arrogant, but rather to continue to identify this privilege (oh, but God, I can hardly call "privilege" what has caused such pain and division...) and share stories and pain and joy with brothers and sisters from all nations, humbly willing to listen and learn and share. You are our hope.

Short term memory loss runs in my family

I think I have a lot in common with Dory the fish and the Israelites. We're all dealing with some short term memory loss problems.

Let's talk about the Israelites first. They are slaves in Egypt. God sends plagues to the land of Egypt to reveal His power and rescue His people from captivity. The Israelites watch as God sends frogs and boils and gnats and flies and hail and locusts and darkness to Egypt. They are spared from God's wrath towards the Egyptians, and when Pharaoh finally relents and allows them to leave, the LORD guides the Israelites out of Egypt, going ahead of them in a pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night. And, if that's not proof enough for them that God has things under control, when the Egyptians come after the Israelites, God parts the Red Sea so that the Israelites can walk through on dry ground, and then drowns the Egyptians when they attempt to follow.

God parted the Red Sea. And the Israelites walked through it. They walked through the sea. And it was dry. Because God parted it. He dried up a path long enough for His people to walk through it... and then He un-dried it and drowned the Egyptians.

God parted the sea.

Seriously, He parted the sea.

GOD PARTED THE SEA!!!! 

Really, now... seas don't part. Usually. That's not normal. But, God can part seas! And the Israelites got to walk through a parted sea!!

When they got to the other side, they had a party. They celebrated and sang and danced and I bet it was pretty great!

And then... three days later, the Israelites grumble because they want some water. 

What?

Really? Three days? It's only been three days? In three days, they forgot how God had taken care of them? In three days, they forgot how God had parted a sea and provided a way? In three days, they stop the celebration because they're thirsty?

GOD PARTED THE RED SEA THREE DAYS AGO, PEOPLE!!!! But the Israelites had already forgotten. Instead of remembering what their God could do, what He had done, instead of trusting Him and relying on Him, they grumble and complain and question His ability to care for them. They forget how good God is.

As much as I would like to think that my memory is better than that of the Israelites, I know that my heart is prone to wander, just like theirs. Their story is an accurate representation of my heart condition. I have a tendency to forget about God's goodness and sovereignty. Instead of trusting Him, remembering the way that He rescued me out of darkness and into His marvelous light, recalling His constant provision, and joyfully praising Him for Christ's work on my behalf, I get wrapped up in lesson plans and stacks of papers to grade, I worry about fulfilling responsibilities and stress about meeting deadlines and complain about not getting enough sleep.

"I suffer from short term memory loss. It runs in my family! At least... I think it does... Where are they?..."

That has always been one of my favorite lines from Finding Nemo because I always thought it was funny. Now, I'm beginning to see that it is a line that I can deeply relate to.

My name is Hannah, and I suffer from short term memory loss. It runs in my family. We have a problem remembering big things sometimes. Everyday, I forget how good God is. I forget the gospel. I forget that Christ is sufficient. 

But God is good, the gospel is true, and Christ is sufficient! And that is wonderful news to my forgetful heart.

I'm hungry

Every time I've been awake for about 16 hours, my body starts talking. It usually says something like this: Hey. It's about that time... I'm getting sleepy. Do I get to sleep soon? Because, I'd like that. And then I lay down and sleep for some time and when I wake up, my body waits about 16 hours and then starts talking again.

I don't last much more than 16 hours effectively without doing the whole sleep thing.

But, hey, my body says other stuff, too. Every time I've gone about 3 hours without eating, my body says something like this: Hey. Is it breakfast time? Lunch time? Dinner time? Snack time? I'm hungry. Do I get to eat soon? I'd like that. And then I eat something and a few short hours later, my body starts talking again.

I get these reminders from my body every few hours. I need sleep. I need food. I need a bathroom. And yet, I somehow find myself believing that I am independent and in charge of my life.

Oh really, Hannah? You're independent? You can do this life thing by yourself? You don't rely on food? Your body doesn't need sleep? You can't even stay awake for one full day without losing your ability to think clearly. And you think you're independent? That's funny.

You think  you're in charge? You sleep for 6 to 8 hour hours at a time. During this time that you are sleeping, you aren't in control of anything. You aren't even aware of what is going on around you during this time. While you are sleeping, you aren't helping anyone or planning anything or being in charge of anything. You're sleeping. Do you really want the one who is in charge of your life to sleep through a quarter of it?

I cannot eat one big meal and then be good for a month. I need to eat regularly. Hourly, even. Nor can I sleep for a week and then stay awake for a week. I need a pattern of regular rest. I can't go to the bathroom for a very very long time and then not have to go at all for weeks. It doesn't work like that. I cannot breath a whole bunch of air, and then just not breathe for a couple of days. I need to be breathing constantly, continually depending on the oxygen in the air to fill my lungs because I can't fill them on my own. I regularly, daily, hourly, second-by-second rely on food, on rest, on the presence of a bathroom, on the air that I breathe. Moreover, I regularly, daily, hourly, constantly rely on the One true God, the One who doesn't have to sleep, the One who is in charge while and I am sleeping and while I am awake, the One who is completely independent, the One on whom I depend for every breath that I take, the One who doesn't depend on any of those things but is completely sufficient in Himself and provides naps and oxygen every single time I need them.

I delight in this dependence because I delight in the One on whom I depend. Independence wouldn't work out well for me. I forget that a lot, but with each growl of my stomach I am reminded that I cannot satisfy myself.

life lessons and gray (grey?) hair

I just found a gray hair. On my head. I think that means I'm getting wise.

And... then I plucked it out. I don't know what that means...

But since I'm suddenly feeling wise, I think now would be a good time to share some wisdom. You see, somewhere in the midst of flying from Peru back to the States, I graduated from college... officially graduated from college. And I never really thought about it because I was busy transitioning and getting a job and living life. But now that I think about it... oh man! I have graduated from college! I learned many many wonderful things in college... I learned about the intricate mathematical beauty of seashells and the psuedospheres of hyperbolic geometry... and I learned some life lessons. And I'm going to share them, because maybe the things that God taught me during college can also speak to you somehow.

I learned to love learning. Really. Learning is SO FUN!!! Late in my college experience, a fellow math-loving friend and I decided that we would make the most of learning and give each class a chance. We were taking a particular education class together that we had heard lots of bad things about and no good things about. But we decided that we would give this class a chance from the start and not be swayed by what we have heard other people say. We wanted to like it. And... we loved it! This class was awesome! Our classmates didn't think so, unfortunately. But we honestly really liked this class. We got so much more out of it than other people just because we did not come into class on the first day already knowing that we wouldn't like the class.

People will complain about everything. If you look for it, you can always find something to complain about in a class. My challenge to you is... love learning. Or whatever you're doing. It is a choice that you have to make. It won't necessarily happen automatically. You have to consciously choose to try to love it and have fun with it. And, I guarantee you, if you are in college and you decide that you are going to try to love learning... you are going to enjoy your classes and your education SO MUCH MORE.

I learned to be content being single. I was single throughout college. Not by choice, really... just because that's how life went. I was never looking for a relationship, and I never found one, and I am perfectly fine with that. My friends and acquaintances were more concerned about this, though. There were (many) times when friends, some well meaning and others nosy, would ask me how I'm doing with being single. The conversation would start something like this...

"Hannah, tell me... how are you, really? I mean, with, you know, being single and all..." their voice would get softer and softer as they went, as if they didn't want to utter the word "single" too loud... Maybe they thought that being single was some contagious disease that they could catch if they said the word out loud.

Sometimes, I completely ignored the question. But usually I answered politely and didn't say what I was thinking. What makes you think that my relationship status is your business? You're annoying me and if I wanted to talk to you about being single, then I would have brought it up already, but I didn't because I don't, so please leave now.

I know people were trying to be kind and thoughtful and most of them seemed to genuinely think that I must be experiencing serious inner turmoil due to not being in a relationship. The truth is... being single is cool. I have struggled with other things... like transitioning from college--there's a big one. But as far as being single goes, I'm enjoying the stage of life that I am in. If someday I am no longer single, I'll enjoy that, too. But I'm not living for that moment. My future is in God's very able hands and I trust His plan.

I learned to take a break. Sometimes, you need to put down the text book that you're reading, forget about the LONG list of assignments, projects, research papers, and readings that you have to complete, and go to Dairy Queen. Or the beach. Or apple picking. Or fishing. Or on a road trip to Washington D.C. I did all of these things during college, and they were all worth it. Less than a year after graduating, it isn't the studying and writing and reading that I remember when I think of college. It's the breaks that I took to do things with friends that I remember. Sometimes they were long breaks. Sometimes they were short breaks. But they always meant putting down the work and doing something else. Even if you work ALL THE TIME and NEVER TAKE BREAKS, you probably won't be able to finish EVERYTHING in college to the best of your ability. There is too much. You must prioritize. And taking breaks needs to be a high priority. The rest of your study time is much more productive when you take breaks, and life is richer and funner and awesomer. Breaks are worth it.

I learned to do silly things. Jump in frozen ponds. Play soccer in dorm hallways. Have shopping cart races. Run in puddles. Do silly things. It makes life funner.