I grew up middle class in a very white, culturally conservative neighborhood. I didn't (knowingly) know a single queer person until I was in high school. I had interacted with exactly one black person before middle school. Everyone I knew was at least nominally Christian. I knew to look down on, ever so slightly, people whose family constellations looked differently than mine (married hetero parents, two kids, white picket fence). The additionally honest truth is that I was scared of anyone...

My first two kids arrived very mild mannered. They were playful and sweet and seemed to want to get along in the world (outside of agreeing to sleep). My third child, although incredibly happy, was very strong willed. When the others would toddle along into whatever event I brought them to, the third would run the other direction. When in trouble, the older two would sniffle and sit in time-out on their own. The third would scream, spit, and again run in the other direction. The older two...

Last week, I wrote about changing my mind about some personal beliefs and how, while I used to believe I couldn't change my mind out of sheer pride in being right, I've found I'm much happier and healthier when I allow myself to make a new decision when I realize an old one is causing harm. Being honest with yourself is a huge part of continuing to grow as a person. And with self-honesty comes humility. Which comes first? I cannot say. If you have any pride in your profession, you likely find...