One of the neglected discussions within the black community is the need to truly acknowledge and embrace how diverse of a people we are. The African diaspora continues to stretch its arms wider to encompass many representations of blackness. Because the black community has been slow to recognize and process its growing diversity, not all black voices are heard and welcomed. Some of our unheard black brothers and sisters are multiracial. I am among them.  

 

I grew up at the intersection of my reformed Jewish family, my conservative white family, my charismatic black family, and my Brazilian stepfamily. My childhood was filled with traveling to see these sides of my family. There were always adventurous reunions to go to on the south side of Chicago, in rural Wisconsin, and on the beaches of Rio de Janiero. Growing up, my mom blasted Motown music and my dad played Folk Rock. I didn’t have authority over the radio so I learned to love their music. I have countless memories of waiting impatiently for relaxers to transform my curls into an unnatural state. I was able to endure hours in the salon because the old Tyler Perry plays on TV helped pass the time. I remember being at a few Bluegrass festivals with my dad and sisters. We were the darkest people around for miles! White people in the crowd would look at us in disbelief of our presence or as if we were sad little adopted kids. Though I always loved the music, I felt like a stain that people were staring at. I remember rejoicing over the black Barbie dolls my mom would give me to play with. I remember how thrilled I was about the tennis class my dad would take me to. 

 

I grew up with an abundance of underserved privileges from being in a middle class and two-parent household, which included a white father. I carry a grieved heart knowing that my upbringing is not the reality for many of my black brothers and sisters. With the same heavy heart, I can also testify to growing up with an abundance of internal discomforts produced by racial unrest around me. Being multiracial has been a position of living between racial crossfire and struggling with a chronic dissatisfaction about who I am and who I am not. I have experienced rejection from both white people and black people. And I have also felt the sting of receiving partial acceptance, as if I’m a guest with a visitor’s pass among my own people, rather than a rightful member. Words like “Nigger, Half breed, Oreo, Exotic” have all been thrown at me. Assumptions about who I am, what kind of music I like, what things I enjoy doing, and who I want to be around have also been casted over me. And I am familiar with pressures to fit into stereotypes of society and expectations to embody a narrow definition of blackness. With the combination of experiencing sporadically blatant racism and apathetic ignorance, gathered with frequent micro aggressions, I know that the white community has systemically and socially inflicted the greatest harm to people like me. However, I have felt a distinguished disappointment towards my black brothers and sisters for not knowing how to receive me and affirm my blackness. I have had hope that the people who look like me, the people who are most familiar with marginalization would be capable of fully embracing me. It is my prayer that my black brothers and sisters will learn to have a posture of listening and begin to ask questions about multiracial experiences. 

 

The multiracial narrative encapsulates a range of stories depending on the specific makings each person’s racial backgrounds. Growing up within a black and white background is very different from growing up within multiple minority backgrounds. Growing up within two racial backgrounds is different than growing up within more than two racial backgrounds. I personally feel that the language mono racial people use to define and describe multiracial people is insensitive and unhelpful. Multiracial people are often described with phrases like “75% black, ¼ white, only half Latino, just part Asian, not fully Middle Eastern.” This can make many of us feel like fragmented individuals and severed parts. The numeric language perpetuates our feelings of not fully being accepted and lacking belonging among our own people. It communicates that some pieces of us are welcomed but not us in our entirety. Given the pressure of our experiences, it’s unfair for us to be expected to fraction our identity or actions to make mono racial people feel more comfortable with our complexity. This is one reason that fellowship and community within the church can be a struggle for us. Since we find our racial journey confusing, we wrestle with wondering who can love and accept our complexity. Rather than pressuring us to pick one side or manipulating us to identify with the race we are most physically or internally perceived as, allow us to speak for ourselves. Instead of defining multiracial people as a fraction or a percentage, recognizing us as fully all of each our backgrounds is much more dignifying. Doing this honors the God that created us and gave us our dignity.

 

We see similar complexities concerning the theme of identity in scripture. People like Moses, Paul, Barnabas, Timothy, the Samaritan woman, and JESUS were bridge builders between cultures. They were characters that people found difficult to fully understand and accept. Jesus was described and defined as fully human and fully God. His humanity and divinity demonstrates the biggest existential divide possible. He is a whole person and a whole God. Scripture teaches us to have peace with that mysterious and beautiful paradox. One aspect of his identity does not devalue or cancel out the other. 

 

 

Much of the multiracial journey with Jesus involves reaching a place of peace with the paradox of fully being each of the races that we are, all at once. The journey also reveals that multiracial identity cannot be defined or threatened just because others don’t understand it. Multiracial people need the black community to be inquisitive and inclusive while pointing us to Jesus. Since so many unhelpful voices have spoken into multiracial identity, it’s the greatest gift for us to discover that only one voice truly matters. This voice is not the voices from either side of our cultural backgrounds. It’s certainly not the voices of mono racial people or society’s expectations. It’s not even the multiracial voices. The one voice is Jesus. Only Jesus has the authority to speak definitions of us. Only he is aware of the different dimensions and depths to who we are. Only Jesus is the one who is comfortable with our complexity and only Jesus has the capacity to fully understand us. 

 

Multiracial people are a gift from God to baffle and teach mono racial people, including the black community. We are a dose of humility to division and a foreshadowing of God’s justice. So much racism and prejudice has survived and spread over the course of human history. This demonstrates such a need for racial reconciliation in the world and unity within the black community. God has designed multiracial people to call for peace in the midst of crossfire, to be a prophetic voice to each of their backgrounds, to grasp multiple realities simultaneously, and to personify racial reconciliation. Our existence reflects the beautiful paradox of Jesus’ identity and his coming Kingdom.

 

By God’s hand, the multiracial community continues to grow rapidly within the climate of this country’s racial turmoil. We are also seeing the multiracial community experience oppression and share in the cries of “Black Lives Matter,” alongside the rest of the black community. There is an urgent need for us all to be unified, not only in our shared suffering but also in our shared blackness. As the black community grows in loving multiracial people, we are activating an entire generation of black leaders and strategic peacemakers who have been overlooked. The black community has a legacy of fighting for racial reconciliation and holistic justice in the world. In the midst of this, we have reached new heights of black unity. Imagine how all of these pursuits could bloom into fuller form if our multiracial brothers and sisters are each recognized and accepted for the unique narrative that they have to offer to blackness.

 

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AuthorBradford Everett

Presence: is the state or fact of existing, occurring, or being present in a place or thing.


I started this blog with definition of “Presence” because the presence of black men is under attack. With the mass incarceration of black men, to the father-less homes, and in the workplace the presence of black men is lacking. 

I work in Child Welfare Services andbeing a big black male I look different from my coworkers. Which just means I am not female or white. I look like or can relate more towards the families I serve, as majority look like me, or even remind me ofmy family members or friends I have met through my life. When I go to some neighborhoods, some which are considered the hood, ghetto. I say that because my wife would call me when I am at work to ask me when was I coming come? This question used to getme mad and I used to laugh and wonder what type of question is that? Of course I’m coming home! I come home every night! What I didn’t understandwas my wife had the right to ask me those questions being thatmy job is unpredictable with the on calls, going to court, jails, homes and not knowing what are in those homes. In reality I'm not guaranteed to come every night. On top of my job the amount of time I drive on the road puts me at a higher percentage of being in a car accident. I began to understand the fear in my wife's statement, “Are you coming home tonight.?” All that combined with the killing of unarmed black men in the news has my wife/ family on high alert. A couple of years ago I ignorantly thought the police would never harass mebeing that I work closely with them, I even have a couple offriends who are police so this isn’t an attack, but   the seemingly increase in the number of black men being killed WITH video evidence of police using extreme force is worrisome and almost always equals no justice for the victim, the victim’s family, and the community. That has me extra cautious about my baby boy when he grows up because most likely he is going to be a large black man like his father, uncles, and grandfather that andI am terrified of being stopped by the police and my son growing up in a world that fears his skin and his large size.

The night after Terrence Crutcher was shot my wife and I were fed-up asking ourselves, how can this just keep happening? We turned the TV off and went to bed. While I was sleeping I was woken-up by my wife. She punched me and the forceshook me to my soul. "I need you to be here. We need you to be here!” Confused as to why my wife punched me, I didn’t understand her statement till she made me sit-up and explained, “Your presence is needed in our lives for me and your son. You bring something to our home that can't be matched. When you come home from work and open up the back door our son gets a smile that only you can put on his face. That smile can't be duplicated and if you are gone our son will miss you and he will never have that smile knowing his father is home. I know you're stubborn and I fear if you are stopped by the police I wont see you again. 

It was a simple yet important reminder of the importance of my presence in my family's lives. 

I've worked in the dependency system since 2011 and I’ve seen how badly minority clients are treated comparatively to white clients. I realizedthat low in-come families are criminalized more due to poor legal representation and unconscious bias when severing minority families. I’ve seen how the dependency system mirrors the criminal system with the over criminalization of minority areas. In my workplace I see how my presence (me being a big black man) is needed and valued. I say that because a high majority of the families that I serve are minorities. Representation matters! I think when a minority family has a minority case manager; a good case manager at that it can alleviate the stress of going through the dependency system. In my job men are scarce and the number of black men is even fewer. 

This country is at an crossroads where faith within the black community is beingtested and we need to exhibit the faith the size of mustard seed and rebuke evil forces in our path. With everything the black community has suffered I take comfort in reading Psalms 121 and knowing that God has not slept on injustice and he has not forgotten about his people

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AuthorBradford Everett
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What do you do when you feel called to live your life differently than your family? Especially when both parties profess Jesus as Lord but the way we follow Jesus has manifested quite differently?

Coming from a traditional Haitian Christian family has been hard. Cultural customs, traditions, and ideals are woven into their Christian lifestyle. Somewhere along the line their customs and traditions have become just as sacred as the bible. It’s become so hard to unravel it all.

 

And over the years it’s unraveled to a point that everything I was taught was on the table. Reflecting, I think everything should be on the table. No tradition, customs, line of thinking should be too scared when compared to following Jesus.

 

But it comes to a point where you have to wrestle and make sense of what's on the table and when you put that to light next to God, some things will have to fall to the wayside. My family was part of that, along with things like monetary success or relationship statuses that seems more pertinent than submitting a life to Jesus’ lordship. I’ve had to have honest conversations with family that in this season of life Jesus isn’t calling me to those things. The truth is, I may never be led down that path.

 

How do I keep going? Plainly it's Jesus. Everything I've needed, he’s provided. When my parents cut me off, I found folks to take me in and they have become family. Not just a spiritual family, but a family in every sense of the word. When cousins gave me ultimatums on living with them, I found a open space in community with folks I've never met. When I didn't know what was next, I found a community of young believers asking the same questions and they still found a way serve in any capacity they could.

 

Nonetheless, it's been hard. I mean real hard. I have a huge family, like "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" big and we're close. To go from the kid that was highly praised to the black sheep, something tears inside of you. It's as if I'm no longer loyal to the family unit. I mentally had to realign my identity and the role of my family with Jesus. My identity no longer came from things that I excelled at. It was all stripped away when I chose to walk away from their way of doing things. I had to find solace in simply being a child of God.

This season, I’ve had some of my darkest nights. I had to wrestle with how God could still be good during this time because to be honest, He didn't feel all that good to me. And yet I remained. I remained at the feet of Jesus. I remained in community. I remained in Tampa.

 

I'm not sure if it was my stubbornness that kept me grounded or the same drive that causes me to fight to be seen as an equal despite my gender and race. But I was going to make it work. There was feeling in the pit of my stomach that Jesus had more to say about my life.

 

Although my family may never come around, I hope that my life inspires them to think about their own life and how Jesus wants them to live their life. Through it all, I’ve found joy and gained a steady heart and familiarity with the people of God who also give up their lives for the sake of the Gospel. I don't think I would have made it without my community. They are truly a gift from God and a reflection of God's grace.

 

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AuthorBradford Everett

But it comes to a point where you have to wrestle and make sense of what's on the table. And when you put that to light next to God, some things will have to fall to the wayside. And my family was part of that. Things like monetary success or relationship status seems more pertinent than submitting a life to Jesus’ lordship. I’ve had to have honest conversations with family that in this season of life Jesus isn’t calling me to those things. The truth is, I may never be led down that path.

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AuthorBradford Everett

The repercussion of suppressed pain from trauma within the black community is real and pervasive. 

Often the narrative of the black experience in America is downplayed by non-blacks. The discrimination and racism that is experienced is not given the time and attention necessary to be able to move forward as a community. As a black woman, I think to myself and pray to Jesus asking how do we heal, how do we move forward when we are in a constant state of trauma? Any day of the week there is a different issue in the headlines because of racism. When do we take time to unpack our feelings of fear, insecurity, pain and confusion while trying to stay focused, motivated and up to par with everyone else who is not perceived in the same light? It’s so hard to juggle but yet so necessary that we deal with the reality of the way trauma effects our lives.

The explicit and implicit ways that systematic oppression is allowed to run rampant in this country impacts our health, finances, relationships, and honestly every aspect of our lives. From the surface we can wear a mask that hides our fears, pain and insecurities. Masks of education, financial security, or “I don’t care” but that can cause us to be disconnected and numb to the reality of our inner feelings. The suppression of our pain is dangerous. The pain of not being seen as equals to our white counterparts, the pain of being pressured to change our speech, alter our hair and style to fit into and be seen as relevant in mixed race settings harms us. The fact that going out to dinner in a certain area of town while being black can be a traumatic experience is ridiculous. These experiences are so common that sometimes we don’t realize that it’s not okay and is emotionally damaging to us. I don’t believe the black community has problems recognizing the acts of racism, I think we don’t take enough time to care for ourselves while experiencing them.  These acts and messages impact how we view ourselves, God and each other.

Our emotional wounds are no different than our physical ones. When someone has a physical wound, a minor cut or scrape let’s say, they can simply put on a bandage and leave it for a few days and their cut will most likely heal on its own. But if we are dealing with a deeper wound, a wound that has hit a vital organ and needs more extensive care, we would not take the risk of ignoring it and neglecting to care for it properly. To nurture that wound, is the only way that lasting healing can occur. I believe we have this at times in the black community. We examine the emotional wounds of the black people as minor scrapes but do not give our emotional wounds the time and attention needed to properly nurture our healing. If we are not taking the time and energy to properly care for ourselves emotionally we take a big risk. Our minds and hearts are constantly infiltrated with negative stereotypes and images that are either overgeneralizations or untrue. While the image of blacks has evolved over the years, our collective societal image still comes up short. If we are somehow deemed as a “good” black, we still do not represent a part of the standard but the “other”.  Because of this, many choose to overcome by striving to prove that they are a qualified equal. While that may be necessary for survival, it is unfair, stress-filled and a constant state of having to ensure that others see you and value you. I believe it’s necessary for us to mourn and make consistent space for Holy Spirit to help us heal individually and collectively.

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AuthorBradford Everett

How could I love what

breaks, beats, batters?

 

I battle a war only I see.

I feel.

I reel.

I weep.

 

I wait.

Shackled in despair

drowning without air.

 

You burn the life line

then say

"hold on."

 

We hold strong.

We make ashes speak,

our blood pounds street

corners.

Church pews

spew Black

Life SCREAMING

I matter with blood spatter.

 

The Blood shed for you,

for Me,

ignites matchless love.

 

You will

never

break WE.

 

Posted
AuthorBradford Everett

From Exodus to Revelation we were on His mind: we as blacks taken from homelands, cultures and traditions and forced to adapt into new lands not as equals, we as Christ followers knowing that once we are in Christ, truly we are a new creation maneuvering this world with uncertainty, and for even us internationals whether by choice, parental guidance or seeking freedom.  He was always thinking about us, about you, about me.

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AuthorBradford Everett

By interacting with and observing my drug-selling neighbors, for example, I’ve learned of their youthful ignorance, but also their fierce desire to raise their children, to be the fathers their own fathers weren’t, and to perhaps provide a different life than the one they themselves were afforded. It’s completely nuanced. I’ve also attended neighborhood association meetings, full of well-intentioned people, who care for their property values and their safety, but have yet to learn to love the people around them that don’t look like them, but are affected by the decisions those in that meeting make. Jesus is the thing that is missing for both.

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AuthorBradford Everett

This time last year I had recently graduated from the University of Tampa and had only been residing in St Petersburg for two months. I was entering a season of transition. The four years I spent at UT were definitely the best time of my life. There were some challenging moments but countless moments of joy. I had a great community of friends who were following Jesus and keeping me accountable. Being on campus, Jesus was teaching me how I could be a bridge, leading students to a life with our Savior for eternity. However, in my senior year Jesus told me this would only be a short-term calling; he was leading me to my long term calling beyond campus. Knowing that, graduating and receiving my Bachelor’s was bittersweet. It was difficult leaving a wonderful part of my life behind. In pursuing God’s call on my life I decided to move to St Petersburg and invest in the Underground church community there. I was feeling hopeful because I knew I would be apart of a group that was missional and loving like my previous community.

After several months of living in St Pete I found myself feeling displaced. I was part of a micro-church but I was not leading any Bible studies. I was volunteering support for Intervarsity but was not discipling anyone. I was participating in the leadership course our movement was providing but I felt that I could not practically apply it anywhere. I did not feel like a leader anymore. I did not feel connected to any group of people. It seemed like I was on the fringe when I desperately wanted to be zealous for the kingdom. I started to wonder why I even moved away in the first place. I no longer was firm in my identity but instead parting away from it. Being a black woman I numerously battled with insecurities fueled by the lies circulating through our society. Transitioning to a new setting and not being the leader I was had me battling again. I even found it difficult to even be sociable. I’m not the most outgoing person, but I had grown in my ability to be social over the past years. Yet during this transition, I was a B plus declining to a D minus.

Realizing that I was in a somber place, I began asking God what to do. “Lord, what am I supposed to do in a place where I don’t feel like my true self?” He replied to me be patient and let me show you; and, like always, God was faithful and revealed to me the work He was doing through me. He reminded me about the leader He created me to be. I’m made to be the leader who serves, intercedes, discerns wisely, evangelizes, and prophesizes. God showed me the unique ways I have been that leader. I learned that the many changes I was experiencing negatively impacted me. The location, people, and culture were different and new; and I wasn’t prepared for it to influence me. During that transition, God renewed me; and once again I embraced the call He had on my life. And when I did that I felt refreshed and zealous. I regained my confidence and could push away the clouds in order  to walk down the  clear path Jesus was and is still leading me through.

I had a moment similar to the disciples. When Jesus was taken and put on the cross, the disciples disbanded and scattered. Their lives drastically changed, they didn’t have Jesus physically beside them anymore. As promised, Jesus came back, and He reminded them about their calling. After Jesus ascended into heaven, the disciples clinged to his words and teachings spreading the good news. Like the disciples I needed that reminder. In transitions, sometimes one asks questions like “Will this work?”, “Am I doing enough?”, and “Am I enough?” I directed those questions to Jesus, and he answered me. In receiving His responses I was revived in my leadership. That entire year looked very different from the last four; it was a year of change, struggle, and rejuvenation. Regardless of the transitions and changes you may endure in life, it does not remove you from holistic leadership you have stepped into. As long as you keep saying yes to Jesus in serving Him and His people in any way, you are and will always be the leader He created you to be.

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AuthorBradford Everett

When I was young, sibling arguments were a common occurrence. We mostly argued and fought with our words.  We never tried to physically harm each other, at least not on purpose, which meant we wouldn’t punch each other or choke one another.  That was more of an unspoken code.  The most physical things got was a push or harmless wrestling.  But I remember one argument to be very different than the norm. I had gotten into a heated disagreement with my younger brother and pushed him as I walked away.  I was halfway down the hall when I heard something zip by my ear and hit our back door with surprising violence.  Turns out my brother had thrown a  D-size battery at my head.  This was a breach of the unspoken code because of the potential of bodily harm.  Normally this would lead to more pushing and shoving and some type of submission hold on my younger, weaker sibling that coerced an apology.  And somewhere in this, feelings would be hurt more, our parents would step in with swift discipline and we would revile each other for it all.  But the beauty of it all was that it usually took no more than a few hours before we began playing with each other again.  And by the next day we were joking about the whole incident.

Moments like this were common among me and my brothers. Moments not as violent but equally violating.  And at the end of it all we were brothers, and we always found our way back to that bond.  No matter what tangent our relationship took we would always return to the root of our relationship. Family.

This fact has been one of the most profound challenges of my Christian walk.  This idea of family.  In Matthew 12 when Jesus was teaching a crowd and was told that his mother and brothers were outside and wanted to talk to him, Jesus looks at his disciples and says, “Here are my mother and my brothers. For whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is my brother and sister and mother.”   Similar language is in Luke 8.  Also if you study Jesus’ interactions with Judas you see him give him many chances to show his allegiance to the messiah and turn away from his plans of betrayal.  The way he engages Judas’ betrayal is as if Jesus considered Judas to be his brother.

I believe being a Christian means we pursue familial bonds and a credible threat to the strength of the Church is the thought of our faith requiring us to be friends not family.  I believe the difference between friends and family is a great chasm that has to addressed.  For instance, a friendship is often optional.  You can choose who you will be close friends with and who you will be distant friends with.  And broken friendships are accepted as normal and not tragic. But family, in contrast, is never really optional, you can never really distance yourself from family bonds, even if you don’t share a relationship you are still family.  And broken families are always tragic.  Family is a lifelong connection that can be mangled but never completely severed.

What if this is what God meant for us to be when we said yes to him? Maybe being adopted into the family of God is a call to truly consider other believers family.  Do you consider your local congregation family?

In the black church this tends to be our disposition.  But our disposition can become fuzzy when we cross ethnic lines.  We are hesitant to submit to God’s call to family because the pathway to family is littered with stereotypes, ethnocentrism, historic spiritual barriers, family affirmed prejudices, and low grade apathy.  It’s time to clear the path so that we and those who come after us can have a clear and inviting path to a family that reflects heaven.  So how do we do this? Here lies the catch.  Your familial connection does not depend on others.  

Those you consider family do not have to consider you family.  In Matthew 12, I am pretty sure it surprised the disciples that Jesus would make his family wait and also, in front of everyone, include them in his family.  I believe it was because Jesus considered them to be equal to His immediate family although the disciples were unaware of this truth and most likely didn’t fully understand what Jesus meant.  Nevertheless, Jesus showed his disciples what he meant by laying down his life for them day in and day out.  Because they were family.  

Jesus’ example is not easy to follow but it is possible.  But we must understand that familial love is established by God.  And we cannot produce on our own, we have to ask for it as we pursue it out of reverence and love for Jesus.  In God we truly have more Mothers and Brothers and Fathers and Sisters than we had outside of a relationship with him.  We just need to fight for them.  This is what families do.  We fight to hold them together.  We fight for each other.

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AuthorBradford Everett

We too have received this forgiveness from God on the cross. So if we agree that we have been forgiven we have to acknowledge that our duty is to forgive others as we have been forgiven.

The diaspora that makes up Black people has been systematically oppressed for more than 400 years. African nationals, Afro-cubans, Haitians, African-Americans, Jamaicans and many more. Still, our present legacy must be forgiveness.

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AuthorBradford Everett

"After experiencing a poorly chosen gesture from a co-worker, instead of being mad, I thought about her and the gesture. I began to think about what her experiences were with those of another race and how the media could have skewed her thoughts towards Black people. Does she have Black friends? What did she learn from her parents about Black people? Does she not know the dynamics of White-Black interactions? Despite the situation and questions swirling around in my mind, I could only think of one thing; Grace."... 

"This isn’t a pass for ignorance or apathy. We know biased structures exist to  physically and socioeconomically separate Black people from the rest of America. But still we rise. We also know our country latches on to popular ideologies such as “colorblindness” which does not address racial and cultural tensions that separate us under the surface."

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AuthorBradford Everett

Before reading, know that this blog post is meant to encourage Black Leadership so the first audience it is written for is Black Leaders and potential Black Leaders.  Although I believe every Christian should wrestle with the assertions made in this post, be warned that there are certain things stated that a non-black Christian may not fully understand.  My hope is that this will lead non-black readers to more discussion and deeper relationship with other Black Christians.  

It seems God won't let me forget that Black Leadership (both male and female) is necessary in my ministry context and in the Church at large.  My context being college ministry in the United States of America.  Answering God's call to build his church in Western culture is tough.  It's no secret that we have race problem in America.  The #BlackLivesMatter movement doesn't mean the problem is new.

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AuthorBradford Everett
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"I wanted to start a conversation about our identity, because that is the very thing that should guide our actions. I want to take us back to the words of Jesus in the beatitudes, where Jesus talks about what he wanted his disciples to look like."

"Mourning is the prevailing and natural response to senseless loss of life, and the injustice around us. We mourn our own sinfulness, and we mourn the sinfulness of our community, and society. We mourn the tragedy, and we mourn our own sense of powerlessness.  One thing that should distinguish us as children of God however, is how we mourn."

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AuthorBradford Everett

"How do we take what we received at the Voice of Legacy conference back to our contexts and take on the nature of a servant.  I want to speak to 3 groups of people as we consider what it looks like to do this.  These groups are those in a traditional church, InterVarsity students, and those who consider themselves part of the Underground community..."

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AuthorBradford Everett

The truth is, I feel like as a society, we’ve been duped into believing that the black family is a fairy tale, a myth, a hoax, as if finding a healthy black family is as monumental as finding bigfoot (which, depending on who you talk to, doesn’t exist). We know the Cosby’s aren’t real, and are at best, a dusty old show from the 80’s relegated to syndication on TV Land or some other channel I don’t get on cable. We’ve been fooled into thinking that the black husband abuses or cheats on his wife and that black father is absent or uninvolved. The image of a strong black woman is one who is driven and successful, doing what she can for her kids, but always as single parent. Keisha and I, however, choose both spiritually and socially to ascribe to a higher standard. We wish for the strong black family to be present, visible and influential. We want it to be the norm, and not the exception.

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AuthorBradford Everett
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"We are called, we have always been called. Image bearers like George Liele, who was an African American and emancipated slave who became the founding pastor of the First African Baptist Church, in Savannah, Georgia. He became the first American missionary, leaving in 1782 for Jamaica; this was ten years before William Carey left England for India, and twenty years before Adoniram Judson left America to Burma."

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AuthorBradford Everett

"When I walk into a room I know immediately that I bring my ethnicity and my diversity as gift. My faith as a Nigerian woman is not for me alone. I am called to serve Jesus and share him with every part of my life."

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AuthorBradford Everett