The summer after my freshman year of college messed up my life. I had it all planned out. My first year of college had been amazing. I’d made a ton of new friends whom I loved spending time with and I had started dating a girl early in the year.
Even though I am Navajo, I didn’t grow up in a household that practiced the traditional ways. I was raised believing in God and going to church every Sunday, but I never took any of it to heart.
My first encounter with racial reconciliation occurred at Duke University. Black students coordinated a sit-in at the administrative building to encourage dialogue around racial issues on campus.
When you hear the word multiethnicity, what comes to mind? Your childhood neighborhood? Your college circle of friends? The ethnic sections of the grocery store?
The month of February is set aside to reflect on the many Black leaders who have shaped United States history, and who are often unjustly skimmed over in our classrooms.
During the summer of 1991, I ate at tables throughout southern China as I helped lead an InterVarsity Christian Fellowship Global Project in China. I was not supposed to be in China that summer.
Would Jesus eat frybread? That was the question 150 Native American students and staff from around the country gathered to discuss November 9–11 in Window Rock, Arizona (the capital of the Navajo nation).
