Living with Cerebral Palsy and Intersectionality

Pumpkin pie is my favorite birthday dessert in August. I literally had an entire workplace debate over this that I was asked to drop because it got that intense. But, I'm sure I'll be eating leftover pumpkin pie today, assuming I didn't eat it all yesterday. We carry everything with us at work and at home but not all of the things are heavy, some of the things are as sweet as pie. Pumpkin pie for me isn't just about the pie itself, it's about the memories. Every time I eat a piece I think of my grandmother who's not here anymore. Nobody's pumpkin pie is as delicious to me as my grandmother's. Not even my own, based off of her recipe, which is really just the Libby's pumpkin recipe with a little extra nutmeg and cinnamon mix.  I think of my sister who had pumpkin pie on her birthday before I did and I flat out stole it. She's not in the picture anymore either. I think of my aunt who boldly made pumpkin cream cheese bars one year at Tha...

Dear Ministry, I was there, 2005-2019. We had a number of ups and downs together and my Church days are behind me, largely due to the downs. Today, I'm writing to thank you for the very real joys of work that started with the question, can I do that? Few people's ministry resumes include the Salvation Army, the Evangelical Presbyterian Church, the Presbyterian Church of the USA, and the Evangelical Lutheran Church of America, mine did. It's an odd theological map, but I'm not here to talk about that. I'm here for the people I had the privilege to walk beside in the journey of beliefs. Arguably, my greatest joy in ministry happened the night I journeyed through the Harrowing of Hell with the seventh grade Confirmation class in New York. They brought all the questions and it didn't rattle me, I was there for it, as they say. I've never had more fun in ministry work than being intellectually and theologically challenged by middle schoolers over the ...

“In the eye of the beholder, one shall truly see the depth of their own beauty and if it is skin deep” (Eye of the Beholder, Tim Kellogg, 2007).  That's a line from one of my songs off of my first album Of Loss and Love. I'm going to bypass the blatantly Christian undertones for a minute and just point out the depth of what this means for me as a person today and a man with disability.  My physical appearance and movement are the first thing most people see from me unless their introduction is to my writing in cyberspace and that's never stopped me from being appearance conscious about how you might see me. It's also the least of my concerns because I know there's more to life than that. “What's one to do when they lose what they love, when their heart is broken, and there's nothing left?” (Of Loss and Love, Tim Kellogg, 2007).  The thing about my songwriting is that it was usually layered storytelling because I didn't openly share about the stuff I face...

Yep, that's a rattlesnake. No, it's not AI. No, it's not Photoshop. My dad took that picture on a camping trip after walking up on a freaking rattlesnake. My dad literally took pictures of everything, even when it might have been safer not to. What's not in the picture? Myself and all of the other children that were present on the camping trip. Where am I going with this? Fear and safety. Fear and safety have just as much of a role at work as they do at home. Moments like this camping trip are where my threat sensors started to take over.  What do I remember about this camping trip? I remember some poorly roasted marshmallows and kids that were likely way too close to the fire pit – man the eighties were different. And, I remember all the dads going to handle the rattlesnake. I grew up in the mountains, so sometimes that phrase “f*** around and find out” was just a norm. That's kind of what I remember of the dad's going to deal with the rattlesnake. ...

I felt like s***. Poured out my soul and what did I find, the emptying out of everything from within. The goodness, the darkness, the pain and I have to tell you that I just wanted to cry. The first time I did a talk about Cerebral Palsy and Intersectionality, I felt really seen and this last time I felt exposed. Exposed for what I'm not really sure but, it really hurt from the inside out.  I think maybe I got a little close to my wounds and a conversation that I wasn't ready to take public yet. That's okay. Every time I do these kinds of talks it's a feeling out process anyway. I have a plan. I have notes. And, a general guiding direction I don't do scripts because then I would have to read it and that would be difficult. It'll be difficult to see, my nerves would be unstable, and I think it would just impact my delivery altogether.  It's nothing against scripts, I could actually probably write a better speech or segment if I wrote it out in advance. I know...

Home videos are my only recollection of life before my parent's divorce, with one exception, maybe two. “There's a raging fire in the sky tonight” (“Mighty Wings,” Cheap Trick). I don't remember what it was like to be nurtured by my mother. That's how young I was and I'm fairly certain I blocked some things out too. But, I remember a moment of learning it was over between them like a ghost with presence and minimal detail.  “You broke my will, but what a thrill…” (“Great Balls of Fire,” Jerry Lee Lewis). “Risin’ up, back on the street. Did my time took my chances…just a man and his will to survive” (“Eye of the Tiger,” Survivor).  How can a moment I barely remember have such a definitive impact on my life and career? I know the answer to that, but it's pretty mind blowing to think about how much this singular event influenced my entire life.  There have been times that I was grateful it worked out the way it did because the thought of my parents together was jus...