Andrew's blog

This I believe

soldiers huggingIn 2005 I produced a documentary film, Voices in Wartime, that uses poetry to explore the trauma of war, and over the past few years I have spent many hours talking to people about their experience of war. I’ve talked to classrooms full of students, and I’ve hosted community dialogues on war and trauma, and I’ve facilitated audience discussions after screenings of films about war.

James Corder on the Subway in NYC

James CorderIn the summer of 1973, I was the director of the Selma Inter-religious Project in Tuscaloosa, Alabama. The Selma Project was a support organization for civil rights activists working in small towns located in the rural Black Belt across central and southern Alabama, southern Mississippi, and the Florida panhandle. Most of our board members were black Baptist preachers, and I was a skinny 23-year-old white kid in charge of running the project and raising money.  

How I became Pop

When I found that I was about to become a father in 1977, I embraced fatherhood. I read books about babies, mothers and fathers, and I attended a series of Lamaze classes with my wife designed to help me be an active and equal partner in the process. When Chris started having contractions on September 3, 1977, I was there with her throughout the twelve hours of labor.

Billy Graham moves a piano

young Billy GrahamBilly Graham was the skinniest kid Mary Lloys Rice had ever seen, and his hair was glorious. In 1940, Mary Lloys‚Äîmy mom‚Äîplus her five sisters and my grandparents had moved a thousand miles north from Dallas and into their new home in Wheaton, Illinois on West Franklin Street, a big yellow frame house with white

Filth, glorious filth

Exactly one year ago this week I navigated an ancient and nasty alleyway in the heart of the medieval medina of Fez in the country of Morocco in the spring of 2010, and I celebrated filth.The worn cobblestones were smeared with donkey dung and olive oil, dirty rain splashed down into puddles of smelly, viscous mud, and the wares in a hundred tiny storefronts ‚Äì gentian eggplants, berber carpets, and plastic packages of chocolate chip cookies ‚Äì all were smeared with a layer of ash and dust and grime.

Sin, salvation, grace, damnation, repentance, revival, judgment, forgiveness, soul-winning, heaven, hell

The following set of words has the capacity to annoy and intrigue me: sin, salvation, grace, damnation, repentance, revival, judgment, forgiveness, soul-winning, heaven and hell. This is the vocabulary I learned in the church of my youth. These were the signature words for a thousand sermons I heard preached by my Baptist preacher father, my grandfather, and half a dozen uncles whose task it was to save souls and instruct me in how to win more souls for Jesus throughout my own life. The words themselves continue to exert a raw power over my deepest emotions.

Native Son

It is clear almost from the beginning that Bigger Thomas is doomed, trapped in a downward spiral that will lead to arrest, prison, or death, driven by despair, frustration, poverty, and incomprehension.

Flaubert's Parrot

Julian Barnes astounds. Just what sort of book is this, anyway? A literary biography of 19th century French novelist, radical, and intellectual impresario Gustave Flaubert? A meditation on the uses and misuses of language? A novel of obsession, denial, irritation, and underhanded connivery? A thriller complete with disguises, sleuthing, mysterious meetings, and unknowing targets?