While I am certainly a promoter of community, fellowship and reconciliation, there are things for which I would separate myself, for which I would not want to be counted with the number.  My identity is one of them.  I cherish my being more than my belonging.  And if I had to stand alone, I would so content that I stood up for me.

I think that my disposition concerning the social construct of race is supported by my natural inclination not to seek consensus, to go along with the crowd or to look for nodding heads of agreement.  I have found more often than not that persons would rather follow the thoughts of someone else than to lead in their own minds.  They simply lack the courage, the will or the interest.  I simply can not go along to get along.  I have to agree with me.

Race is wrong for me and my identity.  It’s not a good fit or a perfect match.  We don’t finish each other sentences.  It does not make me feel whole or alive.  Race does make sense of any part of me.

Strangely, race can cause us to turn not only on others but ourselves.  We can and often do pick on the social coloring of our skin and bully ourselves into the corners of society because of something that the social construct of race has suggested about our identity and consequently our ability.

Well, I don’t take too kindly to bullying and I certainly would not knowingly tease or taunt myself.  So, no I am not a victim of race and yes, I have a say in how I am treated, discussed and described.  And I don’t need a ballot or a box to come to the conclusion that I matter.  I only need the agreement of One.

God is the divine Community, the One and Only God.  Father, Son and Spirit came together and saw that humanity, both male and female– regardless of the barriers and boundaries, conditions and restrictions, descriptors and categories that we have amassed– was good. I think that the count is accurate and the majority rules.