by Maij Vu Mai
What is religious pluralism to the Survivor? To the one who’s lost faith in themselves? Lost faith in other people? Lost faith in humanity? To the one who’s lost faith in their ability to connect because…
by Miranda Hovemeyer
I’ll be honest. I haven’t felt at home in the field of interfaith work for quite a while. During one of the last interfaith conferences I spoke at, I was asked by an older white gentleman why I was there, then insisting…
by Sable Manson
n the spring of 2020, I was working with my higher education colleagues to prepare for an interfaith retreat set on Catalina Island, off the coast of southern California. We had planned numerous…
by Najeeba Syeed
I’ve written about “casserole” hospitality, an ethic of care demonstrated in America’s Heartland found in communities of various traditions who welcome…
by Bud Heckman
A leader of a well-known nonprofit made a highly unusual public admission. So out of character, in fact, that there was a long awkward pause in the packed meeting room after she said it. A knowing gasp. Her organization works in 30 countries helping people overcome differences of various stripes. So what did she admit?
About seven years ago, I found myself in the rather awkward situation of having to describe advocacy to my Hindu friends. I had just left a consulting job to join the Hindu American Foundation (HAF) as a fulltime staff member. Speaking with Jewish or Christian friends was easy: they generally nodded their heads in understanding when I explained that HAF is an advocacy group for the Hindu American community. But the response from most of my Hindu friends was a blank stare. And my attempts to explain the breadth of HAF’s advocacy efforts – from education and curriculum reform to media outreach to human rights – barely did anything to alleviate their confusion.
