One of the four friends with whom I authored a book entitled Assessing Students with Poetry Writing Across Content Areas: Humanizing Formative Assessment for Grades 6-12 (Routledge, 2026) reached out earlier this year to see if I would write a short story about the Beatitudes for her Young Adult anthology Temptations of Christians (Roseboro, 2026). Anna Roseboro knows I’m a Preacher’s Kid, and she knows I always welcome invitations to write. She’s a member of the EthicalELA community who frequently reached out to me while my father was dying of cancer to let me know she was thinking of us and praying for us. I appreciate her kindness and remembrance of me during those heavy days.
Of course I would write a story for the anthology!
Fast forward past the writing and publication of the book to the third of the author reading nights.
I normally check my lighting, appearance, and background when going on a Zoom call, particularly if I’m sharing something I have written with a group of people, but Tuesday night’s call had a few bumps and interruptions before I could take a peek at my screen presentation. As part of the book launch, Anna is offering a book study on the Beatitudes stories, and so the authors for Part 3 of the book were postured and ready to read at our scheduled times when she began hearing what she described as an echo. She asked me if I heard two voices, and I replied that I did not. I assumed that Anna was having technical difficulties on her end.
But that wasn’t actually the case. Someone who appeared to be giving technical help started out with directions on settings to change to end the echo, but then began calling her horrible names. Another hideous voice chimed in and took aim at me and at another author there to share the reading of her story as well. The event was hijacked by a group of unknown people who created disturbing and profane outbursts, saying the most awful things to us – things I can’t even repeat. It started to feel like we were under an attack where we didn’t really realize what was happening, and then the reality set in that something that felt terroristic was happening. There was so much hate! I kept a straight face as something inside told me not to show a reaction but to defer to Anna and take the lead from her on what to do. Anna calmly stopped and began praying. She had the composure to end the meeting and send a new link. Rattled but determined to continue the session, each author returned to share our stories, refusing to let hate prevail.
After the evening’s readings concluded, Anna sent a message to us, thanking us for coming back in the face of a scary situation with demonic-sounding voices of those who tried to thwart the good work she is doing.
It was then that I looked back and noticed one tiny spot of humor in the midst of all the horror and fear: I was seated in front of my plant stand by the window, and it looked like I had come to the event with a clownish hairpiece. The good Lord was giving me a reason to laugh, even in the aftermath of those moments that felt targeted and intense. I’d read an excerpt from my story, Blessed are the Kumquat Thieves, looking like I needed a lesson in how not to show up for a book reading on camera.
This verse came to me as I reflected on the evening’s events: “He laughs at fear and is not dismayed; he does not turn back from the sword.” – Job 39:22
leave it to me to
have a Ponytail Palm tree
behind me on Zoom
