 Please join me for a moment of centering silence, and please remain seated as we sing our in-gathering hymn number 377, which is also printed in the Order of Service. And welcome to First Unitarian Society of Madison. This is a community where curious seekers gather to explore spiritual, ethical and social issues in an accepting and nurturing environment. Unitarian Universalism supports the freedom of consciousness of each individual as together we seek to be a force for good in the world. My name is Joe Kramer. I'm a member of the Board of Trustees, and on behalf of our congregation, I would like to extend a special welcome to visitors. We are a welcoming congregation, so whoever you are and wherever you happen to be on your life journey, we celebrate your presence among us. Newcomers are encouraged to stay for a fellowship time after service and to visit the library, which is directly across from the center doors of this atrium. Bring your drinks and your questions. Members of our staff and lay ministry team will be on hand to welcome you. You could also look for a person holding a teal stone wear coffee mug. These are FUS members who are knowledgeable about our faith community and who would love to visit with you. Typically experienced guys are available to give a tour of our building after each service, so if you would like to learn more about the sustainably designed addition or our national landmark meeting house, please meet near the large glass window on the left side of the auditorium. And we welcome children to stay for the duration of the service. However, because it is difficult for some in attendance to hear in this lively, acoustical environment, our child haven and the commons are excellent places to retire if a child needs to talk or move around. The service can still be seen and heard from those areas. And speaking of noise, this would be a great time to silence our all electronic devices that could cause a disturbance. So I'd like to now acknowledge those individuals who are helping our service to run smoothly. We have Mark Schultz on sound. Our lay minister is Ann Smiley. Our greeters were Hannah Pinkerton and Penny Morey. Our usher is also Ann Smiley. And for hospitality and the coffee that we will be drinking after service, Jean Hills and Trudy Carlson have been making that. Please note the announcements on the red floors insert in your order of service which describe upcoming events at the society and will provide more information about today's activities. In June, we're going to be saying goodbye to Reverend Michael Schuler and in August we will be welcoming a new interim minister. Why are we bringing in an interim minister? What's the process for choosing such a person? What are your hopes, dreams, concerns and questions about the interim period? Members of the interim ministry search task force will be in the commons after services this entire weekend. And we're eager and they're eager to hear from you. You can also read the latest update on the search process in the March newsletter. And I recently heard if you go up to the table and ask a question, there's a piece of candy that you'll be rewarded with, a little bit of an incentive. Also coming up in the next couple of weeks, the Reverend Tandek Deka is going to be meeting with us and within our community is going to be visiting us for about 10 days. So please, look at the opportunities that we have to interact with her. You can register online or find paper forms in the commons. We are going to be closing registration soon, so please, if you're considering doing it, do it soon. Again, welcome. We hope that today's service will stimulate your mind, touch your heart and stir your spirit. Now we have the team choir. For our opening words today, we're going to center together. This is a difficult sermon to deliver, a difficult one maybe to hear. So we're going to stop and take a breath and then another. And I want you to notice three things that you see and name them to yourself. And then take another breath and notice three things that you hear and name them to yourself. And then take another breath and notice three things that you feel. Name them and take a breath. Our words for lighting the chalice today come from Laura Wallace. If you can rise and body your spirit and join me in reciting them, they are found in your order of service. As frozen earth holds the determined seed, this sacred space holds our weariness, our worry, our laughter and our celebration. Let us bring seed and soul into the light of thought, the warmth of community and the hope of love. Let us see together, hear together, love together, let us worship. And before we sing hymn number 108, please turn to your neighbor and exchange a friendly greeting. I'm laughing because I can see my son through the door voting for coffee, although he hates coffee. He's just throwing in beans. There's coffee voting. We're trying out new coffee flavors. So after service today, you can go try out our new coffees. Story for all ages time, young and young at heart, come on up. Today we're reading The Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein. I'm going to ask questions of the kids and give them the mic. So if you do not want your kids to speak in public, do not send them up, I guess, I don't know. Come up with them. Shel Silverstein's The Giving Tree. Okay, you do know this one. Yeah, this is a very popular book. You have it in your house. It's great. You read it yesterday. All right, so this is interesting. This is a book, very controversial. Some people really love this book. I'm actually reading this book because I don't like it. Like I said, some people really love it. Some people don't like it. I really enjoy the pictures. I really enjoy the words, but I don't like the message that it teaches. So I want you to listen today, see if you can figure out what the message of this book might be, and see if you agree with it. Think of reasons people might like this book and think of reasons that people might not like this book. Once there was a tree, the book begins, and she loved a little boy. And every day the boy would come and he would gather her leaves and make them into crowns and play King of the Forest. He would climb up her trunk and swing from her branches and eat apples. And they would go play hide-and-seek. Has anyone ever played hide-and-seek? We had an argument in the last service that says, trees can always see you wherever you go. Maybe if it's eyes are just on one side, then you can hide on the other side and it'll never see you. Yeah, if it can use its leaves to seek like that, if there's branches to seek, then it's going to find you wherever you go, right? Maybe you'll be hiding in your room and a branch will come up and tap you on the shoulder. If you went in the tree, a hollow tree and hid in there, I don't know. Have you ever played hide-and-seek with your brother and then gone inside your brother to hide from him? Weird. Okay. So we had an argument in the first service whether everyone in the world has ever played hide-and-seek. We thought people everywhere in the world have played hide-and-seek. Then what do you think? If you go outside, you're in the tree's room. That actually, it talks about that a little bit actually. All right, so let's keep going. And when he was tired, he would sleep in her shade and the boy loved the tree very much and the tree was happy. But time went by and the boy grew older and the tree was often alone. Then one day the boy came to the tree and the tree said, Come boy, climb up my trunk and swing from my branches and eat apples and play in my shade and be happy. I am too big to climb and play, said the boy. Is anyone here too big to climb and play? Got in that point, you just don't play anymore? I want to buy things, said the boy, and have fun. I want some money. Can you give me some money? Can anyone here give me some money? Donation. I'm sorry, said the tree, but I have no money. I have only leaves and apples. Take my apples boy and sell them in the city. Then you only have money and you will be happy. Does anyone want to be an apple seller when they grow up? Think there's good money in apple selling? I worked at Target. This is a true story. I worked at Target as a produce person and sold lots of apples. It did not pay well. And sell them in the city. Then you will have money and you will be happy. And so the boy climbed up the tree and gathered the apples and carried them away and the tree was happy. And the boy stayed away for a long time and the tree was sad. Can you all be sad trees? Then one day the boy came back and the tree shook with joy and said, come boy, climb up my trunk and swing from my branches and be happy. I am too busy to climb trees, said the boy. I want a house to keep me warm. I want a wife and I want children, so I need a house. Can you give me a house? I have no house, said the tree. The forest is my house. What's a forest? A forest is a whole bunch of trees, a big tree family. That is not a forest, that's a carpet. A forest, it's like a circle. It's just like a bunch of trees altogether. That's a forest. The forest is my house, but you may cut off my branches and build a house. Then you will be happy. I don't know if too many houses are built up with tree branches, but we can imagine. So the boy cut off her branches and carried them away to build his house. And the tree was happy. The boy stayed away for a long time. And when he came back the tree was so happy she could hardly speak. Come boy, she whispered, come and play. I am too old and sad to play, said the boy. I want a boat that will take me far away from here. Can you give me a boat? What do you think happened that makes the boy want to sail away? He was a sad. He wasn't a kid anymore, so he was sad. Cut down my trunk and make me a boat, said the tree. Then you can sail away and be happy. So the boy cut down her trunk and made a boat and sailed away. And the tree was happy, but not really. The boy came back again. I am sorry, boy, said the tree, but I have nothing left to give you. My apples are gone, my teeth are too weak for apples, said the boy. My branches are gone, said the tree. You cannot swing on them. I am too old to swing on branches, said the boy. My trunk is gone, said the tree. You cannot climb. I am too tired to climb, said the boy. I am sorry, said the tree. I wish I could give you something, but I have nothing left. I am just an old stump. I am sorry. I don't need very much now, said the boy, just a quiet place to sit and rest. Well, said the tree, straightening herself up as much as she could. Well, an old stump is good for sitting and resting. Come, boy, sit down and rest, and so they did. And the tree was happy. The end. So now I'm going to ask you why you thought people might like this story. And we're going to ask, this has been a request. We asked that we know that laughing at children's comments is a sign of appreciation, but sometimes it's hard to have your comment laughed at when you make a comment in this. So unless you think the kid is trying to be funny, do not laugh at the comment, even if it's cute. And kids, if people do laugh, it's just because they think it's cute that you have comments. Why would someone like this story? Why do you think? Change your mind, Nico? Why would you like this story? Maybe because it's like a timeline of his life. It does. It shows the whole timeline of the person's life. It's nice to see him grow up and change and develop. Yeah, what do you got, James? Because it's a book. Because it's a book and Unitarians are supposed to like books. Why would someone not like this story? What do you think you could not like about this story? It's like about a tree who gives everything for a guy that doesn't like it very much and never says thank you or anything. That's the message. There you go. Okay. I don't like when the boy cuts down the tree's branches. You don't like it when it cuts down the tree's branches, yeah. Anybody else? Yeah, that's kind of sad. Because all the characters in it die. Because he gets really greedy. Because he cuts down the tree. Two more. Because he wants apples. Because he wants apples, yeah. The tree doesn't want him to love her and him to play on her, but he doesn't and instead he takes everything. So is it nice to give? Do you like giving? Is it a good thing to give? Is it a nice thing to get sometimes and to get gifts? Do you think it's a nice life only to take things? Do you think it's a nice life only to give things? So giving is good, taking is good, but not doing just one or the other is kind of why I think this book is a little bit wrong. All right, before we go to classes, we're going to listen to one more song from the Teen Choir, and then you are free to go. Thanks again to the Teen Choir. We're excited today also to have our friends at the Odyssey Project's return to share with us. Now in its 15th year, the Odyssey Project takes a whole family approach to breaking the cycle of generational poverty through access to education. Today our own James Morgan, an alumni of the program, along with Marisol Gonzalez, who graduated from the program last year, and Shar Braxton, whom you met last weekend, will be reading some of their own works. Please welcome them. So it's still morning. It's good to be home. I'm a member here, but I've been busy working recently, Mary, and I miss you all. So then again, you know, it's a privilege for me to be here. And I'd like to take a moment to thank you for what I know will be your generous contributions to the UW Odyssey program. Again, I'm one of its alumni, and I assure you that the wealth of knowledge, experience and support for every student involved is a life-changing experience. This day I've been asked to speak to you about emotional labor. And it is a term that, up until a few days ago, was very foreign to me. So I want to thank you, T.K., and I don't see our esteemed director here from the Odyssey project, but I'd like to thank Emily Auerbach as well for helping me to put this into some context. But emotional labor, as I have experienced it, has centered on social and community justice issues. For a number of years, I've been working with those in our midst who for all intents and purposes have been invisible. The homeless, the previously incarcerated, single mothers and fathers, looking for employment and other services within our community, who for whatever reason face difficulty in having their needs and the family needs met. I've heard of and witnessed people facing situations and circumstances on a daily basis that I guarantee you are heartbreaking. Many times I myself share those tears and that heartbreak with them. And until just a few weeks ago when I was hired by the Madison Area Urban Ministries, or a mom, being in the midst of other people's crisis was not something that the larger society placed any form of monetary value upon. Truth be told, I don't think the society can or will fully compensate someone who gives time and attention to those persons whose hearts, souls and minds have been damaged by our country's failure to live up to the democratic ideals most of us hold so dearly. Capitalism, at least as I understand it, does not take into consideration emotional impacts and outcomes relative to its individual citizens. Being emotionally present for others means having to know your own capacity to be vulnerable. To have an open ear, a heart and mind when helping others to cope or to learn how to cope with being depressed, angry, hungry, homeless, looked down upon and as I alluded to a few moments ago, invisible. Emotional labor is the cost in its totality for those who for whatever reason find their calling in service to humanity. They ought to be more recognized and compensated for the work and self-sacrifice in the service of those most needed. That is what touched my heart when the concept of emotional labor was given to me. Now, I'm going to have to leave but you all are going to hear a dynamic presentation by TK. I didn't share this earlier but I want to share it now. I'm going to kind of set the foundation for him by simply saying to you all that some of the strongest men in my life have always been women. I'm Shaw Braxton, emotional labor, exhausted and tired. I put you to bed. Earlier I fed you, bathed you and combed your soft tangled hair. You had given me advice and shared World War II pain. Hamburger was only 12 cents a pound and it was day 175 since family members had been around. Friday I picked up my paycheck for $437.22. I looked in your room empty. I ran down to the dining hall empty. I went to the TV room empty. A staff member walked by and said, Mrs. Williams died at 247. Hi, my name is Marisol Gonzalez. Emotional labor. Some people think women are weak. Some people think women can do only certain kind of jobs. Some people think women should stay in the kitchen behind the reception desk, teaching in school, helping others as a nurse, caring for children in a nursery room, or doing all of those so-called easy jobs. Women are capable of doing those jobs and more. We have the ability to do the emotional labor that all of those jobs require. Women care a lot for others. We do those jobs with a sincere smile, a friendly voice, and our best attitude. We have the ability to change the mood of the grumpiest person. When we are cooking with tears streaming from our eyes, and one of our children notices and asks, why are you crying? We hang out into our tats, wipe off our tears, and insert with a big smile. It's the onion's sweet heart that makes me cry, even though the truth is deep in our heart. It's our job to pretend that everything is okay in the world that we live on today. Even when we know it could be much better if we as women were the leaders, if more women were leaders. We will tear down the walls and build bridges. We want to spread families apart just for not having a green card. We will respect the work of all workers with a fur check and health insurance. We will never harass the undocumented immigrants by not letting them drive, work, or study. Instead, we will provide the tools for their success. It's in our shoulders to put out the big show. For getting our worries, desires, and dreams. Wherever we are women, wherever we do, ask mothers, mujeres, and madres. Let's keep up the good work with a big smile and the best attitude to keep running the big show. We are no weak, our jobs are no easy. You can feel lucky for not getting a bill for all of the emotional labor that we documented and undocumented women do for you. Please rise for him 140, hail the glorious Golden City. We're not to sing Blue Boat home to that tune, I guess, but you can't really get going. Weekend. I think we should give women like four or five day weekends for International Women's Week. Do you know why we don't? Because nothing would work. We are not survival of the fittest, but survival of the nurtured. Those are the words of attachment scientist Louise Cosolino that came to me by way of Tara Brock. We are not survival of the fittest, but survival of the nurtured. If you just want to tune out now and just contemplate that for the rest of my sermon, I understand. Of course, survival of the fittest is still true. It's just that fitness for humans most often means those who are part of a nurturing, supportive community. We are raised in community, we succeed in community, and we fail in community. Humans, all humans, even the most sociopathic, have a drive to connect. That's who we are. When Arlie Russell Hochschild wrote the Managed Heart Commercialization of Human Filling, thanks to my wife for telling me how to pronounce her last name, Hochschild, in 1983 she gave new and powerful words, she hates being called wife. My partner gave me those words. Sorry, I'll hear about that later. Hochschild gave new and powerful words to an alarming trend. In the years leading up to the publication of her book, she delved deeply into the lives behind one of the most iconic faces of modern life, the flight attendant. For most of human history, we kept close in tribes and complex networks of interdependence developed. Now globalization has fundamentally distorted our understanding of what constitutes a member of our human family. Building on the work of Russo, Hochschild was intensely interested in how personality had become a form of capital in this post-modern world. A whole set of human behaviors that were once a privately negotiated rule of feeling or display is now set by the company's standard practices division. In her research, Hochschild detailed not just how flight attendants were instructed to behave, to succeed at their jobs, how to smile, how to compromise, how to accommodate. They were actually instructed how to feel. They were taught that to be successful, they had to view the airplane cabin as their living room. And all the passengers is invited and highly valued guests, worthy of all the accommodations of behavior and desire that a good hostess would make. For this work of intentionally managing your own feelings to accommodate for the feelings of others, Hochschild coined the term emotional labor. Any functioning society, Hochschild reminds us, makes effective use of its members emotional labor. We do not think twice about the use of feeling in the theater or in psychotherapy or in forms of group life that we admire. It is when we come to speak of the exploitation of the bottom by the top in any society that we become more morally concerned. But who is it that does the bulk of emotional labor and is thus far more likely to have their emotional labor exploited, both at work and at home? Women. Both men and women do emotion work, writes Hochschild, in private life and at work in all kinds of ways. Men as well as women get into the spirit of the party, try to escape the grip of hopeless love, try to pull themselves out of depression, try to allow grief. But in the whole realm of emotional experience is emotion work as important for men as it is for women. And this is important in the same ways. I believe the answer to both is no. This of course isn't accidental. Men have been exploiting the emotional labor of women as far back as I can remember and read about. But the rapid expansion of both the commercial exploitation of this labor and the global reach of those in the position to most benefit from this exploitation has dramatically increased the immorality of the system. When Hochschild wrote Managed Heart in the 80s, she believed that those for our society most relied on for emotional labor were middle class women. But her continued research into the rapid globalization of the service industry led her to write further texts such as her essay Love and God, Gold. Arguing that women of the global south and the American lower class are increasingly being pulled into or coerced into this system of exploitation as cheaper and cheaper emotional labor is sought. This imbalance has been so great, this imbalance has been great for ensuring profits and privilege but awful for pretty much everything else. Yes, we are survival of the nurtured. Men, especially white, middle and upper class men have made sure that they own the rights to the emotional labor of an increasingly large number of women in an attempt to guarantee their survival and the survival of their privileges. But as the motto for one of my favorite books that I've read this year, Station 11 states, survival is not enough. The cult of masculinity that has developed to perpetuate this system systematically denies men the experience of their own emotions and the value of their vulnerability, not as a byproduct of its worship of power and privilege, but as a direct support to its agenda of commercialization and exploitation of the emotional labor of others. This imbalance is not only deeply unfair to the women at burdens, but also incredibly destructive to the men who never learn how to properly control their emotions or perhaps even more importantly who have never learned how to nurture in a sustained and meaningful way. That nearly every mass shooting is carried out by men is not necessary to prove the brokenness of this system. There is more than sufficient evidence for that conclusion. But it does bring the life and death results of this system into stark relief. Combine that with the knowledge that nearly every teacher that was on strike before their victory in West Virginia was a woman and soon to go on strike in Oklahoma, we see a fantastically shameful example of how the exploitation of emotional labor combined with the cult of masculinity results in great violence and greater suffering. We should do whatever we can, of course, to pass gun control, but until we learn how to appreciate emotional labor and teach it to our young men, violence will not stop. This isn't a problem in unitarian universalism, right? While combating sexism has long been a stated priority of UUs everywhere, progress has been very shaky. And I think the topic of emotional labor helps to really illustrate how a consistent uniform inequality continues to exist within the walls of this church. I know I bring this up in every sermon, but it's my favorite UU talking point, and it's this. I think we can all acknowledge that our denomination has led the way in transforming an organization that was almost exclusively led by men as little as 45 years ago into an organization where the majority of pastors are women. And with the service of Interim Co-President Reverend Sophia Bettencourt and now President Reverend Susan Frederick Gray, we are the only sizable denomination that I could find that has had more than one female president. I would be much more comfortable to be frank if that number were higher than two, and if that 55% of pastors was more like 75%, because I still think we have a lot to learn about truly hearing women's voices and allowing for women to shape these offices away from traditional patriarchal images of leadership. When it comes to the leadership of women, this congregation is no exception. Our members have benefited from the outstanding ministries of Reverend Kelly Crocker, Karen Gustafson, Mary Ann Macklin, Joni Armstrong, Ruth Gibson, Carol Taylor, and Colleen MacDonald, and recently by interns Sarah Goodman, Sasha Ostrom, and Julie Brock. And the executive leadership of Susan Koenig and Monica Nolan, and the board presidency of Susan Eskridge, Kathy Lucker, Vicki Jones, and Pat Anderson. Luca. Luca. Sorry. I'm sorry. While I am sure that each one of these women could tell of many times when their leadership was undermined by the sexism of others, these women have led the charge in a progress towards a more equitable pulpit and administration. When women see, when woman ceases to appear on the stage in the role of the other person, argues Danish social theorist Suzanne Broger, but instead steps aside and says I am, cracks appear in the patriarchal armor. For those who have tried it and not died of it, there is no going back. This is not a zero-sum game. Men are doing just fine in the ministry. But as we've diversified our leadership, our support system remains inexcusably gendered. Part of that gendering is that, as you can read in this month's newsletter, we, one of the largest and most stable UU congregations in the country, have consistently failed to receive enough pledges to compensate our mostly female staff at anything near the UUA recommended guidelines. We are more than $100,000 short of that goal. How we compensate all the caregivers and emotional laborers in our lives merits deep consideration. Our volunteer system isn't doing much better. Go to any social justice meeting in this building. I'm not talking about chalice groups, meditation groups as important as those are. Go to any social justice meeting in this building. You will see it being run and attended primarily by women. Go to our website and on the homepage. You will see three main pictures. One is this atrium auditorium when it is empty, which in its emptiness is perfectly gender-balanced. Is it a masculine auditorium? I'm not going to get into that. You can also see a picture of a full landmark auditorium, which also appears in its fullness to be fairly balanced, probably 60 to 65% female. Then you see our Black Lives Matter weekend action from last year, and there is not a man in sight. Women who are retired, women with jobs, women with kids and without are doing the daily labor that gives this place any right to call itself a social justice congregation. My email inbox is full every day with women sharing, women organizing, women contributing. That's not to say that men aren't also making contributions. They are. Every man that makes coffee, every man that joins the knitting group, every man that plants the details, plants the garden and picks up the compost I salute you. Yes, okay, you're just doing the work that women have been doing forever, but you're doing it when the other men aren't. And that means that you've been thinking and feeling and changing. Now maybe we could find some programs that directly appeal to male interests, to get men to show up more often and get a bowling team together or something. But when we can get men to show up for social justice, at the heart of what it means, at the heart of what it means to be a UU, we need to ask ourselves, is it the programs or is it the men? We are about to enter into a time of stress and growth for our church. My fear for this congregation is that when this gap opens, only women will step up to fill the void, overburdening the already overburdened. I know it might be a hazy line between social, between school violence and showing up for social justice events, but I believe the common connection of fear of vulnerability and disconnection from emotions tie those two together in a direct connection, a connection that must not be ignored. One of the reasons for the hope that is within me on this issue is that it seems like the generation coming up is getting pretty sick of this paradigm. When you look at the students from Parkland organizing, when you go to a Black Lives Matter organizing meeting, you'll see that the gender balances are shifting. Women are in charge, men are supporting. Not all the way, but they are shifting. We have today some very fine students from West High School tabling in in the atrium, in the commons. They're fantastic to talk to. I'm very grateful that they stayed for the second service. Go talk to them, listen to them, see what you can do to support their walk out this week in protest of gun violence. The generation that is coming up is also much more aware of the flexibility inherent in our human-gender spectrum and sexual identities. I know I've had a lot of man and woman talk today, and I think that's partly because I myself am still caught up in the old ways of thinking. It's essential that we recognize how this man versus woman problem exists, partly because we allow so much of our society to be shaped in exactly those terms. According to a recent study by the J. Walter Thompson Innovation Group of 13 to 20-year-olds, less than 50% of them identify as completely heterosexual, as opposed to 65% of my millennials. 56% said that they knew someone that used gender-neutral pronouns compared to 40% of people my age. They, them, Z, or others. And 70% said that they support providing consistent access to gender-neutral restrooms. Now, make no mistake. I take some emotional labor to do the work of living in a world where you can't assume the sexual or gender identities of anyone you meet. I take some emotional labor to work on learning people's preferred pronouns. But it is nothing compared to the emotional labor. It is nothing compared to the emotional labor that we have foisted on queer people who have to go through the world carefully guarding their true selves because they have no idea who they can trust. Any bit of the emotional labor that we can take on in meaningful and informed ways should be a welcome effort for anyone who cares about making this world a more nurturing place. That is why we are going to begin, as was announced in our newsletter, offering pronoun stickers for anyone, no matter their pronouns, if they wish, to put a sticker on their name tag. You'll find them today at the welcoming table after services. This is an increasingly common practice in queer-inclusive spaces, including already a few UU churches. It is a way to allow those who wish to invite others to do a little of the emotional labor of remaking the world to be a more inclusive space to do so. I know that I am not preaching to the choir here. I'm preaching to Amir. I'm not the most emotionally intelligent person around. I'm not usually great at sharing or opening up. One of the reasons I love this job is that it is one of those rare jobs where doing a significant amount of emotional labor is expected of the men that have traditionally filled the post. The only place growing up where I ever saw my dad get emotional or share his emotions was behind a pulpit, when he shared a brief glimpse into his spiritual life. Of course, these types of jobs are always better compensated in prestige and pay than similar posts held by women. But still, as I work here, I find myself often even less emotionally available at home. Shifting childcare burdens onto your partner while you struggle through writing a sermon on emotional labor that could properly be titled in Facebook and books my partner had me read is not going to do great things to your self-image. I can tell you that right now. A woman, a person of color, a queer person could all preach about the experience of having their emotional labor exploited better than I could. And that's one of the reasons why I'm so very glad to have the folks from Odyssey here today. Despite that, here I am preaching. Partly this is because, cynically enough, I believe that as a white man, some people will listen to me preaching better about the subject than they would a woman or a person of color. Now, I am a man. I like being a man. But, and this is the other part of why I'm preaching, I hate, I hate, I hate how masculinity, the cult of masculinity, has stripped us men of so many opportunities to practice emotional labor. Emotional labor is not a negative. In fact, it's quite the opposite. It is that our yin has become incredibly out of balance with our yang. And some people are cutting themselves in half so that some other people can have a boat. That's a reference to the giving trip. I know there are men and women and gender queer folks here today who need all the nurturing they can get just to survive. We welcome you. We bless you in your struggle. We support you. For the rest of us. Balance is the watchword. We are survival of the nurtured, yes. But we are also the thriving of the nurturer. What we have now is one group of people who do almost all of the work of nurturing but not being able to survive because their work is underappreciated and under compensated. And another group who is using all that nurturing to ensure their survival but are failing to thrive because they have never learned how to share anything back. I'm determined in my final months of this internship to help anyone interested in beginning to change the system. To find the resources and the companionship they need on this journey. So shoot me an email. Send me a call. You can tweet at me. I probably won't see it. And let's get this started. I am today with the words of Saljah Patel. Read women, cite women, credit women, teach women, publish women, present women, acknowledge women, award women, amplify women, hire women, support women, promote women, hear women, believe women, follow women, pay women, pay women, pay women. The adults living near the poverty line level are offered in the Odyssey Project a chance to start college for three for free through a six credit two semester evening course in South Madison introducing great works of literature, philosophy and history. Students improve their writing, reading and critical thinking skills, find a voice and obtain a new sense of hope. Graduates of the Odyssey Project have moved from homelessness to master's degrees, from incarceration to meaningful work in the community. Please be generous. You know we have work to do when there's no tissues of the pulpit. We're now going to have a very fine video from our annual campaign folks. Please enjoy. It's very nice. Thank you so much. Thank you. I feel like wherever I wherever I go Lorna would still find some way to be my internship advisor as well. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thanks If you have a deep scar that is a door, if you have an old story that is a door, if you love the sky and the water, so much you can almost not bear it, that is a door. If you yearn for a deeper life, a full life, a nurtured life, that is a door. Go in peace and please enjoy the poster.