Guest Post: No Room at the Inn, No Place at the Table, Nowhere to call home

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By Melissa Malcolm King

I am left with many mixed emotions following so many recents events that have taken place in the media, within the church walls and in my personal life. I had an awakening of sorts and realized that I have been cast aside many times throughout my life. Like the story of the Christ, I was born with no room at the Inn…cast out, misunderstood and persecuted for being who I am. Like the Savior, I am still determined to fulfill my mission and stand with those who also have no voice. I find myself unwelcome in so many circles that I yearn to call home.

As a Religious, Queer, Disabled, Person of Color there is no table for me. There is no place I can call home. There is no refuge from the storm. There are safe places, good friends and affirming allies. Yet I find that my seat at the table is invisible. I have no voice. No platform. No place where all of me can be heard, seen, and valued. I constantly have to choose to hide part of myself in order to blend in, be approachable and get a sliver of tolerance. The many intersections of my life most often leave me in tangled web of anger, pain, distrust and remorse for the life I wish I could have. For many years, I yearned to be loved for me …all of me … .

I spent a great deal of time trying to bask in the sunlight while missing out on the glorious opportunity of life’s sunsets . For the longest time, I could only focus on waiting for the Sun to rise, dismissing the rest of my life.

I now know that is during the sunsets of our life that we can take a moment for reflection, sacred connection, and like the sun, we can rise again. In the sunsets of my life, I have had the privilege of walking alongside the defeated, lifting up the downtrodden and paving the way for others .

While this is a journey I did not want to take,a path I wish I could avoid and a bitter cup I do not wish to drink, I am honored for the privilege to do so. I came across this clip from the Green Book which describes my journey in a way I couldn’t express before :

After watching this, these thoughts came to mind :

You tell me I am not Black Enough

You tell me I am not Gay Enough

You tell me I am not Disabled Enough

You tell I am I am not Religious Enough

You tell me that I am only meager portion of my many intersections.

You tell me that if I can just cut one piece here and another there, I will earn a place at the table.

Why can’t I be all I am ?

I am not a percent of this or that. I am not broken. I am not photo that needs to be retouched. I am not broken. I am not jigsaw with a few pieces missing. I am not broken.

I am whole. I am here. I am Afro Latinx . I am here. I am Disabled. I am here. I am Religious . I am here. I am Queer. I am here.

I will never be just enough. I am more than your expectation. I am more than your stigma. I am more than your hate. I am more than enough. Simply because I am me. I am not broken. I am HERE.