The religion I knew while growing up was about being right(eous), and I believed it was the only way to do religion. It didn't sit well with me at times, but I didn't know there were alternatives. I thought the Good News was that some of us, if we believed (and were very good but it wasn't our goodness that saved us but we still had to be very good), we would be "saved." The only thing that mattered in eternity was how right we were in our beliefs. Putting an end to injustice on earth wasn't as important as convincing people of how certain we were that we were right(eous).

Many of us grew up in environments that we have come to disagree with. We attended churches with people who ate the same food as us, may have looked like us (not this mixed race Asian-American though), and experienced the world as we did. But none of this was enough to conjure a sense of “home.”