The last box was carried into the house. It was stacked with the others making a wall that lined a path to the kitchen. I knew what was inside the boxes. Some had toys and trinkets for the kids. Others had dishes and glassware. Some had books. One...

I immediately picked up the phone to call my best friend, who lived five minutes away from me and was also raising her light-skinned kiddos amongst a world of much darker-skinned friends in this beautiful (and hard) East African community. I had j...

Global workers often wrestle with the concept of being known. As we adapt to a new culture, we find it difficult for our home culture to understand the new us. And yet, our new culture doesn’t truly accept the ways and habits we bring with us from...

One of the hardest things about a new community is suddenly no longer being known. No one knows about your famous chocolate chip cookies or your gift for teaching.