“The Scripture for Palm Sunday (Matthew 21:1–11) is filled with symbols—palm branches, cloaks, and shouts of “Hosanna.” Yet at the center of it all is an image that feels almost out of place: a donkey. Not a war horse, not a chariot, not a display of dominance or force, but a donkey. I remember when I was working at Neighborhood Ministries in Phoenix, one of our pastors preached a sermon called Donkey Power, and it stayed with me because it named something I think we struggle to believe in: a kind of power that is humble, that serves, and that accompanies rather than dominates. It raises a question that has lingered with me ever since—why is it so difficult to trust that kind of power?”

Lately, I’ve been sitting with the idea that our well-being is deeply tied to the well-being of our neighborhoods—not just in theory, but in our bodies, our mental health, our dreams. If my neighbors aren’t okay, then I’m not okay. That simple truth has been shaping how I think about our work at BLK South.

The neighborhood isn’t just a space where we do things—it’s the ground from which we live. It invites us into a deeper kind of solidarity, one that isn’t only project-based but life-based. It calls us not only to ask, What do we want to build here? but How do we want to live here—together?