What might it mean to bring our buried courage into the light? In Daylighting Courage Creek, Howard Thurman’s image of an “underground river” meets the practice of uncovering streams hidden beneath our cities. A walk along a recovering creek becomes a reflection on the quiet springs of confidence that sustain us through difficult times. It also becomes an invitation: to make room for those springs to surface in our own lives and in one another’s, then join together in the work of justice, mercy, and care for the places we call home. What could flourish if we kept a thousand little springs of action flowing?

What happens when two caged birds encounter one another—each confined by different circumstances, yet each still reaching for freedom? In this reflection, I share the story of meeting Bull City, an unhoused neighbor whose dancing revealed a freedom that his circumstances could not contain. His movement became a mirror. A reminder that cages do not always look the same—and neither does freedom.

History may not repeat itself, but its rhythms often sound familiar. In this reflection, Kendall considers what it means to become “poets of history”—people who recognize the patterns echoing from the past and discern how old harms can reappear beneath new language and forms.

Drawing from the history of Durham’s Hayti community and BLK South’s work in the Grant Street neighborhood, Kendall reflects on the courage required to name these familiar rhythms. He invites us to imagine new ones that can help mend historical wounds and lead us toward more just, healing, and humane ways of living together.