[long read] "Mom, Dad, the doctor said I should call you. This is her phone. I'm in a hospital in Guatemala." Four hours later a phone was pressed into my hand. "Chris, oh good, hold on." It was my mother's voice. "Your father is boarding a flight. I just told him we reached you." Twenty years ago I participated in a delegation to El Salvador. In many ways that's where lessons I had started to get exposure caught up with me in full force. A few years before, the global campaigns for justice first pierced my bubble in Seattle during the successful shut-down, sit-in to stop the World Trade Organization. Only two months before the twin towers created a national mnemonic for my generation, I was trying out broken Spanish and freshman microeconomic theory in a meeting with the Mayor of Nueva Trinidad. The community had formed in Honduran-based refugee encampments during the 1980s and maintained its identity, then ten years since the conflict had b
![Leg Squat](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtZ-F9O7t-_UX2TQ_Zy_nF09TjYs3cIaHDDc4E5eFlf92T5sT52iAq6eJoFKQ40b58MvJ-dvo66znHoTAEc21WfNAfUhaCKtCe29iDld2PffkV9RZOvtEADJw6m3Dvu3FB9oag5EGn3Pw/s1600/office.jpg)
Leg Squat blog welcomes you to a growing portfolio of middle school fairytales and young children stories. See the archive for articles related to Prophetic Nuclear Disarmament or Prayer Against Torture. The title is a play on the combined meanings of the prefix Leg- (Latin legere) to gather, choose, pluck, read: lectern, lecture. Squat. -n. The lair of a hare.