Dear Dean Magazine - Issue 6

DEAR DEAN
M A G A Z I N E
S T O R I E S
" L A M I N A T I O N S O N G O D "
B Y M Y R O N J . C L I F T O N
V O L . 6 | J U N E . 2 2 , 2 0 2 2
" A C A S E F O R D E M O C R A C Y
A N D T H E D E M O C R A T I C
P A R T Y " B Y K A R L Y L E I T H
" T H E P O W E R O F A C O M P L I M E N T "
B Y K A T Y A J U L I E T
P l u s !
TOTM
HIT OR MISS
WHAT'S STREAMING
VOICE MEMOS
F E A T U R E D B L O G
N O T A N O B I T U A R Y
OF MY BROTHER MARTY

HELLO FROM MYRON
Our audience is growing and with growth comes more guest contributors and
features. Summer is here and in this issue we explore Pride Month by reflecting on
how far the LGBTQI+ community has come and how far the road remains for
equality. We look back and forward. We cover what it means to believe, not believe,
and to question the meaning of god, forgiveness, healing in a time when American
children are being slaughtered at school and one political party only offers the now
infuriating refrain “Thoughts and Prayers.”
For the first time, the nation celebrates Juneteenth as a national holiday. What was
a quiet holiday celebrated by African-Americans about our ancestors finally
becoming free of enslavement, is now in the American media grinder with
corporations all tackily trying to cash in - of course. Nevertheless, the holiday is
meaningful and many are excited about its recognition.
Take a stop at this month’s What’s Streaming as we look at slooooow burn sciencefiction
because not all sci-fi is about lasers, space, or robots.
Don’t miss HIT/MISS for hot takes on the topics that are hot right now.
Happy Father’s Day, Happy Summer Solstice, and Congrats to all the Graduates!
Myron
June 22!
Please join Dear Dean Publishing in
wishing Myron a very Happy Birthday!

CONTENT
DEAR DEAN FEATURED BLOG
N O T A N O B I T U A R Y
OF MY BROTHER MARTY
page 6
TOTM
Pride Month & More
page 13
A PEEK INSIDE...
A special excerpt from Jamaal's
Incredible Adventures in the
Black Church
GUEST SPOTLIGHTS
Karly Leith and Katya Juliet Lerner
page 19
page 23 & 29
MORE GOODIES
Hit or Miss List, New Podcast "Voice
Memos", Myron's Bookshop & More!
page 25
DEAR DEAN MAGAZINE | p.3

NOW ON SALE
New Release: Jamaal's Incredible
Adventures in the Black Church
Before Jamaal's seventeenth birthday, he’s appointed as his preacher uncle’s
designated driver and unwilling personal confidant. Behind the fine outfits and
hats, behind the delicious cooking, Jamaal is exposed to crazy aunties, sexy church
sisters, corrupt pastors, and predator deacons. A good kid who just wants time to
finish his homework and kiss a girl his own age, Jamaal is dragged through the
strange world of the Black church. You best pray for him.
Order Your Copy Today!
DEAR DEAN MAGAZINE | p.4

NOW ON SALE
New Release: We Couldn't Be Heroes
Short Story Collection: We Couldn't Be Heroes And Other Stories What if a Black
man could control the weather, God called 911, or aliens took our souls? Would
we notice? Would we care?... Enjoy the entire collection, seven stories in all, on
earth and in space and in any order.
Order Your Copy Today!
DEAR DEAN MAGAZINE | p.5

B Y M Y R O N J . C L I F T O N
N O T A N O B I T U A R Y
OF MY BROTHER MARTY
0 6 / 1 1 / 2 0 2 1

M Y R O N J . C L I F T O N
MARTIN “MARTY” JEFFERSON
CLIFTON III DIED FRIDAY, JUNE
11, FOLLOWING AN ACCIDENT
EARLY IN THE MORNING AT A
GAS STATION IN FAIRFIELD,
CALIFORNIA.
Marty is my older brother and the oldest of four other
siblings, and his untimely passing is still a shock to
close and extended family, and his friends around the
country.
This isn’t an obituary for my oldest brother, though,
because Marty didn’t die, he lived.
You see, my brother lived his life. Though he was
named after both his grandfather and father, he
refused to live the lives they lived, and the life they
planned for him to live.
and he lived despite the nonstop pressure from family,
church, and friends to “Lead by example or else you’ll
end up like your father.” Neither of the predictions
came true and Marty continued to live his own life.
Marty was told that going away so far to college was
not good – and that was only when he wanted to
attend San Jose State, a school just an hour south of
Oakland.
He ignored those pressures and after graduating from
San Jose State, he left the state to attend Howard
Divinity School in Washington, D.C.
Oh, he had many of the attributes of his namesakes:
He was a minister like his grandfather and, like his
father, he was gregarious and made friends easily.
But Marty wasn’t them and he was happy about that,
despite pressures from them and other family
members to “Be like your grandfather,” or “Be better
than your father.”
Marty ignored familial, religious, and societal
pressures to define him, his life, and his happiness.
Marty lived by the hour. Fifty-nine years of living
hour-to-hour and Marty wasn’t tired at all. He could
continue living despite body aches from years of living
sofa-to-sofa, sleeping on streets, and behind garbage
bins.
He lived despite being told he was the future pastor of
his grandfather’s church,
For going-away gifts, he was given fear and low
expectations, politely wrapped in concern and tied
neatly with I-told-you-so ribbons. Provincial life
wishes from family would not stop Marty, so he
packed it all up and, taking the last piece of advice our
mother gave him before she passed, took himself to
Washington, D.C. as a graduate student.
In DC, he lived among great biblical scholars and
historical religious institutions, remaining true to
himself and enjoying the biblical explorative debates
and more than holding his own among learned men
and women of different faiths and political
persuasions. They recognized the uniqueness of the
young man who could go toe to toe with biblical
scholars with the deftness and accuracy of someone
with many more years of education, and he proved
their admiration true by being declared Most
Impressive Student Minister during his time among
them.
DEAR DEAN MAGAZINE | p.7

M Y R O N J . C L I F T O N
They loved him because he was always himself and
true to his beliefs.
They loved him.
That was Marty. An everyday man with extraordinary
abilities who was never out of his knowledge class.
Marty lived among giants and gained respect by being
himself, and gained respect for his loving honesty and
gentle kindness that was tinged with intense fealty to
truth above all else.
This is not an obituary.
Some say Marty’s life took a left turn for the worse as
he delved too far into alcohol and too far from God
and religion, resulting in behaviors detrimental to his
health, life, and happiness.
But there’s a funny thing about too many left turns;
they will eventually lead one back to one’s starting
place.
Marty’s literal starting place was Oakland, but his
figurative starting place was in the exploration of
himself, in all his goodness, confusion, anger, and on to
his undefined future.
He loved what he saw and he hated what he saw,
because what he saw were truths many of us never
wish to see, much less confront, but Marty accepted
what truth showed him.
Sometimes salvation is messy. And it is ugly and it is
distasteful to the common person.
But Marty knew that his own salvation needed him to
travel the roads untrodden and the roads with bumps,
unanswered questions, and where real and imagined
danger awaited.
Once, Marty’s road took him early on a Sunday
morning to a bus stop in East Oakland, where he met a
stranger.
It can be said that Marty never actually met a stranger
because everyone would become his friend when he
began talking.
The stranger-who-was-now-not-a-stranger was
stressed and afraid, but never said what he was afraid
of. Marty sensed the man’s discomfort and offered
him comfort through his words. Marty was long out of
the edifices of religion but still carrying the minister’s
calling,
DEAR DEAN MAGAZINE | p.8

M Y R O N J . C L I F T O N
and so he ministered to the young man, comforting
him and letting him know that no matter what he was
going through, and no matter how hopeless life
seemed, death was nothing to fear.
And to embrace it when it comes for you and know that
God welcomes you.
The man had not said he feared death, but he
welcomed Marty’s insight with praise and
thankfulness. The man was relieved, though, and told
Marty so.
The relief lasted only a moment because as soon as the
man’s face and body showed his relief, another man
who was walking by, paused for a split second and shot
the man in the head, killing him instantly, and sending
blood, bones, and brain into Marty’s face and body.
The man then pointed the weapon at Marty’s head,
calmly saying “You saw nothing,” before walking away
and leaving Marty in a state of shock and
understanding.
Marty didn’t die that beautiful Sunday morning. He
was motionless before his Black-man awareness
kicked in, making him realize he had to leave the scene
or else he would be charged with murder or be killed
by the shooter or by the cops.
He walked in the opposite direction of the shooter.
Marty lived then.
But a few months ago, Marty died. You read that
correctly.
Marty died a few months ago.
He had fallen asleep outside and due to outside
overnight temperatures and his age, he died from
exposure. First responders were called, and they were
able to revive Marty and transport him to the hospital.
Due to the Covid-19 pandemic, we could not visit him
but his doctor had him on intravenous fluids and said,
“I hope your brother Marty makes it through the night,
but at the moment, I can’t say that he will. At best I
give him a 50–50 chance.”
What the doctor did not know is that a fifty-percent
chance is more than many of us ever receive in this
country.
My other brother Mark and I kept watch on Marty
from afar and waited for night to pass because we
have been trained since we were infants to know: Joy
comes in the morning and that, yes, we are our
brother’s keepers.
Marty woke up the next morning; joy had indeed
come.
We talked on the phone and I told him that he had
literally died and that he had gone on to his next
adventure.
Marty’s response was typically enlightening, silly,
concerning, interesting, and filled with deeper
meanings.
Oh, he and we laughed. And then quietly and with
meaningful awareness, he softly asked/stated:
“I did? I did, didn’t I?”
“Yes, you did, Doc.” I replied, smiling and ready to
tease him, as brothers do.
“You’re just like Jesus, except you came back in only
one day. You can finally start your own religion, Big
Bro.”
DEAR DEAN MAGAZINE | p.9

M Y R O N J . C L I F T O N
Marty enjoyed our silly banter. His voice was stronger
toward the end of the call, his humor and mind intact,
and he said of my brother Mark and me: “You are more
faithful than Jesus’ disciples who didn’t believe he had
risen until Mary told them. And that Mary wasn’t his
mother, she was…” The divinity school scholar had
risen from the dead, too.
“Okay, preacher, you need to rest. No sermons right
now, Doc.” I said to him, now the big brother in the
relationship.
He laughed again, this time with more vocal power,
and with the confidence of someone who had risen
from the dead, I guess.
That was the last conversation Marty and I had
because when I next called, early the next morning,
the doctor was called to Marty’s room and was handed
the phone to speak with me.
“I am sorry to say that sometime overnight when we
weren’t looking, your brother Marty got up and
walked out of here.”
I thanked the doctor for his work and ended our call.
Marty was alive again and he had decided to walk into
life again, however momentarily.
“What kind of life did he walk back to?”
“He should have lived differently.”
And he was okay with that, too.
Marty checks off a lot of boxes for life’s difficulties:
First born with highest expectations; an extremely
religious upbringing; family history of alcohol and drug
abuse; and trauma from violence he witnessed as a
young kid and as an adult.
Marty also checks the box that far too many Black
people – Black men specifically – need to check and
address more often: Mental illness.
Alcoholism and drug addiction are diseases and far
better understood in our community relative to
mental illness. Neither are due to a failure to pray or
failure to change. They are not easy to quit and they
are not reflective of a lack of willpower.
And mental illness comes in many forms, from
depression and anxiety, to bipolar and post-traumatic
stress (PTSD), and on to schizophrenia.
All of these affect Black folk just like they affect
everyone else, and there are treatments – clinical,
theraputic, medicinal – that can and do help. But
medicine that isn’t taken is medicine that can’t help.
And mental illness left untreated is dangerous.
The diagnoses, the treatments, and the act of
normalizing mental illness is important to our
community because we are not exempt from mental
illness. But we seem to have more stigma associated
with mental illness. Stigma and shame are enemies of
treatment and healing. Our community must
normalize asking for help and getting help from those
best trained and schooled on treating mental illnesses.
“He should have cared for himself differently.”
Marty knew the importance of treating mental illness
but not until later in life when he was already selfmedicating
in harmful ways. If I had a wish, I would
All the admonishments are from a place of genuine
love and concern, from family and friends alike. And
only wish that Marty was and everyone else are
Marty knew and appreciated the care, love, concern,
treated at the first symptoms of mental illness, that
and gentle and not-so-gentle suggestions that never
they are comfortable talking about mental illness with
stopped being offered to him.
DEAR DEAN MAGAZINE | p.11

M Y R O N J . C L I F T O N
loved ones and professionals, and that he hadn’t been
and no one else is ever shamed for having a mental
illness.
Marty is no longer with us, having died in a traffic
accident early in the morning at his favorite gas
station, where he sometimes washed windows
because he wanted everyone to be able to see clearly.
If there’s anything I learned from Marty and the life he
led, it was that Marty always saw clearly.
Marty may have passed from this life a little too soon
for us, but I am certain that he left right when he
needed to and when things were at their clearest for
him.
This is not an obituary for my brother Marty.
Consider it a “so long” until we meet again.
When we do, I am certain he will joke about his
beloved Minnesota Vikings, and he will want updates
on our family, especially our siblings, but also his
nieces and nephews. Hopefully my mom will be with
him, reunited with her firstborn, and telling him she
does not want to hear about the Vikings again.
And I am going to tease him even more about how
somehow, someway, he was able to die, come back,
and then leave again, like he was Jesus.
He will like that.
Marty lived.
And, finally, we know Marty loved his friends. He
never lost faith in his friends or his family, even when
and if some lost faith in him because he chose
differently.
Like Marty, we are more than the sum of our errors,
and we have more depth than what we can see in each
other.
Marty helped anyone who asked, though most times
all he had was advice, counseling, and positive words
of affirmation, even in the darkest nights on the
darkest street corners, because that is where light is
needed most.
Marty gave and accepted what came his way. And he
did so not with malice or a fatal acceptance of
disappointment or underachievement.
Marty accepted what came to him because he lived
the life he chose, and he did it with joyful acceptance
and lovely self-awareness.
Marty lived.
© 2021 by Myron J. Clifton. All Rights Reserved.
This blog was originally posted on June 25, 2021
on www.deardeaan.com
DEAR DEAN MAGAZINE | p.12

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TOTM
I lived and worked in San Francisco in the
1980's just as we were finding out about
Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome -
AIDS.
Many folk knew there was a medical issue affecting
gay men before the local and national news picked up
the stories. We were in our late teens and early
twenties, and many coworkers talked of friends and
partners becoming sick and not knowing what it was
they had. Some thought a bad flu and other *known"
viruses and diseases.
What we did know was that whatever it was it was
becoming more common.
I worked in a call center and as call center folk know,
there's a lot of young workers having sex with and
among each other. And in those days in San Francisco
bathhouses were very common sex hook-up places for
folk - gay and not gay.
So like many businesses we also began seeing
coworkers get sick. While the outside world began
panicking, there were already support groups popping
up among the gay community to offer support, food
and medicine drop-offs, and partner support for those
who lost partners, family, and friends.
It was a horrible time watching folk trying to get
people to notice that people were becoming sick /
dying. But though a few companies provided time,
most did not and many folk lost jobs and benefits
when they most needed them.
DEAR DEAN MAGAZINE | p.13

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TOTM
All the other insults started then, too:
The gay lifestyle ...
God's punishment and judgement...
Insurance shouldn't cover "them" ...
And of course, there was a racial component, then and
now, as the disease devastated Black gay men more
than any other demographic. And whereas the Black
church was "thee" place for Black folk to get support,
Black gay men were shunned, ridiculed, cast out,
blamed and shamed, leading to another layer of pain.
At work, we'd return from off days and do an inventory
to see if anyone was missing. There was always
someone missing.
We lost so many people in the community, at work,
and overall, that it was shocking. But not shocking
enough to prevent some cities and States from
implementing laws that prevented even counting
deaths from AIDS.
Americans, like now, spread misinformation about
toilets, touching and even breathing around gay
people. The gay-scare-panic hit levels beyond
absurdity.
There were lights in the darkness, though, as people
created support groups, hospital visit groups, food,
and supply groups and slowly, slowly, forced the issue
into the national consciousness of empathy.
During the peak AIDS deaths, we lost a few men per
month to AIDS and aids-related deaths. Some in the
closet men would not admit they had aids. Some
surviving family members refused have AIDS listed as
cause of death.
It took tens of thousands of deaths, children dying
from AIDS, celebrities dying from AIDS, and the
medical establishment to get past their biases and
contribute to factual conversations, solutions,
behaviors, and medicine.
Surviving partners, were first prevented from visiting
loved ones in the hospital, refused a say in stopping
treatment, then further alienated by the families of
their deceased loved one.
My friend's partner passed and though the family had
accepted him as long-term partner (15 years) to their
son, upon their son's death from AIDS, they locked my
friend out of all finances, the home, and from attending
the funeral, which they held in Maryland though their
son and my friend had lived in Oakland for 25 years.
DEAR DEAN MAGAZINE | p.14

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TOTM
Fighting through the muck took years - decades. And
there's still work to do. And there are great people
doing the work.
There's still acceptance that needs to happen,
particularly but not exclusively within the religious
and medical communities. And there's understanding
that has to happen to stem the same old tired
homophobia and transphobia we see today at work,
schools, sports, politics, and the media.
The lessons are there to learn and instruct us.
This isn't a history of the crises, of course. Just some of
my own recollections of a time that was tragic for so
many for and a time that should not be forgotten.
June is Pride month and memories of those we lost are
also part of Pride.
Thinking today about my friends lost and those who
survive.
Loving Myron J. Clifton's Content?
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DEAR DEAN MAGAZINE | p.15

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DEAR DEAN MAGAZINE | p.16

M Y R O N J . C L I F T O N
"Laminations on god"
Someone asked if I believe in god. I don’t know
and I don’t know if I ever will. Like many I grew
up going to church -Pentecostal- 7 days a
week. I have a family w/many preachers and
church leaders. I question things and in
moments when I may think there’s a god I get
angry.
Angry at loss of my mom from cancer and my brother
from being run over. I get angry about the abuse I
survived by my birth father. I get angry about mass
murders, white supremacy, unequal unfair lives here
and everywhere. I get angry at allowing “churches” to
abuse, fundraise
and how white Christians hate Black Christians &
have abused Black Christians for hundreds of years
and god is missing.
Then I see a flower. I see space. I see dogs and cats. I
see little kids running or being bad or being messy
and I smile. I see an ocean, rain, dirt, weeds, horses.
I saw a blue jay land on my porch. I listened to Stevie
Wonder sing about a ribbon in the sky while he’s
never seen either.
I read poetry by Amanda Gorman, watched national
parks narrated by former President Obama, and
heard Nancy Wilson sing.
I thought about my daughter and her wild curls, quick
laugh, and smart mouth. I ate some grapes. I watched
an African lady explain African accents and
languages. I touched a tree.
DEAR DEAN MAGAZINE | p.17
(continue, next page)

M Y R O N J . C L I F T O N
I saw a sculpture outside a Mexican museum that is
eagle wings made of guns the cartels used that were
purchased in America. I took medicine.
I don’t know. But I’ve questioned myself and my
beliefs in my writing.
"Laminations on god"
If there’s a god they are cruel, as is their prerogative I
guess. And if I am a child of god then I get to act like it.
I can be mad, irrational, illogical, snarky, indifferent, all
of the above because they made me like this- apple
don’t fall far from the tree.
My first book is a mythology about The Goddess, and
it remains my best selling. I wrote a short story about
aliens who collect souls from earth, and no one is the
wiser.
I wrote a short story that wonders what humanity
would do if god asked them for help.
If there’s a god then they’ve been on vacation long
enough, watched evil prosper long enough, and allowed
too many to suffer the world over.
We’re suffering and suffocating, and my beliefs don’t
matter to the sick, hungry, homeless, addicted, abused,
jailed, bombed.
I wrote a whole novel that is a coming-of-age story
about 17-year-old Jamaal as he grows up in and
navigates the black church.
If there’s a god they can certainly take criticism that
they’re doing a poor job. Their messaging is all messed
up and it is very ineffective.
I question.
And if I’m made in god’s image then my questioning
and anger at them is from them.
I use “them” purposely. God must be them but
presume because men are too dumb to be god over
anything or anyone and 10k years of murderous
history proves it in my humble opinion.
The loudest voices for god are some of the worst
human’s god created. Truly, god needs to do and say
more, and the “messengers” say less.
I don’t know if there’s a god. Or Goddess. But if there’s
either/or, I wish they’d do something to help.
I don’t know. I don’t think anyone knows. I understand
the whole belief by faith, but nobody knows; they feel.
And that’s okay.
My grandmother used to wake up early Sunday and
start banging church songs on her piano. Drove us
crazy. How I wish I could hear her play now. Is she
playing piano in heaven?
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DEAR DEAN MAGAZINE | p.17

H E R L E G E N D L I V E S I N Y O U
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take in, you can’t just read it once to
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Her Legend Lives In You:
The Untold Creation Story Honoring The
Goddess And Our Daughters.
Available on

Pride month excerpt from Jamaal's
Incredible Adventures in the Black Church
M Y R O N J . C L I F T O N
“Mind if I sit here?” He was a bit older than Jamaal,
very handsome, and his suit was tight and fitted.
“Yeah. That’s fine.” Jamaal answered, absently
scooting his chair over a bit, then moving his drink
closer to his plate, which was quickly emptying.
He also dove into his plate just like Jamaal had a few
moments earlier. They ate and at first didn’t speak
much beyond a few grunts to indicate how good the
food was. But soon the young man started asking
Jamaal questions about himself.
“You a preacher’s son? I’m Craig. What church you go
to? You like it here?” Craig asked the questions
without looking up and while continuing to eat.
loves you. God don’t like ugly and most of those folks
who are putting us in hell are sinners, too. I ain’t got
time for their b.s. Excuse my Black-French.”
“You’re funny.” Jamaal finally got another word in.
“And you’re cute. The girls and boys will like you.
What’s your name? Who do you like, girls or boys?”
“Girls,” Jamaal answered.
“I thought so. But don’t knock it until you try it,
sweetie.”
“Okay,” Jamaal answered but wasn’t sure that was the
right answer.
“Uhm, well—” Jamaal tried answering but Craig kept
talking.
“This is a nice church. I just started going here. You
been here before? You like Pastor Meers? I like her.
She gets things. Gets me. And my friends. What do
you think about women preachers? You ever hear a
choir like that? My… friend was the lead singer of the
second song. Julian is his name. The cute one up
there, you couldn’t miss him.”
“Oh. Okay. I’ll look next time. The songs were good,
yeah.” Jamaal spoke quickly, before Craig began
talking again.
“I’m queer if you can’t tell. Gay. Homosexual. Fag.
Whatever. I still love God and God loves me. Don’t let
church folks put you in hell for who you love or who
DEAR DEAN MAGAZINE | p.19

Pride month excerpt from Jamaal's
Incredible Adventures in the Black Church
M Y R O N J . C L I F T O N
“Now you’re funny. What’s your name even? I’m just
running my mouth and I don’t even know who I’m
talking to.”
“Jamaal.”
“Cute. Jamaal. I like it.”
“Me too. How long have you been with your…
partner?” Jamaal asked, genuinely interested because
he had, up to this point, never had a long
conversation, to his awareness, with a gay person
who was just a little older than himself.
“Three years. I love him and he loves me. Our families
support us—it was rough for a while but now they do.
It’s a blessing that many of our friends don’t have. I
got kicked out of my church, though. Kicked out and
told I was ‘damned to hell.’ Oh well. If this church is
hell, then I’m staying!” Craig said and they both
laughed.
“Can I ask you a personal question, Craig…. About
being gay, I mean. I’ve never talked to a person my
age who is gay.”
“I’m older than you, honey, but thank you for the
compliment. You probably have and just didn’t know,
but that is neither here nor there. Yes, ask away.”
“How long have you been gay?” Jamaal wasn’t certain
he asked his question correctly, but he thought Craig
would let him know if he got it wrong. Then he would
apologize and try again.
“I was born me. And I’m gay. I have always been gay, is
what I am saying. I was born me, born gay, day one,
minute one. So, God made me this way and I accept it.”
“Okay. Sorry. When did you know you were gay?”
Jamaal hoped his new question was better phrased.
“I think I’ve always known but I didn’t always know the
words and language, sorta of how you are struggling
now with your words. I knew the hateful language of
my church—St. Anthony’s Church. Catholics, ugh.”
“When did you tell your parents? Was it like TV and the
movies with the big reveal and coming out moment?”
“Ha! You’re funny. Too cute for your own good. Are you
going to eat that drumstick?” Craig said all at once
before drinking his red drink.
“You know what you see on TV and the movies? You
see white boy stories. You don’t see our stories. So,
forget that stuff, okay? That ain’t it for us. It just ain’t.
Good for them white boys and their after school special
versions of coming out.” Craig was opening a moist
toilette, once he did, he began wiping his hands.
“Sorry if I sound stupid.”
“Ask. You don’t sound stupid at all. Most people our
age assume and all they know are homophobic tropes,
so I don’t mind you asking at all.”
“How did you do it? Sorry I am asking so many
questions.” Jamaal genuinely was curious and hoped he
wasn’t offending Craig.
DEAR DEAN MAGAZINE | p.20

Pride month excerpt from Jamaal's
Incredible Adventures in the Black Church
M Y R O N J . C L I F T O N
“I came out to my priest when I was ten years old.
That’s what I had been taught to do; talk to my priest.
So, that’s what I did.”
“Yeah, that is what I mean, was trying to say, I guess.”
“I know you were. Eat your cake, or those church
mothers over there staring at us will have a few words.”
“Oh, okay. Did the priest tell your parents then or
help you tell your parents?”
“Yes and no.”
Craig placed a chunk of yellow cake in his mouth.
Jamaal watched Craig eat, before finishing his own red
cake.
“So, he did tell them, or he didn’t tell them?” Jamaal
tried to clarify.
“Your priest was kind, then?” Jamaal asked, getting back
to his earlier question.
“Why you want to know so much about the gays. You
curious, Mr. Cutie?”
“I don’t know. I just want to know, and you seem nice
and so…” Jamaal’s voice trailed off before he caught
himself. “It’s just that in church the preachers are
always talking about gay people going to hell and…my
uncle is a pastor….”
“Pastor Gerald, right?” Craig interjected.
“Yeah. That’s him. So, I get to hear what preachers say
when they are not in church and… I just, uh, uhm.”
“Those preachers can be just as gay as anyone else,
huh? They are no different than the preachers who
whore around while preaching against pre-marital sex,
adultery, and all that. They do it too. We all know.
Gay is just easy for all the preachers to rally around
and hate. It really is a problem in all communities, but
especially ours because we are all we have and what
sense does it make to ostracize our own?”
DEAR DEAN MAGAZINE | p.21

VOICE MEMOS REVIEWS
Listen Now!
Stay
Shallow!
Like listening to your BFFs
June 2, 2022
kjlerner

D E A R D E A N
GUEST SPOTLIGHT
A Case for Democracy and the
Democratic Party
W R I T T E N B Y
Karly Leith
So this term of culture wars.
This isn’t a “culture war."
Where the token Black and PoC are paraded as the
example of “One of the good ones”. It’s a propaganda
campaign since the days of Reconstruction.
This is about a specific party and those who support
them-so called Americans-feel about those they
consider less than. These cosplay-patriots aren’t
fighting a “culture war."
This myth that with hard work you can achieve your
goals is the American dream that is based on the
nightmare of the lived experiences of enslaved Black
and indigenous people.
What they want is the ERASURE of anyone not
white-male-cis/cis.
Other white people are welcome so long as they
continue to uphold the white-cis-male centered
patriarchy. For those who say “oh but there are Black
people and PoC who support and feel as they do”
White supremacy and white adjacency is a helluva
drug.
A nation created by and for the benefit of white-cismale
landowners has proceeded to do the bare
minimum to even pretend to care about anyone
outside of that category. When we speak of women
getting the right to vote-that was for initially only for
white women. White women who historically have
abetted their land-owning husbands and have
benefitted from the system crafted for their sons.
This is what I call the colonized mind. For generations
this country has made it abundantly clear that “white
is right” by way of media, policing, legislation, our
public education system.
Generations of people have been conditioned to
believe the lie of assimilation equating to success and
more so their SAFETY amongst the white community.
This is where respectability politics comes into play.
DEAR DEAN MAGAZINE | p.23

K A R L Y L E I T H
The same suffragettes who would make no space for
Black women within their ranks, and the same white
women who founded the daughters of the
confederacy and whose grammas, aunts, and mothers
owned humans.
When we see the term “culture war” it is once again a
way of lessening what is actually happening right now
in real time.
A literal white washing of the truth.
It isn’t a “culture war."
What these deplorable so-called Americans want is a
return to Jim Crow if not earlier.
They want to push our LGBTQ+ citizens back into the
closet.
They want women to once again be tethered to a man
because she is legally unable to own property or have
her own money.
They want more children indoctrinated not educated.
The GOP is an evil organization on a scorched earth
campaign hell bent on taking us back to the days where
Black people were counted as 3/5ths human.
Only one party is fighting against gerrymandering,
fighting for the LGBTQ+ community, only one party is
fighting for the John Lewis voting rights act.
Only one party is fighting for bodily autonomy, fighting
for justice in policing, and for gun reform.
This isn’t a “culture war."
This is between good and evil. Simple as that.
Only one party is trying to save our democracy, flawed
as it may be, so that it can live another day to continue
the work towards a more perfect Union.
There is nothing of value or worth that can come So no this isn’t a “culture war”. It is a battle of good and
from the further marginalization of entire evil.
communities. That is pure evil. There is no good to be
had in stripping women of their rights. There is no Don’t allow this horror to be labeled simply as a culture
good to be had with limiting access to the polls and war. It’s much more than that.
gerrymandering. And certainly there is no good to be
seen when we overlook the poor, the sick, the This is life and death.
disabled, the chronically ill, our homeless, our elderly,
and our veterans.
DEAR DEAN MAGAZINE | p.24

MYRON'S
HIT OR MISS
You will either LOVE or HATE being on
this list. It's time to call out the good,
bad and the ugly as it happened on
Twitter. We saw it live with our own
eyes, and now it's time to review the
best and the worst... saddle up!
list
HIT
The Golden State/Oakland/San Francisco Warriors win another
NBA Championship. Led by one of the all-time great players, best
shooter of all time, and all-around good guy, Steph Curry, the
Warriors current dynasty won their fourth title in 8 years. The
team, coached by the great Steve Kerr, fought back from injuries
to Klay Thompson over the past two years, to regroup the Big 3 –
Curry, Klay, and Draymond Green proving again that a drafting is
the way to go.
DEAR DEAN MAGAZINE | p.25

MISS
Every police officer and law enforcement officer in
the shocked city of Uvalde, Texas. They missed the
memo that cops are supposed to PROTECT and
serve. Instead, they stood by and waited while a
mass-murderer slaughtered children and teachers.
Twenty-one people died – including 19 2nd-4th
graders – in what is, cruelly and sadly, just another
massacre in the world’s capital of massacres.
MISS
Kim Kardashian tweeting an endorsement for a guy
who is against abortion, is a billionaire developer
who has never built low or moderate priced homes,
and who all of a sudden decides to switch political
parties to take over L.A. with promises of a utopia.
HIT
The Uvalde mother who heard about the event
at the school, drove forty miles, was stopped
and handcuffed, begged the cops to release her
and, when they did, she snuck over a fence,
entered the school, and safely retrieved her two
kids.
HIT
Karen Bass, long time representative is running for
and should be who Angelenos vote for. An actual
local, a democrat, and someone who has a track
record of helping real everyday people, and not
puffed-up culture thieves like Kim and her ilk.
MISS
Mass shootings in Buffalo, Uvalde, Tulsa, Orange
County, at Xavier college.. and soon coming to a
city, school, office, church, hospital, mall,
freeway, neighborhood…. Near you.
HIT
Rep Bennie Thompson overseeing the
congressional hearings on the January 6th
insurrection is running a well organized,
deliberate, and efficient hearing that is riveting
and showing the nation just how corrupt the last
administration was.
MISS
30 gubernatorial candidates in California who
stood absolutely no chance against popular
effective Governor Gavin Newsom
DEAR DEAN MAGAZINE | p.26

MY FAVORITE THINGS
STREAMING RIGHT NOW...
Streaming – Slow Burn sci-fi-dramas
Like a little drama to go with your science-fiction/fantasy? Like few special effects and more dialogue?
Then check out these sloooow-burn shows/movies streaming near you.
Prime – Night Sky Season 1.
A senior couple hide a secret on their farm, and it is
one that is simple: an underground storage basement
that has a spectacular view of the night sky. The
question is though, what night sky are they looking at?
This newer series deals with the fear of losing a longlasting
love, aging with grace, and the will to belong.
Prime – Outer Range Season 1
A pair of ranching families have a longstanding dispute
about a piece of land on the outer range between their
properties. The two patriarch’s hate but respect one
another. The same cannot be said for their sons and
daughters who, let’s just say, have beef between and
among themselves. And something on that outer range
land is pulling both families to the literal abyss.
Hulu – Aniara – Movie.
In the future space tourism is a thing and on a routine
tourist trip to Mars, the Aniara ship – with about 500
passengers, has to avoid an unexpected comet. But in
doing so, the ship is forced off course and are unable
to correct their course or slow the ship. The trip turns
into a look at human behavior in the face of the
vastness of space.
Apple+ Foundation – Season 1
The long-awaited adaptation to the science fiction
books that started them all. A sprawling space and
planetary series spanning thousands of years, with
many characters, story arcs, and incredible settings,
this series is a must-see for anyone who loves the
genre. It doesn’t pander or apologize for its complexity
so put your phone/tablet down and pay attention! The
payoff – all of them – are worth it and then some!
DEAR DEAN MAGAZINE | p.27

M Y F A V O R I T E T H I N G S
S T R E A M I N G R I G H T N O W . . .
Netflix – The Dark Crystal Season
1/only season
The masterful remake of the beloved movie, this series
can easily be mistaken for a children’s series – and it
works for pre-teens and up – but it is absolutely made
for adults even though it has almost no violence (all of
it when Jim Henson puppets so it is very tame). But
the themes cover family, family trust, trying to get and
hold onto power, loyalty, environmentalism, duty, and
responsibility. The pace is perfect, the story arcs bold
and at times surprising, and the payoffs are all.. chef’s
kiss.
Shinning Girls Apple+ Season 1
A trippy, slow, and definitely burning series with
Elizabeth Moss in another role where she uses al the
dark make-up under her eyes because she is as
confused as you will be watching this. Stay with it
because, Moss brings it all together with a stellar cast
that includes Phillipa Soo, Chris Chalk, and Amy
Brenneman. It is hard to follow and that is done on
purpose so stick with it and don’t enjoy the confusion
and conclusion.
What are you streaming right now?
Let me know!

D E A R D E A N
GUEST SPOTLIGHT
The Power of a Compliment
W R I T T E N B Y
Katya Juliet Lerner
Compliment people! Magnify their strengths!
“That color looks amazing on you!”
Every day we have a fresh opportunity to build other
people up. We have opportunities all around us to
help someone identify a new level of confidence
within themselves by simply complimenting them on a
skill or behavior.
“You have such a great sense of humor!”
“What a cool bag, what a great sense of style!”
“I really admire your hard work, it stands out!”
So why don’t we do it more often? Probably because
we are busy, focusing on our own needs and
responsibilities. But also, perhaps, because we don’t
realize how powerful a simple compliment really is.
“Good job doing (abc), you’re really good at it!”
“I love that post / picture / Article you shared the other day,
good choice!”
Common in therapy and communication exercises,
couples are asked to compliment one another, by
sharing something they like about the other or
something the other person does. This exercise often
leaves even the kindest minds blank, as we are not
accustomed to focusing on praising other people as
much as we are used to judging or criticizing them.
“I love your confidence, it really shines through in your
work!”
Your compliment could mean the difference between
that person having a good or bad day, or even help
But compliments are much easier to come up with
than we think. It just takes a little practice.
There is a l w a y s something that can be said as a
compliment to any person on any given day, and I
urge you to test this out. For one day, make it a goal
to give one compliment to every single person you
come into contact with. It could be anything...
DEAR DEAN MAGAZINE | p.29

K A T Y A J U L I E T L E R N E R
that person to recognize a strength for the very first
time that they can now own and recognize internally
because of your calling attention to it. Compliments
and random acts of kindness can change people’s
lives – and often when a successful person is sharing
their secrets to starting out, it includes how someone
else believed in them, gave them a chance, inspired
them, or because of a specific moment of time when
something occurred.
I will never forget the first day I left my house alone
after having my first child, and attempted a quick
Starbucks drive-through coffee and walk at the park.
The line was long after ordering and my son started
crying in his car seat, which I couldn’t reach. I was
trying to help soothe him from the drivers seat with
my voice, some singing, a few rattles or toys — hard
to remember exactly, but I must have seemed
obviously frazzled, tired and overwhelmed because
when I pulled up to pay for my coffee, the barista
informed me that the woman ahead of me in line had
seen my struggle in her rear view mirror and asked to
pay for my coffee, to add a cookie to my order and to
tell me “You’re doing an amazing job, hang in there!
And — welcome to the mom club.”
It seriously still moves me to tears when I recall that
experience. It was the smallest, most powerful and
unexpected gift I have ever received.
Why? Because I didn’t realize I needed that extra love
and words until she gave it to me. I was not aware of
how deeply vulnerable I felt that day until a stranger
took notice and told me I was doing a good job.
It gave me great perspective and the confidence to stay
out that day and walk, instead of rushing home
defeated.
As I drove away (savoring that first bold sip of hot
creamy coffee I had been imagining for hours), I realized
for the first time that when I might be feeling alone as a
new mother, up in the middle of the night nursing when
the rest of the world is asleep, dragging in the morning
with little sleep, crying in the shower, even blissfully
singing and snuggling my little one – that I’m never
really alone. I’m connected to a collective community of
women and mothers everywhere in the world going
through those same moments together. She didn’t judge
me in my moment of car chaos, she praised me. It was
completely empowering!
Her gesture was so unexpected and so small, but it truly
changed the chemistry in my body and my mindset
going forward.
I have a few friends who didn’t have the confidence to
pursue the work or hobby they wanted to do until
someone else validated them by saying they were good
at that type of thing.
I’ve known customer services reps who didn’t think they
She slowed down for a moment during her own busy
could ever become a sales person until enough other
day to recognize and honor me out of the blue just
people told them they had great sales skills.
when I felt like I was totally failing and regretting
leaving the house at all.
DEAR DEAN MAGAZINE | p.30

K A T Y A J U L I E T L E R N E R
Strengths that they didn’t see in themselves, or if they did,
they didn’t have the confidence to act on it until someone
else praised them for it.
So, the next time there is a parent in line behind you at the
store with a toddler throwing an epic tantrum, turn around
and tell them they are a superhero.
When you notice someone looking uncomfortable,
compliment them on a great outfit.
Pay for someone’s cup of coffee behind you in line.
Let the person with less items go ahead of you in line at
the store.
Tell someone who seems broken that they are strong.
***And if your husband, wife or partner is just driving you
bonkers, rise above and tell them something you love
about them to reinforce the positive things they do.
Because it’s not that hard. Because it’s important. And,
because people will do more of what they are
complimented on than what they are criticized for. The
problem is that we don’t compliment each other enough
to see that in action. Plain and simple, people are
empowered by praise, and when we help each other out,
we build each other up.
Compliments and kind words have extraordinary power
and when you pair praise with simple acts of daily
kindness – incredible things can start to happen. Help
your community by taking the lead and start giving
compliments left and right. It doesn’t cost a thing but a
moment of your time. Plus, you’ll be surprised how great
giving compliments makes you feel, too!
Ps. You made a good decision to read this blog post to the
very end! Great job! :)
DEAR DEAN MAGAZINE | p.31

“BLM-PD IS A PAGE TURNER! GREAT CHARACTERS, VIVID
VISUALS & WRITING THAT BRINGS EMOTIONS.
LOVE THE BOOK AND THE FACT THAT IT ALSO PROVIDES
REAL-LIFE EXAMPLES OF WHAT IS HAPPENING IN OUR
WORLD TODAY. LOVE THE FEMALE PERSPECTIVE
THROUGH LEADERSHIP, INTELLIGENCE, RESILIENCE,
FRIENDSHIP & POWER."
R E V I E W , B L M - P D

NEW PODCAST
CLICK TO MEET
THE HOSTS!
MYRON
JENN
Two longtime friends have informative, yet
brief discussions about multitudinous topics.
Listen Now
DEAR DEAN MAGAZINE | p.33

M y r o n J . C l i f t o n i s s l i g h t l y o l d e r t h a n f i f t y , l i v e s i n S a c r a m e n t o ,
C a l i f o r n i a , a n d i s a n a v i d B a y A r e a s p o r t s f a n . H e l i k e s c o m i c
b o o k s , t e l l i n g s t o r i e s a b o u t h i s l a t e m o m t o h i s b e l o v e d d a u g h t e r
L e a h , a n d t a l k i n g t o h i s f r i e n d s .
W E B S I T E | B O O K S H O P | T W I T T E R
NEW!
I N T E R E S T E D I N A D V E R T I S I N G ?
Send an email to
words@deardeanpublishing.com
LOVING MYRON J. CLIFTON'S CONTENT?
S H O W Y O U R S U P P O R T W I T H A C O N T R I B U T I O N T O D E A R D E A N !
D E A R D E A N M A G A Z I N E I S D E S I G N E D & C U R A T E D B Y K A T Y A J U L I E T L E R N E R
DEAR DEAN MAGAZINE | p.34

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