Chantelle Pence

While I do believe in the power of prayer and that our thoughts create reality, nothing much changes until we roll up our sleeves.

It’s a tall order to love “the other.” It can’t be faked. It requires some skill, I think, and a willingness to keep reaching. A willingness to see and be seen.

It seems the ultimate disrespect to not take care of everything, nose to tail.

There are no shades of gray in December. There is only dark and light. And we have both inside.

In seeking connection and reconciliation, if space is not created for truth-telling and empathy, then it turns into finger-pointing and projecting.

The only thing that matters is love. We can’t take any of this with us. The most fulfilling “thing” is our connection to other humans.

One thing I learned from my time in the darkness: Life is both joy and pain. Somehow it’s sweeter that way.

Anger, distraction and an overblown sense of obligation leave a spirit in tatters. It's time to regain some old harmony.

Tell your stories and heal, then decide how public to make your pursuit of justice.

Sometimes, if you look past the flaws for the good in people, you'll find it and then some.

We don't need another suicide study; we need to break the debilitating silence.

Condescension, duty, pity are no help to a shattered soul.

Things you take for granted, until you've been away: a tiny log cabin post office, heated by a Jungers stove, with a wall of old-fashioned glass-paned mailboxes, fewer than a hundred.

This is the time of year that makes space for magical thinking and no-strings giving.

OPINION: Rural Alaska is a place of innovation, creativity and hard work -- and that's no less true for rural schools.