Wandering children of Kansas away,

By mountain, by desert, or sea,

Feasting or fasting, at prayer or at play,

Whatever your fortunes may be,

Open the doors of your hearts to the breeze,

Prairie wind never are still,

Hark to the surf in the cottonwood trees,

The breakers that boom on the hill.

Open your soul’s windows–let in the sun–

The prairie sun gay with delight.

Where’er your wandering pathways have run,

Come home tonight.

Come home where Kansas lies under the stars

Twinkling back beauty and joy;

Come and let homely love poultice your scars,

Leave off your restless employ.

Come home where summer winds billow the wheat,

Where golden tides cover the sands;

Come–let your heart’s longings hasten your feet

And home love unfetter your hands.

Come where the tawny sunflower eagerly bends

A tawny frank face to the light,

So do our hearts seek the joy of old friends–

Come home tonight.

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Earlier this year, I blogged about Call Me Kuchu, a documentary about Uganda’s LGBT community:

Two documentary filmmakers traveled to Uganda last year to help tell the story of Uganda’s gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender community — a community that is besieged by a hostile administration, media, and culture. Their film, Call Me Kuchu (“kuchu” is a slang term for Ugandan LGBTs), centers largely on David Kato, one of Uganda’s most outspoken LGBT activists.

The story behind the film shifted abruptly after Kato was murdered this January. The filmmakers returned to Kampala to document the impact of this loss; the resulting film both celebrates the courage of Kato and the LGBT community and mourns his death.

Filmmakers Katherine Fairfax Wright and Malika Zouhali-Worrall were interviewed for the New York Times in an article published today, the one year anniversary of David’s murder. The article included a highlights from CMK, focused on David’s life and work:

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For the past two weeks I’ve been besieged by what I can only assume is the plague, and in the process, I’ve lost my voice. It started out like this:

Over the weekend, my camping buddies decided I sounded more like Sarah Michelle Gellar:

On Tuesday I turned into Kathleen Turner:

Then during a conference call yesterday, I was called Suzanne Plachette:

But I think I sound more like this:

Other names in the running include Squeaky, Snuffles, The Snuff Creature, Schnupfi, Coughy McCougherson, and, after my pathetic attempts to communicate in hand gestures, “satanic mime” and “big flapping bird.” I have the best coworkers.

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