A self is not given. It emerges.
Essays and reflections on how we become who we are.
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What if dignity is not something we are born with?
Humiliation, recognition, and the making of worth.
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Leaving can be its own kind of arriving.
Belief, doubt, and what remains.
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Grief changes us. It need not end us.
Loss, endurance, and meaning.
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Every disagreement holds more than two paths.
Thoughtful responses are always welcome.
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Welcome

The Emergent Self is a place to think carefully about how we become who we are — through humiliation and recognition, belief and doubt, loss and meaning. I’m Robert K. Green, a writer and scholar who has spent a lifetime questioning what we’re told it means to be human. Read, disagree thoughtfully, and join the conversation.

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Latest articles

Open doors of a grand Catholic church, seen from the altar with a green chasuble in the foreground, looking out on a neighborhood street where neighbors talk together

From the Altar to the Streets

I loved the liturgy and served a near-northside Indianapolis parish as White flight hollowed it out. Spinoza helped me understand why I had to leave, and what true piety asks of us.
Watercolor of an elderly woman in a pink cardigan speaking with a nurse who listens closely in a sunlit examination room, while a gray-haired man sits quietly in the corner with his back to the viewer.

Dignity Is Something We Do

In the emergency room, I answered every question the staff asked my mother. My answers were correct, and that was the problem. What that morning taught me about dignity.
Watercolor of a man standing in a doorway with his back to the viewer, a black clerical shirt left on a chair in the dim room behind him and a bright 1990s office ahead, where a plane climbs past the window.

Leaving Can Be Its Own Kind of Arriving

After I left the priesthood, I spent a year in temp jobs, standing in a doorway between who I had been and who I would become. Leaving, I have come to believe, is its own kind of arriving.

From the blog

An older White woman in a Sunday coat and hat stands in a sunlit church, seen from behind, looking up at a large Haitian-style creation tapestry of Black figures, animals and a golden sun

A God You Can Keep in a ZIP Code

A parishioner once told me a tapestry did not belong in church because there were no White people in it. Thirty years later I have the words for what she was defending: not God, but a mascot.
Watercolor of a man seen from behind on a bench in a dim office break room, a second coffee cup set beside him as dawn light comes through the window, asking whether depression was really a gift

Was My Depression Really a Gift?

Was my depression really a gift? A former priest tests his own claim that the dark years after he left the priesthood were a gift.
Watercolor of a front door standing open onto a stone step, where a covered dish has been left, suggesting I'll pray for you as a doorway to showing up

Is “I’ll Pray for You” Ever Enough?

Is "I'll pray for you" ever enough? A former priest weighs the honest case for prayer and asks readers when those words open a door.

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