Queering the American DreamThe chalky remains of a life cut short filled my hands as I watched my faith slip through the cracks between my fingers. As ordained clergy, I've officiated a lot of funerals. For fourteen years, I shaped burnt ash across congregants' foreheads each year before Lent and reminded them that we all come from dust. To dust we shall return. This day, as I officiated my little brother's funeral, I held the ashes of his body in my bare hands. I'd never done