Indira was mesmerized by the leaves. Perhaps more taken by them than with Michael, her coffee date. Continue reading
Sometimes poetry is purely primal, and the words never ring truer…
You have woken the witch that lives deep inside me.
You have removed the slumber chains from the giant of old.
You have handed me a box of matches and no chaperone
And a world made of lies and polyester.
You have barked up the wrong bitch.
I have shucked off the good, southern lady’s cloak,
Of the homecoming court, the cheerleader,
The preacher’s daughter, hands gentled in her lap.
They tied it at my neck with a bow, a Gordian girl-knot,
When I was young and bossy and sure-footed
“For protection,” they said.
Whose protection? I wondered.
I have sent that shit out to the dry cleaners
I will not pick it up
They can sell it for a profit from a rack on the street.
From now on,
I’m exposing the raw pink edges of my true skin to the sun.
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Today’s confirmation of a woefully inept and unqualified Secretary of Education has left many people shaking their heads. Especially because it was revealed that DeVos had made significant financial contributions to the campaigns of many Senators who voted for her both in her confirmation hearing and then in the Senate floor vote. “How could this happen?” many people wondered. “How can this be legal?”
It is definitely a part of white privilege to be surprised by any of this, as people of color have long known that the system is rigged. And so have I, because I was once accused by a policeman of hitting him with my car. Even with my dad as a witness, I went to court and lost. Continue reading
My last grandparent, my paternal grandmother, died when I was 15. I miss her still. Grandma Esther was a mere slip of a thing, in her usual housedress and glasses with lenses so thick she looked like an owl. I remember her as self-effacing; never wanting anybody to make a fuss over her, content to slip into the background of any scene. If she were alive today, I’d tower over her physically, although I’m no giant myself at just 5’ 3 ¾”. But as the years roll by, I’ve come to realize that my life has been built upon her small shoulders. Continue reading
To those who saw the Women’s Marches around the country and — damn — around the world and didn’t “get it” — try harder. To those who called the rallies “protests” and compared us to those who willfully and criminally broke windows, attacked the police and set a car on fire in D.C. yesterday — try harder. To those who don’t understand that our individual rights and freedoms are under siege — try harder. Continue reading
I have not been looking forward to this week. But, as I’m fond of saying, time only marches forward. And so, here it is. The time has arrived.
But, does time only move forward? This week is bookended by events that make me question that very notion. Continue reading
As a child, I never understood why adults were so dismissive of their birthdays. And then, somewhere along the way, I became an adult myself.
This year is a milestone birthday for me. Or perhaps a mid-milestone birthday, as I’m halfway between 40 and 50. I’m at the age where a birthday no longer marks the exciting steps taken away from birth. Instead, it is a step towards an eventual death.
But markers are just arbitrary placements in time; a time whose length none of us knows for certain. If there’s one lesson I’ve learned well during my life it is that time only ever moves forward. Birthday or no, every day edges us forward toward the end. Instead of apathy or anger, I’ve chosen to focus on living every day to its fullest. Continue reading
As anybody who uses it knows, social media, and particularly Facebook, has the power to unite, and to divide. But that’s not quite right: The truth is that social media makes it EASIER to unite or divide, but it’s not the thing with the power to do either one. We are. Continue reading
I was recently asked by Renée at the Mummy Tries blog to write a post about how I thought a Trump presidency might affect the rest of the world. I waited until just a few days before Election Day to write the piece because my thoughts and opinions were on a roller coaster ride on a daily basis.
Because I spent my junior year of college abroad, attending the University of Bristol, I know what it’s like to “represent” an entire country’s way of thinking. Although Bristol is in no way a backwater, country town, and other Americans attended the university, I still found that those around me—friends, fellow students, professors, shop owners—were still very much interested in getting the opinion of an American on a variety of subjects. It’s both a difficult and heady position to be in, and I tried to tread carefully because I was under no delusions then, and even less delusions now, that my opinion in any way, shape, or form represents the bulk of Americans. It can be a dangerous thing, indeed, to assume that other people think the way that you do. Continue reading
November is here already, at just about the time we were getting used to the idea of October. The truth is, we’re never quite ready for the steady passing of time, no matter what month the calendar turns to.
I love November because it’s my birthday month. But I also love it because it’s the month when Mother Nature typically gives up those schizophrenic last days of absurd heat and focuses on the predictability of crisp, cold mornings, with the occasional flock of Canadian geese wandering overhead. And I love November because it contains Thanksgiving, my favorite holiday of the year. Continue reading