to hell in a handbasket

What does success look like as we flail towards hell in a handbasket? I interpret that phrase to mean a lack of accountability, a lull into complacency, passivity – a space between being trapped and self-imposed constraints. In looking up the phrase a painting from 1515 is referenced, “Hieronymous Bosch painting “The Haywain” (c. 1515) (in the Prado,…

perhaps the only story I need to tell

He gets back in the silver sedan, carrying away my whole sense of self. I think about going home, and instead have another beer at the cafe before closing time. I turn to go home, stop at the bodega for another beer, and walk past my house to sit by the river. I am still…

people are hard for me

Other people can be really hard for me. I often seem outgoing, loud, engaging, humorous, charismatic, when I’m not moody, overly introspective, prickly, and self-involved. I am an only child who told her deepest secrets to a stuffed bear, that I still have; but now he sits on a shelf so that I don’t tear…

Allies – what it might mean to be PRO-BLACK instead of anti-racist

Unlearning internal and external systems of white supremacy is a complicated and painstaking process. I propose that being pro-Black is shortcut through the maze of the construction of race, the history of rape and murder, the policy and legal systematic attempt to destroy Black people and the resulting fabrication of whiteness. A shortcut may not…

business casual tried to steal my soul

Once a year all the teachers wore shirts from their alma mater colleges which meant jeans could be worn along with the t-shirt or sweatshirt. I walked in on that day in one of ill-fitting dresses I lined up to wear each week and was disappointed to walk into hallways of comfortably dressed colleagues. I…

white knuckling

I try to write things with meaning and weight, but tonight as I have to start planning the next steps of this adventure, I need to simply offer some records. I have been writing, i have been making progress. I have no measures to know if any of it is enough. I have heard of…

universe, I get it, message received loud and clear

I don’t always discuss the specifics of my life, but these are too good not to share. If you have been reading as of late, you know that I am taking a year away from being a classroom teacher to focus on my writing. It is also time for me to reflect on my career…

some of my truths

I am not sure I want biological children of my own I love being an aunt. I am terrible and know better but spoiling them is one of my favorite things. I love being a teacher, and I think that I am good at it. I want more freedom in my life. I am a…

No other choice

My blog posts have most recently focused on the act of writing. Writing is one of my survival mechanisms to resist the collective failures of our world. We all need survival escape hatches, because failure is not a healthy paradigm by which to view the world. We have no other choice but to survive, struggle…

fear of mediocrity

I was a mediocre photographer. It was one of my creative outlets when I was younger, an outlet I thought could perhaps be refined and polished. I took a few great photographs, but I could not be consistent nor obsessive in the necessary way an artist must be. I learned the core components of a…

the joy of sentences

A writer wants to work with words. A writer finds struggle and joy in using words. I was full of doubt, anxiety, fret, and uncertainty when I went off to a writing retreat for a week. I kept torturing myself with just one word “writer”. What did it mean to be a writer? Why bother…