I Refuse. And I Nurture, Too.

The seed of this piece of writing is fatigue.The seed of this piece of writing is anger.The seed of this piece of writing is curl-up-in-a-ball-and-remember-that-shitty-Christian-pregnancy-clinic-that-showed-you-oversized-photos-of-fetuses-and-cry-but-no!-there’s-so-much-work-to-do-plus-your-kids-need-you-and-so-do-other-people-too. Right now I have three pieces of work to do, in front of me–One is a book review about British concentration camps during famine, plague, and war in India and…

Standing in His Shoes

My grandfather Robert was a large man, in many ways. He drank Coca-Cola, smoked too much, adored candy, ate liverwurst sandwiches with potato chips on top. He died of emphysema when I was in high school, before I got to the age when I could have straight-up conversations with him about the world. He was…