my journey of self restoration
I dreamt last night that I watched a mushroom cloud rise up above my city. This is the type of dream I would have had in elementary school, when we were taught to hide under our small wooden desks — the kind with a lid and a compartment underneath which held our books, pencils, papers,
I didn’t see him approach. My head was turned in the opposite direction, my neck craning to see Alicia Keys on the jumbo-tron. Two trees, a building corner and a half million people stood between me and where Alicia spoke on stage. I was cold from standing still, wishing my fingerless gloves had fingers. My protest sign
My office window looks out at the Statue of Liberty. On this day, the sun is out after being shrouded for weeks by clouds gifting snow and rain. The water and sky beam a gentle blue. Elliott Bay, the body of water at the base of lady liberty is perfectly calm and I have
Dear Donald, One image hasn’t left my mind. It’s been over a year and yet it is lodged in my brain. March 1, 2016. Louisville, Kentucky. Shiya Nwanguma. In my mind’s eye, I can see this young lady, her face calm, proud, amid hysteria. How did she maintain her composure? Her arms at her sides,
