Why it matters: picking the lock of Christian patriarchy
Yesterday the Feminisms Fest was all about why we’re feminists. Today’s question is: why does it matter? I read Emily Joy Allison’s post this morning about how feminism matters to her because of her...
View Article“Follow your heart”
In which I will probably sound a lot like Lauren Dubinsky, who is usually right about this stuff. The credits were rolling on the Disney princess movie. I was in a swoony-moony eight-year-old’s...
View ArticleBeing seen, being heard
source: pinterest “I just don’t feel heard,” she texted me. “I know, but I hear you,” I thought. *** Awkward silence was the norm in the kitchen at one place I worked. You’d slip in for coffee or water...
View ArticleAdvent, à venir
I’m not really thinking about Christmas much right now. There are too many pieces of life still unresolved this December. I can’t see very far ahead–this is driving in fog with my low beams on, not...
View ArticlePrivilege and talking about hardship
“I would be just devastated.” It’s a word I’m not allowed to use, I think. You hit a point where too many bad things have happened to you in too short a period of time, and you suddenly have no time to...
View ArticleJune, in reflection and in metaphor
For the last year, I’ve been sleeping on couches, borrowed mattresses, and at last, my own thin IKEA futon thrown down on the floor. I have lived out of a suitcase since last August. This last week I...
View ArticleDriver’s Ed, RVA
I wrote this back in September 2014. xo, h. * It was raining when he picked me up. I dashed through the steaming air and bounce-slam into the back seat behind Jean. Jean was tense, her shoulders riding...
View Articlecircles
I am driving down Hull Street Road, coffee in the holster, string cheese in my teeth, driving into the sunrise. I am back in this town with my boots strapped on tight and my coat swishing at my knees...
View ArticleA gift
I’m sitting at the picnic table in my parents’ kitchen, the mess of art projects and nubbins of flowers picked by siblings and half-finished notebooks and Costco packs of food surround me. Walking down...
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