today, to be an American, for America is a place do not recognize, a language I no longer seem to speak. I won’t pretend I can speak to the refugee or immigrant experience; I can’t. But Warsan Shire can, so I will let her. I dare you to read every word. Home Warsan Shire no … More I am Ashamed…
“Well, darkness has a hunger that’s insatiable, and lightness has a call that’s hard to hear. I wrap my fear around me like a blanket, I sailed my ship of safety till I sank it…” – Indigo Girls, Closer to Fine Friends, Things are looking dark right now. We are less than a … More Solidarity in Darkness
On Saturday, I opened my jewelry box, took out a button and attached it to my coat. I had gotten this button on a street in Washington DC in 2003, when I was 19 and protesting the invasion of Iraq, an occupation we are still wasting blood and money on today, 14 years … More Another Woman For Peace: Thoughts From the March
As I get off to an uncertain start with 2017, both personally — I’ve finished my Creighton internship and am now a full-fledged FCP (FertilityCare Practitioner), so now what? — and in terms of watching the unfolding events of our nation with a mixture of anxiety and revulsion on basically every level, I’m left thinking … More 2017: A Year in Written, Spoken, Words
Today, I met Bruce. Though really, I think his name was Jesus. The oldest girl-child at school, the twins at home with babysitting Grandma, I was finally, blessedly, going to get work done. My bag was packed with files, and notes, and plans. So many plans. How I was going to help my brothers and … More I Met God at Starbucks
I’ve been trying to find my voice since “the day” a few days ago. I’ve cycled through most of the feelings one person can have – incredulity, anger, fear, sadness, – wash, rinse, repeat. As ideas, feelings, reflections, lists, plans, and poems swirl in my head almost manically, I’ve struggled to put to words the … More Lord, Give Me That Fire
“When boys will be boys, then girls will be garbage.” – Ann Voskamp I don’t remember much from the assault, but I do remember the shame. The knot which began in the pit of my stomach, tightening the noose of shame around me until I could hardly breathe. It happened, as nearly all sexual assaults … More When Boys Will Be Boys
