We’re at the Point in the Trump Era in which Strangers in Factories Are Sending Secret Messages
Last Thursday, I found that single word scrawled in black Sharpie on the cardboard inside a package of photos I’d ordered. Odd, I thought, turning over the first of my photos.
The pictures were of me with my children, holding signs at the recent Women’s March,… Read More
A Lesson In Gender Pronouns For My Fellow Former English Majors
The Tuesday before the Women’s March, I stood in my kitchen, just outside the DC border, on the phone with my eldest son. “We’ll drive down on Friday,” he said. “Can we stay with you?” “Of course,” I said, figuring he meant himself and his wife… Read More