There are two weeks left of this school year in which I have responsibilities to teach, clean out classrooms, conduct conferences, and the like. (Report cards are already written, which … Continue reading Stumbling to the finish line.
Part of the solution.
Do you want to be part of the problem, or part of the solution? I have felt an increased need to ask myself this question as a way to guide … Continue reading Part of the solution.
Poppies Torn Asunder.
Poppies torn asunder, We all watch in wonder As the world comes crashing down. To witness – but not act. Those who could have taught, Have forgotten how, And we … Continue reading Poppies Torn Asunder.
There is always hope.
My therapist told me today that in the seven-plus years she’s worked with me, she’s watched me learn how to have hope again, how to trust in the safety of … Continue reading There is always hope.
Confronting the attacker.
Narcissists don’t change. People who’ve gotten sucked into a narcissist’s manipulative picture of reality tend to think they can help guide the narcissist to play better with others. They think … Continue reading Confronting the attacker.
Stranger Danger.
To the old man who seemed to feel perfectly entitled to come up to a mother shopping at the grocery store with her daughter this afternoon, and badger them into … Continue reading Stranger Danger.
Mommy issues.
“Side? I am on nobody’s side, because nobody’s on my side, little Orc.” —Treebeard to Pippin, from The Lord of the Rings: the Two Towers You know, for me, Father’s … Continue reading Mommy issues.
To all the motherless women out there…
To all the motherless women Out there, This weekend very well may suck. It may suck from start to finish, Or it may have intermittent suckage, Or it may just … Continue reading To all the motherless women out there…
Starfish.
I read a little story once about a beach that was covered in hundreds of starfish that had washed up with the tide. A young person was walking along the … Continue reading Starfish.
Every memory a eulogy.
Every story I share about my father Every memory I hold Feels invariably like a eulogy And the trouble is, I’m not sure for whom. He died seventeen years ago, … Continue reading Every memory a eulogy.
Journeys in the Dark 