Tonight, we are enjoying the last moments of summer. Tomorrow, a new school year begins. My daughter will be a first grader. I’ll be returning to teaching art and also … Continue reading The last moments of summer.
Tag: mental health
Zionism is not a dirty word.
Antisemitism is at an all-time high, and social and news media outlets have done an excellent job of perpetuating the idea that the war in Gaza is everyone’s problem. In … Continue reading Zionism is not a dirty word.
I am an Existential Beach.
Every so often, a weather front will blow in and there will be a whiff of ocean in the air. A salty breeze, subtle, probably unnoticeable to most people, but … Continue reading I am an Existential Beach.
Differently bad.
My mother’s birthday was this past Wednesday. I had built up a fair amount of agitation about it ahead of time, anticipating that it would be a challenging day for … Continue reading Differently bad.
This whole “let them” thing.
I want to start off this post by saying that Mel Robbins seems like a lovely person who’s done great work for her own life and made a huge difference … Continue reading This whole “let them” thing.
I may be out of words for the world.
A terrible thing to consider when you’re a writer. But there it is. For years now, I’ve taught Jewish teenagers about the history and hallmarks of Antisemitism, and what to … Continue reading I may be out of words for the world.
Limits.
I’ve officially discovered a new limit for my body, and it’s depressing me. Apparently I can no longer handle the labor of love that is making eggplant parmigiana. This is … Continue reading Limits.
Seven lies (and two truths) my father told me.
In a sense, the term “lies” seems a bit strong, as for the most part, what this list entails is pretty harmless. But sugarcoating any of it by calling them … Continue reading Seven lies (and two truths) my father told me.
Buckle up, buttercup!
Are you ready for the craziest revelation I’ve had in years? I’ve discovered that, much like the secondhand smoke I inhaled around my practically chain-smoking parents for the majority of … Continue reading Buckle up, buttercup!
Angry.
I fucking hate Mother’s Day. There. I said it. My mother is a toxic narcissist who fucked my brother and I up in more ways than I can count. I’ve … Continue reading Angry.
Journeys in the Dark 