When I was student teaching in 2013, I was assigned to a challenging class of third graders, and learned quickly that trying to talk over them would only result in … Continue reading Someday. (Or, Ode to a Whistle.)
When I was student teaching in 2013, I was assigned to a challenging class of third graders, and learned quickly that trying to talk over them would only result in … Continue reading Someday. (Or, Ode to a Whistle.)
Ever hear the phrase, those who can’t do, teach? I’m chuckling to think of it because in this particular instance, I both do and teach. But I’m not sure if … Continue reading Profundity.
I am an elementary school art teacher. Color is kind of my thing. Admittedly, it’s been my thing since long before the art teacher gig. I’ve had a passion for … Continue reading The tragic tale of my favorite color.
I have developed a funny habit of picking up broken things. It started with myself. Perhaps I try to do for others what no one else did for me. I … Continue reading A eulogy for Astro.
I’m trying to figure out how to conduct an exorcism. Can a person perform one on themselves? “Asking for a friend,” as they say. Suffering sexual abuse is arguably the … Continue reading Exorcism. (TW: sexual abuse)
“I think there’s somethingYou should knowI think it’s time I stopped the showThere’s something deep inside of meThere’s someone I forgot to be…” I saw one of those fancy shmancy … Continue reading Loneliness and freedom.
Tomorrow is Halloween. My kid is very excited, of course. Tonight we put together her homemade ghost costume, and talked about how she’ll put it on tomorrow evening after dinner … Continue reading The day after.
It feels like up until three weeks ago, there was this illusion that while we knew Antisemitism was a thing, of course, it was the exception rather than the rule. … Continue reading The cheese stands alone.
Seven years. I’ve been seeing my therapist for seven years. Actually it’s officially seven years this month. (Cheers, doc!) (I actually never call her that, but in the interest of … Continue reading For better or worse.
Mad. So much mad. Every version of me, from neglected child me to abused teen me to gaslit young adult me to present-day wide awake me, are all white-hot mad. … Continue reading Space invaders. (TW: sexual abuse)