Wait, everyone always implied. Wait till tenure, wait till menopause, then you will be free. I didn’t want to wait to be happy.
Everyone deserves to have a seat at the table, and that seat can’t be tricked away from us by some faithless cis white politician’s grift. At least it shouldn’t be.
It really was the house to end all houses: impossibly big, impossibly beautiful, and, ultimately, just impossible.
Labor is at its best and most powerful when it’s at its most inclusive and radical.
Our future, the one we are living, was not inevitable. It was chosen. It is an ongoing choice.
Instead, pregnant people’s bodies are being turned into crime sites.
We will adapt. We will find new nesting places. But there will be no return to “before.” Not for the flock.
Who doesn’t yearn to be read and recognized?
Leaving began to feel like a comfort; if the country couldn’t get out of its rut, then at least I could get out of mine.
I had so many clothes, none of them special. More than just a closet refresh, I needed to change my attitude toward clothing, money, and being pelit.