Nicole Froio on a gay Brazilian icon, the seminal show “Vai Que Cola,” and living under Jair Bolsonaro’s anti-queer regime
Each night, I faced my fear. Again and again, I went to bed.
In any serious picture of me, I am not comfortable enough to look directly into the lens. I don’t know if I will ever be.
Tiana Nobile, Ansley Moon, and Marci Calabretta Cancio-Bello chat about poetry, their experiences of being Asian American adoptees, and more
“Ahmed, eh,” says my Uber driver. “Quite a burden you carry, with a name like that.”
I find myself looking at the same memories with new eyes now that you’re gone.
I could only acknowledge my thyroid condition from sly, sideways angles—a hobbit stealing from a sleeping dragon’s hoard.
Squirrels are violent maters. I thought about that as metaphor, but I’ve already written that kind of essay, that story.
And does asking these questions make me a good mother?
Not-great tattoos remind you that you are a constantly evolving human—that your definitions of beauty and happiness may change form.