Places
Leaving the Sisterhood of Women Writers
The more I wrote about women, the more distanced I felt from the figure I saw in the mirror.
Tailoring My Clothes, Fitting into My Life in America
My idea of home had changed, so I took the symbolic step of finding a new tailor—marking Philadelphia as a place that now fit me right, too.
These Boots Were Made for Walkin’ Away from Oklahoma
There was nowhere to go back to. Oklahoma was out of the question, always out of the question. But then, where was home?
How I Find Home in the Persian Poetry of Hafez
Home means that you’re anchored in something deeper than second-hand nostalgia, that you miss your country because it is a part of you.
In Nigeria, Burning is Starting to Feel Like Normal
Fortunately, the recession did not affect the prices of alcohol in the way that the price of shaving cream and school fees had nearly tripled.
As a Teacher and Writer, It’s Not My Job to Manage the Feelings of Men
It’s not my job to absorb every feeling a man has. In my classroom, I am the one who decides whose feelings get airtime, and how they are shared.
War of the Worlds à la Française: On Protest Culture in France
France is famous for its commitment to authority and order, but every so often the top blows off the mountain and you’re left with a volcanic cauldron of revolution.
How a Baseball Team Helped Me Make Peace with My Home State
People will tell you the Marlins suck, that no one likes the Marlins. “Marlins fans?” they’ll joke, because everyone knows that Marlins fans don’t exist. Except they do, we do.
My Father Wishes He Were a Writer, Like Me
Writing was just something I thought happened to people naturally, that whatever wasn’t written was eventually forgotten. And I wanted to remember everything.
After Christchurch, My Grief Came Late
I chose to treat myself with ease—to not resist my natural response, but to sit with it, allow it to manifest, and reflect on why so many of us felt this way and what it could teach me.
