Didion depicts Hawaiʻi as a place that exists solely in the white American imagination, and, because of this, her journalism is a fiction.
Like Pennywise the Clown, I too was stealing childhood from those who had more of it than I did.
All my life, I had looked for answers in books, and I was no different when it came to endometriosis.
BIPOC kids can be the heroes, the fighters who push back against impossible odds. We, too, should be the stuff of legends and prophecies.
While kids my age were falling in love with the fantastical, I did not. I wanted to read about rich white girls behaving badly.
On the back of that wind, my brain rose and skipped and tumbled far beyond the boundaries of any quarantine.
These stories had deep histories, centered Black women, and belonged to us. We only had to be brave enough to claim them.
When my father died in 2012, I inherited his well-read copy of Montaigne’s ‘Essais.’
Where I lived and grew up, the novella was never endangered.
“I needed preparation, not protection. I needed to see myself as a part of history.”