Have you ever had so much to say, you struggle to find words? It’s been five+ weeks since George Floyd’s death, and I think about him every day. A lot.
I’ve cried, I’ve expressed outrage and fury, dipped into hopelessness, and felt the hot, searing desire to punish. I’ve read countless articles and poignant Facebook posts from Black Americans who have been generous enough to share their experience. I’ve watched powerful videos, vulnerable in both their honesty and their anger, from Black women telling it like it is.
A Birthday Prayer
I woke up early this morning, opened my eyes and noticed the date on my digital alarm clock: June 18th. I felt a flutter of excitement. Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve held a special feeling about this day. Is it my birthday? No. Is it the birthday of a loved one? Sort of.
June 18th is Paul McCartney’s birthday. He is 78 years old today.
I was eight, and already a huge fan, when…
The Lifeguard
When I was three years old, I joined the swim team at our Country Club. All the kids in our family were strong swimmers, and mom had taught us to be fearless in the water. My first competitive race was in a division for age five and under, and I was the youngest of the […]
