• Left of East- An Introduction

    In the summer of 2013, I embarked on a solo backpacking adventure across Northern Michigan. With no one to talk to along the way, my journal became a powerful and necessary companion. I wrote journal nearly every day, sometimes many times a day, to capture the events and insights of my time on the trail […]

  • One Cry Fix All

    My submission to The Moth Detroit StorySLAM topic: “Blood Sweat and Tears” When you go through a difficult time in your life, your body naturally deals with it by going into shock. This is a beautiful response because it allows you to go on with your life and get through every day when you’re not […]

  • A Real New Yorker

    They say you’re not a real New Yorker until you’ve cried in public.

  • CH@NGE

    The mathematical symbol for change is a neat little triangle Δ. I can remember drawing it on my notebook with a pencil. The teacher told us what it meant, and we took her work for it, but I wondered why, if we were describing change, did my pencil end up back where it started. There has […]

  • Light on Blight

    I grew up in a sweet, serene, safe community: a bastion of purity in small-town Michigan. We had no world-class issues. The police blotter in the local paper was comedically innocent: “raccoon topples garbage can,” “local man double-parks van.” But not too far away, trouble loomed large. Detroit, with its towering tombs was a shame to […]

  • On Solitude

    People, like deer and celebrities, tend to cluster amongst themselves. Anytime you should encounter a sitcom star, be still! Lower your gaze. Chances are good that his Emmy-winning girlfriend and the whole supporting cast will come trundling after.

Public Accounting

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On a trip to Germany years ago, I was chastised by complete strangers while riding the subway on two separate occasions. The first time, I was drinking a beer (legal in public but not legal on the train apparently) and the second time, I had my feet up on the seat opposite (not quite illegal but certainly rude). In both instances, a passenger saw my wrongdoing and called me out. For my part, I corrected my aberrant behavior and that was it. I could have ridden the subway all day and night without encountering a police officer to punish me but, as it was, I learned an easy lesson without receiving a ticket or using up city government resources.  That is the power of public accountability. Continue reading →

Coming Home

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My submission to The Moth Ann Arbor Story SLAM topic: “Home” Video available here.

I grew up in the small town of Chelsea, Michigan. And when I went to college I attended The University of Michigan, only 15 miles away. What this means is that, for the first couple decades of my life, my world was rather narrow, geographically speaking.

But while I was I college, I met my future husband and he changed all that. Together we have traveled to 5 continents, and over a dozen countries, we have lived in Australia, South Africa, and France. My whole world expanded. Continue reading →

Trapped

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When I first moved to New York City, I lived smack-dab in the center of midtown, under the shadow of the Empire State Building. I spent my days searching for a job and exploring my new city. One warm fall day, I dressed in a cute flowy skirt and went for a walk down Broadway. It felt very iconic, strolling down the avenue, passing shops and restaurants, seeing fashionable business-men and women. I boldly made eye contact with good-looking men as they walked by. Here in New York City of all places, these mysterious men regarded me with interest. I felt powerful, beautiful, and strong. How wonderful to be considered attractive by a stranger! Continue reading →

Earth god, Sky God

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Screen Shot 2014-07-06 at 8.51.28 PMWhen I was young, my God lived in the sky. With angels and believers by his side, He looked down at me from Heaven, and I sent my prayers into the air so that He may listen.

As an adult, I lost that God. He does not exist to me now. There is no one watching, listening, guiding, or even judging. He no longer serves as an explanation for everything I cannot understand. There is no room for God behind the last known star in the sky.

I don’t want it to be this way but it’s just the truth. Sometimes I miss praying. More often, I miss the security of Knowing. The loss is deep. Continue reading →

Young People, Short Memories

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In 1994, Nelson Mandela became the first black president to lead the nation of South Africa. His election marked the end of the racist Apartheid system, and his party was the African National Congress, the ANC. In the years since, the ANC has never lost the presidency, though power has been passed down to 4 different men over that time. For many South Africans, the ANC is synonymous with freedom from apartheid, and they will support it unwaveringly for life. To them, the choice at the voting booth is not between one party or another in a free South Africa, but between their liberators and Someone Else, and that is really not a choice at all. Continue reading →

Should: The Ultimate Obscenity

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If I had a transcription machine tied to my brain, it would document my thoughts. I could shuffle through the pages it generated and review my internal dialogue. I would probably laugh at a few bits, underline certain insights and skip over the inane fluff.  And then, like a diligent paralegal, I would redact every instance of the word “should,” crossing it out with a fat black magic marker. I can imagine how the pages would look, heavy with back ink bleeding through the sheets of paper, rendered impure by that pervasive insidious word. Continue reading →

Sadness, Striped

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Every so often, I get sad.
I let it happen because I am human and alive and that’s part of the deal.

Sadness is a natural variation in the spectrum of human experience, it happens. And when it does, that doesn’t mean it defines you. It is part of you but it is not you. Black stripes on white.

For some though, sadness is something more. So familiar it isn’t noticed, so suppressed is it obscured from view. It is the baseline on which everything else is layered. White stripes on black.

When I feel it, I wonder:
How far down does my sadness go- is it who I am or what I feel now?
and if it runs deep, with black underneath, then can I change it anyhow?