Living My Own Narratives

What does it mean for something to be mine and not yours? what "right" do I have to a space, a land, a boundary? Maybe I'm the "good" immigrant to them. The Ivy degree, no criminal record, "good addition" to this country checkboxes. I think about the first time someone told me that I should… Continue reading Living My Own Narratives

When Standing on a Precipice, There are Unknown Arms Around You

(A creative conversation piece written with my dear friend and college roommate, Alexandra Wilcox)   My mother weaves a beautiful bedtime story For her daughters as the lights dim at night Brave, bold, and beautiful Our voices rising strong above the waves   I waited on the sidewalk until she ascended the steps Children happily… Continue reading When Standing on a Precipice, There are Unknown Arms Around You