My Native Language Is English
Acculturation, or the uglier word assimilation, isn’t always a choice.
My Favorite Original Poem: Spinster
Spinster Underneath piles of wedding lingerie, dented brass dreams, dulled by disappointment, Under faded images of strong, handsome men with perfect teeth and silvery lace dusted with loneliness, I find quivering anticipation, new and wet, excited to grow and stretch...
T-Minus 11 Days…
We're eleven days away from the hand-over of power in Iraq and I feel new doubt about our -- the American people -- our decision-making ability. No, we didn't elect George W, but knowing what we know now, would we have allowed him to take office as easily as he did in...
Dating, Part One
I'm encouraged by the responses to yesterday's posting about America's foreign policy. Some responded here and some friends emailed me directly. Thank you for telling me you feel the same way. I feel less alone and I feel like a silence has been broken. I'm lightening...
Ashamed to be American
The events themselves were horrifying and numbing at the same time. Constant reviewing of them, trying to determine how everything happened and why, keeps the events alive in my memory along with the pain and grieving I thought I had finished. There is no chance to...
Dawn of the Edge
What is this "edge" I refer to and what am I doing on it? Well, most days it's a hazy, far-off concept that doesn't concern me much. On bad days, it becomes the dividing point between sanity and delusion, the edge of my own reason, eh? And in my grandiose moments it...