This Is The Drill

This Is The Drill

    This is the drill. You turn off the lights. You shut and lock the doors. If there are windows, you herd your students to a corner where they can’t be seen from the windows. You tell them it’s important they stay still. You tell them it’s important they...
Myriad Selves

Myriad Selves

         I could die of difference, or I could live myriad selves. Audre Lorde The enormous collage, Jheri Now, Curl Later, by L.A. artist Mark Bradford has been a part of the Brooklyn Museum’s permanent collection for over...
Boob

Boob

    I. “Just look at those boobies,” my mother said. I had never heard her utter the word “boob” before, let alone “boobies.” We were a missionary family, stopping to see relatives in Finland before moving permanently (terrifyingly)...
Mystery, Menace, and Early Sorrow

Mystery, Menace, and Early Sorrow

The dolls never slept.  They stayed wide eyed and unblinking on their shelf in my small, overheated room, watching me watch the man and woman in the apartment across the way. As a child with insomnia, I was wide eyed, too, although I would have preferred sleep....
Ed Milk

Ed Milk

  I met Ed Milk when I was working as a reporter for a chain of community newspapers in Sheepshead Bay, Brooklyn in the late seventies. A week after he came on staff I was fired for having signed a petition for a writers’ union, so we never had the chance to get...