Yesterday, as I talked to various friends on the phone, logged into my email, joined in group texts, checked in on social media, and tried to stay quarantined but connected, I’ve been struck by the vastly different reactions the people around me are having to...
This past fall, on a beautiful, sunny Saturday, I attended a writing workshop with my college poetry professor, Jack Ridl. We were cozied into a small church hall and given permission to dig into our memories and free write and start pieces that maybe we’d...
I remember the exact moment of fifth grade — sitting in my desk, watching my teacher explaining a spelling game — when I promised myself that if I ever became a teacher, I would not forget what it felt like to be a student. But I do it all the time. Our desks and...