"Hidden within New York, sits an underworld—a third city. In this city, dreams do not flourish and the woes of American racism, unequal wealth access, and now ethnic tokenism cripple its community members."
"Breaking News:Black Women having Black Babies in “Black Hospitals” is Now considered an act Of radicalism"
Twice at IKEA this year, a person has approached me, not making eye contact, demanding my immediate assistance. Twice, I have smiled in that moment, feeling my chest begin to tighten, and readied my voice for an unpleasant interaction. “Gee,” I said, the most recent time. “I wonder why you assumed I work here.”... Continue Reading →
"When you do finally still yourself—when the monkey brain quiets and the lizard brain activates its slow, unblinking surveillance of the world around it—the city will crush you. It will crush you with nothing but its breath and the contraction of its ribs."
I was distracted in daydreams about being named Sloan(e) and if I were, would I spell it Sloan or Sloane?
At Le Petit Café on Court Street, I sat across from Nina with a smile on my face and a clenched stomach. We chatted over lattes about the boys and the holidays, just as we always had. What I had to say to her shouldn’t have been explosive, but it was. In spite of the... Continue Reading →
I assisted with kids in Special Education, or what we called 12-to-1 classes, after the required ratio of students to teachers. The kids were a motley crew of dysfunction. They were middle-school-aged juvenile delinquents, learning disabled, violent, from foster homes, and no one seemed to give a damn whether they succeeded or failed.