

The Hinges Are Off
A writer without words. That’s been me. I’ve spent the last week trying to figure out how to post about the events going on in this country, and unable to find the words. Like so many of us, I’ve just not known what to say. What do you say to black men you know and love who are in fear for their very lives? What do you say to your children, some of whom don’t understand, others who think it doesn’t involve them? What do you say to yourself when you can’t sleep at night from


The End?
This is the third part of a tale of education, the government, and rats…for the first and second parts, check the previous posts. “So You’re Lisa!” Harmless enough, right? Except I heard that phrase at least a dozen times yesterday afternoon. And it made me really uncomfortable – but I recognize my comfort level here isn’t really of any sort of importance. I was invited on a walk-through of the school that I’ve previously discussed yesterday. I’m pretty sure I was invited

I’m Not A Rabble-Rouser! But…
This is the second part of a tale of education, the government, and rats…for the first and third parts, check the other posts. Seriously people…those of you who know me know that a spotlight is *not* my idea of a good time. In fact it’s generally my worst nightmare come true. I worked in the theater industry in college – on the stage crew. THAT’S my idea of fun – near the dramatic, creative, awesome people, but dressed all in black behind the scenes. So last Friday, I felt


Fight Your Fight, But Fight It Right
This is the first part of a tale of education, the government, and rats…for the second and third parts, check the other posts. Bigboy and Hunchback. Two names I don’t think I’m going to forget anytime soon. Why? Because they are the names of the rats that are terrorizing, and on occasion attacking, the students and staff at Roosevelt Senior High School. Perhaps I should say “have been” simply because today happens to be the last day of school for this school year, so thei