ShapedI am a piece of wood that has been carved and shaped and sandpapered into something different. I am not the same person that I was in the…Jan 2, 2022Jan 2, 2022
Share Your CookiesA recent eight-hour flight delay made me identify with Nye’s poem “Gate A-4.” Originally scheduled to depart at 11am, we didn’t actually…Aug 1, 2021Aug 1, 2021
The WreckAdrienne Rich’s poem “Diving Into the Wreck” resonates with many of my students — and me — because it means so many different things to…Aug 1, 2021Aug 1, 2021
Stories and Empathy“Sweat,” by Zora Neale Hurston, is one of my favorite short stories. The eye dialogue, while difficult at first to read, really pulled me…Aug 1, 2021Aug 1, 2021
The Real MeMy inner sense of self is about twenty years younger than my reality. Like the narrator in H.P. Lovecraft’s “The Outsider,” I, too am…Jul 31, 2021Jul 31, 2021
Cognitive DistortionLies, lies, and more lies. At its heart, Arthur Miller’s play The Crucible is a showcase of how one lie multiplies throughout a community…Jul 31, 2021Jul 31, 2021
Watch MeWhen I was an undergrad studying to become a teacher, I also held down a full-time job. Someone had to pay the bills, after all! Most of my…Jul 31, 2021Jul 31, 2021
The ChickensI love Williams’ “The Red Wheelbarrow” poem because of the white chickens.Jul 31, 2021Jul 31, 2021
Mental Health MattersToday I joined NAMI, the National Alliance on Mental Illness. Until I had a friend suffer a psychotic break, I did not fully understand the…Jul 30, 2021Jul 30, 2021
Dental Phobic Future Patient“One of These Days” gave me the heebie jeebies. I already have a phobia about the dentist, but now I have even more reasons not to go. The…Jul 30, 2021Jul 30, 2021
Bitter isn’t BetterBitter is in the tastebuds of the taster. While my personal genetics seem to mark me as a person who cannot taste certain bitter compounds…Jul 30, 2021Jul 30, 2021
The GraveyardI confess that when I read “In the Land of the Free” by Sui Sin Far, I wept. The impossible predicament of red tape and the pervasive…Jul 30, 2021Jul 30, 2021
Meet HarryThis is Harry the Heron. He lives in my neighborhood and often perches on our dock over the Indian River. When I read “The White Heron,” I…Jul 30, 2021Jul 30, 2021
Remembering Their NamesReading Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl made me feel guilty for the deeds my distant relatives committed. I grew up poor and always…Jul 29, 2021Jul 29, 2021
Grief and Light in “Annabel Lee”This summer, my 22-year-old nephew, Ryan, died in a car crash after his car hydroplaned on a windy, wet road in rural Georgia. The trauma…Jul 28, 2021Jul 28, 2021
