Let’s start with where I am: I’m at a Starbucks, the one on McGalliard. I’m sitting with a hot chocolate, but it’s all white chocolate. Don’t worry –– you’re still allergic to chocolate at the dawn of 2017. (It’s too sweet, but it’s warm, and that’s worth something.) Robbie’s here, too. You’ll meet him later.

I’m sitting on a bench, my laptop on a circular table with the aforementioned beverage. You’ll write here several times over the year ahead. You’ll bring company here and read. You’ll write a letter, some time later, your stomach turning and your eyes leaking tears. You’ll dig things up here; you’ll let them go. And, on a cold night with friends, you’ll come here to write more.

Continue reading “a letter to michael, one year ago.” →

“Growing up with two parents who are Political Science enthusiasts, I’ve paid attention to government and politics for as long as I can remember. The West Wing from the genius that is Aaron Sorkin is my favorite show because of its very real, if not overly optimistic, portrayal of the White House and D.C. politics. Election day excites me. It’s almost like the Super Bowl – minus the great commercials. I woke up Tuesday with a healthy sense of optimism that it was going to be a historic day. I didn’t expect it to be historic like this.

“Plain and simple, this has been hard for me.

Continue reading “after the vote #3.” →

“I’ve always been inspired by strong female leads, but Leslie Knope from Parks and Rec has always held a special place in my heart. There are strong parallels to what we’ve just witnessed here in America.

Continue reading “after the vote #2.” →

“Over the weekend when I was visiting home in rural southern Indiana, I drove the usual path to my house. I saw Trump yard signs, painted messages on plywood, and Trump 2016 flags hung up on flag poles; there was not a single sign supporting Hillary Clinton.

Continue reading “after the vote #1.” →

Election Day. I woke up on election day with a nervous pit in my stomach. After more than a year of contentious debate, of divisive and ugly rhetoric, we had reached the day of conclusion. My optimism, as always, was stubborn, and I worked to channel my nervous energy into hope, suggestions of empathy. I wondered, for a moment, how my nieces would react at learning of a female President.

Continue reading “the wounded healer.” →

We speak of courage like it’s an innate trait, a characteristic belonging to some, but certainly not all, of us. It’s not like this at all, in my experience. I’ve been cowardly, and I’ve been courageous. They start the same.

Continue reading “on courage.” →

This week, the United States will elect a new President. It is no secret that the path to this election has been among the most contentious and ill-spirited in recent history, and our nation feels more divided than ever. I see this – the gap of understanding between people on both ‘sides’ – each day as I work and live among a college campus. Some of my students have Donald Trump cutouts in their windows, pointing at me and grinning as I walk to grab coffee, and others scoff at the mention of his name. With students on all sides of the issue, in an increasingly hostile political environment, I find myself bracing for the results. Where will we be once the President is announced? How can we possibly find our way back together?

Continue reading “empathy and the 2016 election.” →

Yesterday, amidst a busy day, one of my students popped into my office and asked if she could hang out while I worked. She told me that my presence calms her, and I returned the sentiment. She slumped onto the couch, and I stood at my desk, typing a meeting agenda from the notes in my head. ‘I found a quote that made me think of you,’ she said. I braced, glancing up.

‘Yeah?’ I said.

When you’re deeply sensitive, love is ecstasy. Music is godlike. Heartache is a wide, somatic wound. Visual natural beauty is jewel-drenched, wild bliss. Tension and conflict are muscle-tightening and toxic, straight down to the cells.

Continue reading “mistakes worth making.” →

I met the morning slowly, pulling my second pillow up and stacking it so as to prop my neck up. An episode and a half of RuPaul’s Drag Race. Season 3. The first fall of Carmen Carrera, a major hit to ‘the Heathers.’ Gradually, the laziness grew stifling. Get up, I urged myself. With reluctance, I listened.

I waited a bit too long to run, only 45 minutes or so away from lunch plans, but I put my headphones in anyway. I jogged around campus, the sun overhead, the breeze gracious. Backwards cap, blue dri-fit shirt. Why didn’t you meet that guy who hit you up this morning, I wondered. Maybe you’re just going to be alone for a while.

Continue reading “where i am.” →