In my AP history class in Northern Virginia, we held an annual debate about the Civil War.
I know, right? What’s there to argue about? Slavery bad. Confederacy wrong. I thought captaining the team for the North would be a slam dunk.
I forgot I was in Virginia, Confederate flag central. Continue reading Still We Reap (#225)
I went to the Women’s March in D.C. last weekend. Me, and 750,000 other people who felt compelled to stand up and say, “Everything you stand for is wrong, Donald Trump, and we will fight you every inch of the way.”
I could have marched in L.A., but I feel it’s too easy for Donald to write off Coastal/ Hollywood elites.
Or maybe I felt a primal desire to get in his front yard and scream. Continue reading You Don’t Get a Goddamned Cookie (#171)
My father was an authoritarian. When I screwed up, the consequences were swift. That’s how I expect justice to roll.
I got my first ticket when I was 16 in suburban Virginia. I could have contested it. I didn’t. I sniffled. I paid the ticket. I endured a weeklong harangue by my father. Continue reading Of Privilege & Police (#168)