Since the U.S. election when somehow–impossibly, it had seemed–Donald Trump became president-elect, I have been vacillating between tears and panic. Subsequent events have proven many of our fears well-founded–the rise in hate […]
(By Riccardo Ghilardi photographer (own work) CC) Lisa saw my post processing the loss of author/activist/actor and General Feminist Badass Carrie Fisher yesterday, and asked me to share it here as […]
Kari O’Driscoll’s piece, “When Girls Make Noise,” at The Manifest-Station caught my attention when I was busy with something else, almost as if it interrupted. I loved the title, and the first line spoke […]
The ballots have abeen cast and counted and the news stations have called it. The outcome of this election has shown us just how much work we still have to do. First, take […]
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Recently the poet Annie Finch posted on her blog a piece called “Things I’ve Been Ashamed to Share About Being a Writer Until Now,” in which she gets specific about what men […]
Last week, Karrie Higgins (whose work we’ve highlighted before) published an essay so controversial, the Huffington Post took it down and deleted her contributor account within hours of it going live. Higgins’ essay, originally titled “Donald Trump confessed to sexual assault on tape and so did my brother, and here is what I know: a tape doesn’t change a goddamned thing,” is a devastating and necessary account of the reality so many women face regarding sexual assault, why it is under reported, and why so may male assailants roam free.
Originally posted on Drifting Through:
Dear Mr. Trump… can I call you Mr. Trump? Is that ok? I want you to be happy, that’s very important to me. Before I get started,…
As I listen to the commentary and interviews in broadcast media and read op-ed pieces about the recent stabbings and shootings, I struggle to accept the truth: there but for some sort of grace goes my family. We could have been chasing after my mother on a paranoid spree of violence. We could any day be the victims of someone else’s unstable loved one. So could you. How do we face such a threat? How do we diffuse the ill, who are so often victims themselves.
Because screaming at Trump on a TV screen at the gym while pedaling an elliptical machine wasn’t helping, I got in my car and drove 628 miles to Lexington, Kentucky, to attend […]