First, there is racism.
I will keep reposting this until it is no longer true.
Why do killings keep happening?
Because, in America, first, there is racism.
Tyre D. Nichols’ photography can be viewed here: T. Nichols Photography
A photo of Tyre D. Nichols at his memorial service
When I married the first time, my parents gave me a bed as my wedding gift. A fancy, romantic, four-poster bed. It was what I asked for. By the time I quit that marriage, my husband hadn’t had sex with me in a month of Sundays. When I married this time, I asked for a canoe.
Canoeing, like love, is not for the faint of heart. Unlike love, however,...
In my neighborhood, Saturday mornings are:
guests brewing on the sidewalks outside coffee shops
women so new to their bicycles that I walk in the street to stay safe
an elderly hat-wearing man who could be a prophet or celebrity. Or homeless.
headphones and horn honks and posing for photos in front of the Blues Museum
Today, in Memphis, we met a fun new couple who have been leaders in Memphis for decades and live in our downtown neighborhood. How? We went to a coffee shop, in Memphis.
Today, in Memphis, I had lunch where one of the most accomplished, energetic, enthusiastic women I’ve ever met, and we plotted to end homelessness and world domination...
We interrupt the (ceaseless) sharing of Lenten Beauty to offer an announcement: “Never, Never, Never” is now live at Connotation Press.
Years ago, “Never, Never, Never” was judged by Ron Rash to be the winner of the Tennessee Writers Association Fiction contest. The win did not come with publication. I was lucky enough...
MEMPHIS AS BABYLON
Traveling North Parkway with the windows open, I drive through a scent, and my head jerks in memory: a cracked sidewalk with weeds springing tall; a blossoming hedge that smelled so sweet. That’s all I remember, but it’s enough to keep me searching for the bushes all spring. Along roadways, on vacant lots, in other untended...
I shuffled clothes through the narrow hallway. Brick wall on one side, eclectic paintings on the other, I didn’t have much room to maneuver. I’d spent the week sorting my stuff (this pile goes with us, this pile to the Salvation Army) and two suitcases had come with me to our small apartment in New Orleans, not a particularly good...
I live in Memphis on an island with wild edges and a dog who loves them as much as I do.
I have a wood-burning fireplace in my house.
I go to St. Mary’s Episcopal Cathedral where the Dean stands up in the pulpit and preaches the most unsettling, Holy truths, in a caring, loving way.
I can walk to the grocery store. I can walk to the coffee shop....
When I began talking about a Door of Hope writing group book, people told me the book had to include my voice. Feature my voice, even. This was not what I wanted. Specifically, I didn’t want to be the well-off white woman who began working with those who had no shelter and immediately had the bright idea to write a book about her experience....
Hip rehab, yes. But obsession in writing a new novel too. That’s why I’ve been so absent—the combination of these two life facts have been deadly to blogging, for which I apologize. BTW, I’ve missed being here. 🙂
Here’s my latest:
* The University of North Carolina was eliminated from the NCAA men’s basketball tournament....