They told me, “Gay people are all in WeHo. There are no gay people in Inglewood.” To be gay was not only to be Other, but to be white.
Home staging is a privileged kind of precariousness.
I want to live in a world where I can be a physicist without also being asked to speak on or compensate for the persistent racism of institutions.
Out on the road and in the great outdoors my dad and I discovered we were more like each other than we believed.
My heart is set on the Philly cheesesteak—the only one, I’m certain, to be found in India.
When your maternal grandmother dies from breast cancer, there’s this strange intersection between her health and your mother’s health and yours.
Every time I tell a customer that we’re not open for browsing, I know I am reminding them of how Covid-19 has disrupted our rhythms and routines, robbed us of numerous small pleasures.
Chineseness became a part of my heritage I could name but didn’t really understand.
As someone with over ten years in the industry, I still make $4.95/hour—plus tips.
When I walk the dog or run errands, I pay attention to the trees around me. It roots me in the now.
As a person who spends a lot of her time reading, writing, and teaching about endangered creatures and environments, I craved something hopeful.
When this pandemic is over, we hope to reopen our doors and offer comfort and sanctuary to our communities—as women of color so often have.