Nov 10, 2020
As If You and I Agree
It’s relieving when you find someone who feels the same way you do about Covid-19 risk and public safety. But what about those who disagree?
It’s relieving when you find someone who feels the same way you do about Covid-19 risk and public safety. But what about those who disagree?
My German cockroach infestation, almost too good a pandemic allegory, forced me to confront the question of how much I could bear from New York City.
My heart is set on the Philly cheesesteak—the only one, I’m certain, to be found in India.
Sometimes, the word “belonging” feels more apt when snapped into two: be longing.
When your maternal grandmother dies from breast cancer, there’s this strange intersection between her health and your mother’s health and yours.
Dressing rooms were only special because of how we used them to quietly become human.
The problem, of course, is that the public toilet involves doing the private in public.
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.
“The borders don’t even matter,” Kartik said. “The British just made them up.”
When we decided to immigrate to the US from Iran, I thought I was ready to face any possible hard times ahead—but there was still so much I had to learn about living.
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.
The life of my Lolo and my family in the Philippines is a deep reminder that people live full lives there and places like it, across the globe.
Will the vertigo again become acute? Will the stress of this, or some root cause that spurs it, end my life before it might otherwise end?
The forces of air travel are virtually unknowable and immense, and we ourselves are small. I find a sort of peace in that.
As the plane began to taxi, the first line of the comic Riri Williams: Ironheart #1 danced in my mind: “I was never meant to fly.”
It’s Nigeria, after all. Hope is what keeps many alive. In plethora of sufferings and fears, prayers abound.
