Liars & PhDs

I am attached to the lie about why I didn't get my PhD. It's a pet lie. In my head it looks something like this: And it's more comfortable than the truth, which stings a little and is, well, embarrassing--as truths can sometimes be. The lie goes like this: I'd reached a point in my... Continue Reading →

Summertime

Summer descended on Atlanta. The air is thick, close, heavy. The sun shines gloriously, deceptively beautiful enough that you believe you need to shimmy into its radiance. Until you do and the heat sucks your breath right from your lungs. The reprieve of the shade soothes, though. And when a breeze deigns to grace Atlanta,... Continue Reading →

A few years ago, in the middle of the most heated, long-simmering, agonizing public situation I’ve ever been party to, a woman lobbed this doozy at me:  You aren’t God, you know. My initial response skewed heavy toward the snark (in my own head… or more accurately, much later in the shower—which is where I... Continue Reading →

4 Reasons I Took My Kid to March For Our Lives Atlanta

At 7 years old, my daughter, has already attended seven civil rights marches (if you count the five Pride parades she’s attended—and I do. Oh, I do.). I don’t come from a long line of activists. In fact, my parents always seem (not so secretly) appalled that I let Jane march through the streets holding signs, chanting, and generally being a rabble-rouser. But here’s the thing: Jane was born into activism.

Raising a Kid Who Sees (and Celebrates) Color

Our daughter’s start in the world was less than traditional--conceived with donor sperm and born to lesbian parents. Then, when Jane was 4, her Bobby (Jane’s non-biological parent), transitioned from female to male. Que the crash course in gender, acceptance, and celebrating who we are—even if who we are makes us a little different. 

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