I've been thinking today about Milton Burke, AP Literature teacher at Fayetteville High School, in Arkansas.I had wanted so much to impress him; to receive his assurance that I was a good student; to earn an A in his class. But 4th hour was when the school resource officer always came to take me out … Continue reading What’s Your Real Story?
I'll begin by sharing my response to a friend, after she sent me the article linked here, "Call It what It Is – A Coup": "Speaking the truth about what is happening is difficult and unpleasant. Hearing the truth is also difficult and unpleasant. But the longer we fail to recognize the current situation for … Continue reading Parts 3 & 4: What Do I Do Now? And, Aren’t the Democrats Gonna Do Something?
I hate everything about this, Except the color blue Which is my favorite, But they didn't even pick a good blue,
How do you expect anyone to believe your party supports bodily autonomy, freedom, and minding your own damn business when you're punching down at JD Vance for reasons that have nothing to do with his policies and leadership decisions?
But Céline Dion made an impact on my life that transcends performance, and it is more clearly visible in the 1997 performance below than the her solo tonight at the Olympics. Watching the old performance this evening, I wept.
I know how to love Arkansas through this identity crisis, because like my own identity crisis, self-hatred doesn't accurately represent who Arkansas is.
Kelsey Lou and sister Karly Lynn must team up to protect one another against the forces of Patriarchy encroaching on their garden, invading their home, and squashing their hopes for real romance – or their futures – to ever blossom.
Kelsey Lou felt the weight of this truth, sittin' beside Mr. Bybee smackin' dip under his lip in American History. Even though he was asking for her homework, not sex, it felt the same. Fact was, she'd said no, and he wouldn't take the answer she gave him.
The Ozarks produced some of the finest, most inspiring folks theyd've ever met, just as it had also beaten and stripped them of their life's potential in the same swift stroke of God's paintbrush, the very moment God seen fit to place them in the U.S. South on the divine canvas of possibilities.
The morning air was foggy enough to see it wasn't still, and still enough to not see anything at all beyond the cloud. Looking out the upstairs bedroom window, Kelsey Lou Faye tapped her fingers against her thigh without any particular rhythm. She knew the sun was up ‘cause the fog was gray instead of black, but there was no knowin’ how long now it'd be before Ma'd wake up and start makin’ the whole family wish they'd died in their sleep.
The Front Porch 