This is the truth I know: That your definition of me is incomplete, whatever stereotypes I inhabit. I am struggling to reconcile these simultaneous, paradoxical sensations of rage and defeat. I am struggling to reconcile the lesson of my youth—that I could be anything!—with the obvious, systemic, condoned, sanctioned marginalization of my voice. My faith… Continue reading Dark Days, Parables, and Pride
Galleries
Content in Half
I am most content in half-light when knitted shadow gives better cover, and I can claim my contours without reprobation from full sun. I’m less disposed to wonder at the disappearing act my eyes seem lately to perform—a caustic partner for a smile. Instead, I will recline in the very definition of a chin or… Continue reading Content in Half
Sympathy to the Crow
Today, against greenest June fields I watched a red-winged blackbird chase a crow then retreat to safer branches. At some distance, it appeared the crow had something in its beak and I wondered what offense had been levied to warrant such defense, and whether the blackbird sang now in victory or mourning. You’d later learn,… Continue reading Sympathy to the Crow
caroline ridgway 