Through these reflections on heritage, I delve into being a child of parents who immigrated from the Bronx to a suburban lifestyle.
"My parents drank wine with dinner every night. There’s nothing remarkable about that, but to a kid growing up in Mid-Missouri it was weird."
This piece on hair describes how ideas of what is and is not fashionable, as depicted in popular media, can indelibly affect one’s self-perception and identity.
"Have you ever crossed the desert in a circus train? I took such a detour—by choice— in 1978 when I hung up my pointe shoes to ride an elephant named Peggy."
"Horse, Therapy is a story of my own experience and is a commentary on trauma, both in animals and humans."
Nothing prepared me for the xenophobia and homophobia I would encounter in Italy. No one warned me how to avoid becoming their victim
However, this autoethnographic piece helped me recognize the importance of levity even when the intellectual content is heavy.
This work is part of a larger ethnography of scars, one that addresses the intersection medicine, religion, and body politics in (among other places) Nebraska.
My essay tells my life story in relation to a specific moment in the history of American women’s access to abortion and reproductive justice.
This autoethnography is the first-hand experience and exposure of imposter syndrome from a new adjunct instructor's point of view.
This piece works to contextualize aging in the queer community, the complexities of developing trends in spectacle versus intimacy, the depth and shallow natures that are found in performance, as well as the fear and hope that can be found as a queer person.
Jesus and Fentanyl: A Mortician's Perspective is actually thoughts from a funeral director and also an ode to an overdose victim.