“Letter from Okinawa” describes my research and observations into the impact the U.S. military has had on the island, and tells the story of the Japanese government’s historical culpability by colonizing, controlling, and discriminating against the island.
What this essay tries to capture is both the wonder and the inherent horror in potty training.
This autoethnography is the first-hand experience and exposure of imposter syndrome from a new adjunct instructor's point of view.
"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 autoethnographic account explores the complex relationship between language and identity.
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.
"My Old Kentucky Homo," highlights my failure to assimilate into the community in which I still live, fourteen years later.
"From dancing at New York’s Metropolitan Opera to the Cow Palace in San Francisco, every venue taught me valuable lessons."
This lighthearted essay illustrates an experience I had in Singapore while doing research for a book I was writing about spirituality.
The process of seeking pregnancy alone (by necessity, not choice) showed me how limited reproductive rights in the U.S. truly are—even before the recent loss of Roe vs. Wade, that policy that had so shaped my generation’s belief in our bodily autonomy.
This particular piece, "What is Human, Remains" looks back at my first year as a teacher, and the unexpected activism in my students.
I wrote a study of my own faith, bankrupt as it may be, using story of my father, through the lens of Jewishness as I define it for myself.