America, A Problem to Puzzle Through

On second thought, I do have something more to say. Because there is a need for a record, a kind of accounting of all these becomings, unfolding into newer versions of Maria, reconciling parts of old me with new me. I have captured numerous of my changes in private journals and notes for future publications….

America, Sometimes You Break My Heart

1. Unless one is born into an interracial family, most of us can remember the first occasions when we mingled with others outside of our race. I had no significant experience with non-black people until my college years. Of course, there were casual exchanges during my childhood and teenage years with teachers, a few camp…

At Times Like These, I Hold My Breath

This morning while reading a memoir by a popular author, I came across the word nigger. My kind of book. A white writer who is honest in their writing. As I read, I tried to pay attention to my feelings. The writer wasn’t being hateful or ignorant. Instead, the writer was relaying an overheard conversation,…