Visiting the cemetery in Princeton was a Gothic, rain-soaked quest. The cemetery guy was kind but busy and showed me on a map where my parents’ and sister’s headstones were. I had visited my sister’s grave as often as possible but moving far away had made it hard. At thirty-two she had died before I could tell her so many things.
Read MoreMy son got married last weekend to a wonderful person. The celebration was joyous and funny, and I did not, as I feared cry more than I might because he was glowing with happiness and that has been my entire goal in life when I knew he was going to be born, let him be happy. Help him be happy. Let him find his own happiness. The log line on me as a child was that I was very cheerful until I wasn’t and then the temper tantrums were supposedly epic.
Read MoreI left the Barbie movie feeling slightly ill. Even though there were amusing moments, overall, it felt like an insult to women who have experienced sexual and physical violence at the hands of men. Just like The Help and The Secret Life of Bees made racism seem survivable, Barbie presented men’s insecurities and anger in a way that undercut the truth. Uncle Tom’s Children by Richard Wright taught me about lynching, and my experiences of rape and physical abuse have made it impossible for me to view men’s fear and hatred of women as benign. Yes, Ken was primarily a joke, but when someone holds you down and explains that you are being raped because you are smart and beautiful, someone much stronger than you who is angry because you flirted with another man, someone who calls you terrible names and makes your first time the stuff of nightmares and shame, you have a hard time laughing.
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