Cancer, or the Day God Was Sick
There’s no way to talk or write about illness; none that is good enough, anyway.
Sometimes it just felt like there wasn’t much to say. Sometimes it felt like the right words to say weren’t there.
Sick, in a Grieving Way
That was when I turned to Harvard & The Legacy of Slavery Report. Reading it made me feel like I was having a spiritual heart attack.
Harvard and Me Introspection
The line between Harvard and me becomes ever more murky, and harder to trace. I want to know where it is, where Harvard stops and where I begin.
I started a job at a local independent bookstore. Work didn’t fix my loneliness, though I’d secretly hoped it would.
I wondered, aside from the fever, what had caused me to empathize so fully, to transplant my selfhood into Anna? And even more troubling — why had I enjoyed it, the metallic shuddering, the billowing steam, the overwhelming sense that everything was about to end?
It was the first time anyone had acknowledged we were doing the work of grown-ups, that we could change our peers’ lives. Editing, arbitrating, and publishing meant playing God while still a child.
Tess Journalism Introspection
Journalism hooked me not with the first headline that was by me, but with the one that was about me.
Walking in Step
For the previous year or so, I’d been oscillating about whether or not to serve an 18-month mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
On Multicultural London English and the Power of Code Switching
Code switching in the past had helped me to better connect with people from any and every background; why should this new environment be any different?
Leaving the Church, Keeping Its Ties
I have no idea why I chose to go back to Utah. When my parents called me a few weeks earlier and asked if I wanted a ticket, I said yes on autopilot. Later, I felt dishonest. I was embarrassed to be flying home for a religion I was supposed to have completely disavowed.