My granddaddy on my father’s side had klan ties. He wasn’t blood related, my dad never knew his real father, and somehow that makes me feel better, as if blood has anything to do with the way we’re blinded by hate and lies and all the separating we do when we make people less than or other. I’ve come to know that blood is the only thing that sets us free but that’s another story. Needless to say, I never really knew him. My dad was born into the dirty south in the 1950s. He was threadbare …
story
Books and the Poverty of Soul
I've been thinking about books a lot lately. Maybe it's because I'm writing my own and as the chapters take shape, I think of what this story will become. I think of the hopes I have for it in the world. My mother is a book lover and I am every bit her daughter. I am also my father's girl and he was a storyteller all of his days, and in those ways of nature and nurture, writing came as naturally as turning a page or gathering a small group to listen to a tale. I was writing before I …
On Red Lipstick and Lady Danger: A She Loves Post
I. Mac makes my favorite red lipstick. I twist it from the bullet and it rises up in brazen scarlet and smears across my lips. Lady Danger on my lips is holy rebellion. I smack them together and lean into the mirror. I see all of me. I am a biracial Asian American woman, and I am beautiful, I am worthy of being seen. The bravado to believe it is something I fight for every day. These lips were created to speak truth. I'm over at She Loves today sharing on Red Lips, Lady Danger, and Holy …
