Danith and I have known each other for over thirty years, but we are in possession of only one photograph of us together in our much younger years. In it, I am still in high school. We are fishing from a pier at night, sitting on a concrete wall, either of us grasping a rod, … Continue reading
This I believe: I am my daughter’s mother. I’ve always recognized that I live a much easier life than many. My native country endured a civil war, I was born amidst it, but I didn’t suffer through it. Instead, my existence—my incessant crying and hunger pangs—put others around me at risk. Still, I didn’t show … Continue reading
The night before I was to deliver our daughter, Danith turned to me in bed and said that he would be sure to take pictures of her for me. I said that I would rather he didn’t. He said that one day I would want pictures. I rested my hands on my belly that had … Continue reading
I wanted to show our students Akeelah and the Bee, so a coworker loaned me her copy of the movie. I am preparing for today’s class by testing out the DVD to make sure it will play without a hitch later. My fingernail pushes into the small rectangular button located on the side of my … Continue reading
The girls from the high school track team are sitting at their own round tables, separated from their parents. I am sitting at a table with some of their parents. The party favors that I had tied up with navy blue and gold ribbons help to add some color, but other than them, the white linen-tables … Continue reading
