In which I tell you how this fundraiser came to be, tell you where we’ve ended up, and discuss what happens next.
Blooming love for my parents; watching that love die; blooming to love them again
We owe the children of this world, including our childhood selves, lasting reproductive justice.
An open letter to everyone exhausted by the thought of tomorrow.
Ismatu Gwendolyn, clinical social worker and former impoverished child, doubles down on the ugly (and obvious) truth of why poverty exists in the first place.
Hello, internet friends!
The Substack app is still really new and doesn’t let me do anything fancy. It’s just you and me and words; it reminds me of text edit notes on the family computers. A Quarry of Thoughtless Ponderments is a tradition that I started in many