Patriotic Blues
I come from a family of eight kids. When we get together we sing, usually parodies aimed at one sibling or another. But when I was about nine years old, my sister Liz (2 years older) and I composed a song that stemmed from a deep love of country. In the true American tradition, we wrote a protest song. We have our parents to thank for that.
In an age of immigration bans and border walls, it’s easy to see the world through an “us versus them” lens. But sometimes all it takes is a fleeting incident to alter one’s world view.
When I was seven and traveling through India with my family, a bag of taffy helped me recognize the place of privilege I hold as a white, middle-class American. But that candy also helped me feel a kinship to other children. Here’s my tale of discovering the taste of shared humanity. Read more
I like to hang out in cemeteries. The older and creepier, the better.
It’s October—Halloween month—a time when cemeteries get a bad rap. But as a historian and writer, I’d like to offer a view of cemeteries unmaligned. Not only are graveyards where our beloveds rest for eternity, but they’re also where you can find both your historical roots and fodder for your muse. Read more