You may be looking at this page and wondering why we’ve claimed a little spot for ourselves. Why not just share our writing on the same page as the other pieces we’re bringing you? After all, we’re all writers here, right? If I tried to summarize it in one word, I’d probably say, “Accountability.” That…
Tag: Erika
Writer’s Block: Bad Days are Easier
By Erika Grumet I’ve been staring at blank pages for days, deadlines lurking right around the corner on my calendar… wandering between in a funk because I can’t think of what to write about and Kermit-arm-flailing panic that the words are never going to come back. I don’t exactly think of it as “writer’s block”…
Real Isn’t How You Were Made, It’s Something That Happens to You
The other night, while I was trying to get some writing done, and really struggling, and had gone through all of my usual techniques for getting my head into the right place, I took a break, and stuck this little note to my keyboard. I’ve talked a lot about not being a “real writer.” I’ve…
I’m Queer. Please Pass the Peas?
By Erika Grumet A few weeks ago, a thirteen year old I know showed up at my house wearing a t-shirt that read:“Bisexual Trash Panda.” Even before I was a parent, I knew adolescent sexuality pretty well–years of teaching about HIV and STIs, contraception and LGBTQ101 gave me a lens into that topic long…
I’m Going to Use the R-Word (& it’s okay if you do, too)
On an October night, twenty seven years ago, I was attacked.On an October night, twenty seven years ago, I was victimized.On an October night, twenty seven years ago, I was sexually assaulted.On an October night, twenty seven years ago, I was raped. It’s all the same night. It’s all the same thing, isn’t it? Even…
The Story I Never Told my Grandmother
My grandmother was known for entertaining guests; in fact, the stone at her grave makes note of her skill as a hostess. I recall standing in the kitchen with my mother, while we were preparing the house to sit shiva* for her. I was busy getting the table organized, setting up coffee, and making sure…
What it Means to Ban a Book
“Censorship reflects a society’s lack of confidence in itself.” The only book my parents ever took away from me was Catcher in the Rye. There are a lot of reasons someone might want to take that book away from a child. But none of those were the reasons my parents confiscated it from me. My…
Teaching my Kid about September 11
September 11, 2001 was a bright, clear, sunny morning. Washington DC doesn’t let you forget it was built on a swamp, and it was a morning where I remember appreciating the impending change of seasons, and feeling that the oppressive summer humidity was fading. There wasn’t anything all that unusual about the day. Just little…
Dismantling Writer’s Block with Friends
My younger kid has always been a big fan of Snoopy. When she was six months old, my sister gave her a stuffed Snoopy puppet, who became known as Puppy, and became her lovie. Puppy is Real to us, just like the Velveteen Rabbit is Real to his boy. Asking Puppy to help do things…
The View from the Wheelchair
In college, one of my friends used to say “dancing is a vertical expression of a horizontal desire.” We would go dancing at least once a week, almost every Saturday night was reserved for going to Tracks, a big gay dance club in Washington DC. Some weeks, when money was tighter, we’d go early, when…