"The Mostly True Story of a Part-time English Instructor (With Apologies to Sherman Alexie)," Porcupine Literary

      "I think writing is the most powerful of all the humanities. Through writing, we can reframe, refocus, and reevaluate our experiences as human beings in this world. The Latin root of “educate” is educere, which means to lead out. As an educator in the university, I have the opportunity to lead students back into their past lives through written language, to examine and honor that place that will begin their journey out into the larger world. But I have discovered no one is interested in where our students have been. The implicit consensus seems to be, perhaps if they are lucky, we can help some of them forget where they came from."

(Read the rest of this ESSAY here.)

       "Then the boys arrived.  Huey first, his stomach pushing out the top of his T-shirt and his Converse sneakers turned in slightly at the toes, mumbling a shy hello. George was next, solid and squarely built, leaning forward to lift my suitcase easily with one hand, his button-down shirt tucked neatly into his khakis. And Cameron, with his long thin hands lifting and moving in front of his body as he told a joke, his green eyes flashing with laughter under a tumult of blond curls. They circled me, these beautiful, strange creatures. It is then I felt it, the power of my own attraction: my breasts and hips, my carefully curled hair and black eyeliner, my shy smile and steady gaze—it was working.  These three boys were here, waiting for me to choose one of them. I was Goldilocks, drunk with the power of choice."

(Read the rest of this CREATIVE NON-FICTION piece here.)

     "Once my mother told me she wasn’t my mother, not really. 'Oh,' she said, 'I gave birth to you, but –' and here she waved her hand vaguely, the smoke from her cigarette forming a lazy s before dissolving in the air, 'mothering. You know. It never really was my thing.'"

(Read the rest of this FLASH FICTION story here.)