“First of all, you need to relax,” Mom said. She put her hand on Rita’s wrist. “Calm down. Never hold a paring knife like you want to kill someone. It’s not a weapon. It’s an instrument. You need to learn that. Maybe someday you’ll want to become a surgeon.”
I’ve spent my entire life astounded by the magic of music, appreciating everything from opera and Gregorian chant to bluegrass and every kind of jazz there is. But what exactly is being touched in us and inspired when we listen […]
Our national conversation about gender identity is one big miscommunication
I had a friend in junior high whose father and uncle decided they’d had enough of his long hair (beautiful, silken, golden wheat-colored, cascading well below his shoulders). They trapped him in the bathroom one Sunday night, held him against […]
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