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Tag Archives: Andy Stallings
I was white, and straight, and male, and middle-class, suspicious of every instance of my own comfort and discomfort. Happy then in the here and gone, but now. The boy who was, then and later, my friend in the neighborhood, … Continue reading
“Take a warm-up life,” said the life coach. Some were buying second houses, some remodeling interiors for sport. A damnable unit of affluence and growth, entirely ours. A signature being, in every sense, a measure. But of six teenagers in … Continue reading
But still I was white, and straight, and male, and middle-class. I understood that forgiveness was a privilege extending from my threatening ask. Just ask any sentence I’ve ever written. If it’s flush with connotation I can’t stand here, and … Continue reading
For an hour, maybe more, they talked in the living room about misogyny and rape culture. Events unfolded from there with both hitch and restraint. Morality comes down to a few moments when you can’t not act. The nightmare, as … Continue reading
And all along I was white, and straight, and male, and middle-class. That was experience, that meal at the diner, that breath of exhaust. The morning dew was fresh, early to rise in the mowing of shaggy meadowlands. Again I … Continue reading