Where are you from?

I’m sure you’re familiar with this dynamic. Someone asks someone else where they are from only to have them launch into a monologue about the city they were born in, where they were raised, where they call home now, and the country their parents moved here from.

Why do we ask this question and assume simple answer? Who is from just one place? Who can distill their entire essence into one geographical location and satisfy the almighty question?

I’m from Missouri. St. Louis, Missouri. And I’m from much more than that, too.

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Street Dogs

I spent five weeks in Guatemala a few summers ago and I lived with a family. This meant I stayed up the hill from all the hotels and bed and breakfasts. My home was a cinderblock house with an outdoor kitchen that sat in an alleyway surrounded by other homes made of cement, wood and corrugated metal.

From the second story of the house, you could see a beautiful view of San Pedro, the town, and the houses nearby. On my first night there, I looked out from the second story up the mountain and saw something shocking. This poem is about that experience and the little moments that teach you the most.

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Wilderness & Wildness

I’m not sure if it’s just the time of year… but I’ve recently been thinking a lot about nature. What is nature? Is my gravel-filled back yard/parking lot nature? Am I?

In a course last semester, I learned about social constructionism. Today, I think about how that idea connects to nature.

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7 Ways I Cheated While Living in a Sustainable Living Community

Another flash writing! This is responding to a prompt to write about a time that I failed at something. I chose to write about the year I spent living with 5 other people in a big old house we called Sustainahouse. It was an experiment in sustainable living… and I’m not sure it succeeded.

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it’s like riding a bike

Flash writing is a writing technique where you find a prompt, and then write a quick response, spending no more than 10 or 20 minutes on your piece. It’s a way to force yourself to practice writing, to try new things, and to not get caught up in the headspace that writing can create.

This is a flash writing piece I wrote for a prompt about describing actions. It’s about riding my bike.

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listening to the voice inside her chest

I spend a lot of time talking on the phone as a reporter. I talk on the phone to strangers, I listen to other people talk on the phone. And I’ve realized that I really like it.There’s something comforting to me about having the receiver next to my ear or the one-sided exchange I overhear.

This is the beginnings of a piece where I explore the beginning of this love. It all starts with my mom.

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