Words matter or word smatter? You decide.
The other day I was talking to a friend who has devoted a good deal of her life to the ideals of the civil rights movement. She spent most of her teaching career working with inner city kids, leading classrooms of students who didn't look a thing like her when others were too scared or... Continue Reading →
John Lucia / CC BY (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0) Since I started writing again, I've purposely avoided tackling the topics of the moment: COVID, racism, civil unrest. There's already so much being written on all sides that I feared my voice would just add to the confusion. And to be honest, it's safer. It doesn't feel right, though.... Continue Reading →
I hate to be wrong. As much as I love to be right (who doesn't?), I hate to be wrong even more. I have lots of reasons for this, but since they revolve around my self-psychoanalysis, I'll spare you the details. Just know that I viscerally hate to be wrong. Imagine, then, the internal turmoil... Continue Reading →
Wordsmatter 