A Little Giant Victory

giantsTo write about anything right now other than the election and its aftermath seems small and irrelevant to me. It’s felt that way for a while, so I let the blog go dark. Sure, I have some thoughts about the current state of the union, but mine wouldn’t be anything other than another voice bouncing around in the echo chamber. I am profoundly sad and very scared. Nothing original.

Since the election I haven’t written a thing.

But this morning I got up and had a thought: the only way to move on is to move on. Which for me is to write. That’s what I do. I tell stories. I believe in the power of storytelling—in its ability to take you from one place to another—and that remains true, even in a world that’s been turned upside-down.

There’s a story that I’ve been wanting to tell—a small one, that doesn’t involve any apocalyptic predictions or course-correcting diagnoses for the world. It’s just about this one perfect day I had last month, and it won’t unwind the clock or make me any less scared about where this country is headed.

But I’m going to tell it anyway because it’s all I know how to do. Continue reading




Alexandra Petri was dead-on when she called the first presidential debate “the mansplaining Olympics.” We watched as Donald Trump continuously interrupted and patronized Hillary Clinton, embodying the very essence of what it means to mansplain. He was that awful uncle everyone tries to stay away from at Thanksgiving dinner.

And it got me thinking about some other mansplaining that I’ve noticed recently.

As the country descends further and further into Trump-related madness, I’ve noticed a pattern emerge on cable news shows, whereby men on the left have decided that when it comes to female Trump supporters, mansplaining is the only way to get through to them. I’ve watched as they have interrupted, condescended to, and outright laughed in these women’s faces—and the truth is I haven’t cared. Actually, until recently, I haven’t even really noticed. Continue reading