Page one of a writing assignment in 1988.
This was how my 17-year old brain thought when given a writing assignment in English class. The assignment was to describe a room using as many adjectives as possible, but without making it sound like shit. I chose my bedroom, though the bits about the drum set were in my mind. It was turned in on March 4, 1988. I thought I was edgy and cool then because no one seemed to understand what I was writing. I got an A. That’s all that mattered at the time.
They always come at you sideways. The 19th amendment to the U.S. Constitution gave women the right to vote. Republicans have been pushing since early 2025 to get the SAVE Act passed. It would disenfranchise millions of people, but I want to focus on women in particular.
Irene, left, and Lori celebrate Christmas c. 1973 or 1974.
On Saturday, while I was making myself a chicken chimichanga, my nephew texted to let me know my sister had passed away.
At the beginning of each week, I make a list of goals. Sometimes, they are small. Most of January was scrapped because I couldn’t sleep. Waking up from flashbacks is horrifying enough, but at least I know what they are now and can process a little and try to get some more rest. The constant headache from no sleep is aggravating. Not being able to concentrate due to sleep deprivation is, well, tiresome.
Poverty-related trauma isn’t nice or fun or quirky. When people think being poor is just a quirky thing you do, it creates a narrative where you are poor because of your own personal failures and not because of circumstances out of your control.
Every year, at the end of November, I begin to think about how I’d like my next year to look while reflecting on where I’ve been and the progress I’ve made. This year, 2025 threw me a few major curveballs.
Linotype machines, Anthony Hordern and Sons department store, c. 1935, gelatin silver print, from Anthony Hordern and Sons pictorial collection.
My apologies for being late this month with this post. If you read my post “October wins, but by less of a margin,” you understand why. Now onto three documentaries which helped keep me going.
The screaming woke me up. It took several moments for me to determine the screaming was coming from inside my head. It happens. It is part of my trauma. It is part of a flashback. It gets worse, like everything else in October.
The weather is starting cool off. Fall is here. What can you do on a chilly night? My grandmother always taught me to keep learning. You don’t have to be in school to continue to educate yourself. As such, here are a few documentaries I think are worthwhile to check out.
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