I'm still sad about this chilling encounter.
Ballet was an alternate universe. It was the complete opposite of what I experienced at school.
In the world to come/I will see again my four grandparents...
We have to delay going home. There waits responsibility. And sometimes the parents are not so perfect with that kind of thing.
Someone you know is battling for their soul. Are we ready to get real?
My writing tends towards intimate self-disclosure. It's exhilarating, terrifying, and dangerous for me. I hope it promotes growth and change.
I'm suspicious of the people on the subway asking for charity, but I try to tell myself what Judaism tells me: It's not my job to question whether or not they deserve it.
Why we need to reclaim the most important conversation we could ever have with our chidren.
