It was several years before I joined her Dominican family, when I found myself in the backseat of a bigot.
“I’m no expert,” she reminded me for the second time in the conversation, “but life used to be about what you did for other people.”
At a lecture, presentation, orientation, whatever, quietly speed tapping notes into a word-processing app on my phone.
I walked into the NJ Peace Action annual dinner, a notebook in my hand, my head full of activism.
If this presidency were an animal it would be bleeding from a few serious wounds right now.
“Someday you will write a book about everything you’ve been though,” she said, “and that book will exorcise a lot of your demons.”