Health
Guest Post by Megan Killinger: Lessons From The Spectrum
This personal narrative was written by Megan Killinger, a student in one of my Composition-101 classes during the Fall-Winter 2010 semester….
Guest Post by Leanna Best: Lessons From Javan
This piece was written by Leanna Best, a student in one of my Composition-101 classes held at Monroe Community College during the Fall-Winter 2010 semester….
Curly Girly Goes Simply Smooth
As she stood behind me in her black and white polka-dotted smock with skinny red trim, Shauna applied the chemicals. Wearing short black gloves that stopped just above her wrists, she painted and combed, making sure to coat every single strand, fussing over my tresses the way no-one has ever fussed before. She was serious about this procedure….
Making Peace With Reading Glasses
I have to admit, I feel notably less sexy with my glasses on. I’m sorry, but it is true. I would rather look smokin’ hot in my red dress and stumble into the dessert table at somebody’s wedding than wear my glasses. And I don’t need them for distance, so I can’t wear contact lenses — and I am not a good candidate for LASIK, so you can stop right there with those suggestions. I am simply a latent hyperope. There is nothing for me right now except readers….
Turn Down The Noise
I cannot tell you how many times I have sat in the halls at the community college where I work, and have heard students approach before I have ever seen them coming. So many of them wear their ear buds between classes, to get from point A to point B, I have often thought the constant noise has to be having some kind of impact on their hearing.
Turns out, it is….
What My Fingernails Know
When every fingernail on both of my hands has broken, I know it for sure: Summer is over. It happens to me every year over a two to three-day period. It’s a physical thing; parts of me grow brittle and fall off. Long before the leaves ever change to yellow or orange, my body knows: Autumn is in the house….
Toni Flores: A Woman Who Opened Minds
I remember feeling terribly flattered that this woman, this icon, this goddess with long black hair, could have chosen anyone to watch her children – but she chose me. I felt this responsibility, this honor, as I arrived at Toni’s house. Her house was a little dark inside, but it was immediately obvious to me that her house epitomized her. Everything felt casual. Comfortable. There were no areas that were “off-limits” to the kids. There were artifacts – treasures – from her numerous trips to Mexico scattered about, and blankets and lots of throw pillows. And books and books and books. She was who I wanted to be when I grew up….