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I experienced a very uncomfortable moment with a class of mine, just a few weeks ago. We were discussing race and ethnicity, and I began - as I often do with topics like this - by exploring my student...
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I used to look at my life in terms of decades. How was I going to make my mark with each decade? That was easy until I retired and left me wondering what my 60s would bring as a decade. It had certainly started out brilliantly with my first grandchild being born on my 60th birthday.
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I would never be so arrogant to say I have all the answers and of course the topic of "What makes someone a writer" is incredibly subjective, but in my experience, there are many signs informing you that you are indeed destined to to string words together during your time on this blue and green orb. Here are seven of them.
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Five books a week? Many of my friends are shocked that I can get through so many. "I wish! I simply don't have the time," many of them say... If you've binge watched even one Netflix series, you've had time to read. If you've been on Facebook scrolling through posts from a month ago, you've had time to read.
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What if narcissism isn't what we assume it is? Yes, narcissists project an über-confident, egotistical image but most researchers believe this is merely a smokescreen to disguise extremely low or even non-existent self-esteem. I thought why not demonstrate it because actions speak louder than words.
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I was 14 and shocked by all the criticisms suddenly blind-siding me. They ranged from making me believe I was an (almost) slut to something as vague as, "Shake my hand and commit to 'trying harder.'" To this day I wonder how much harder I could try. I already had a 4.0 GPA.
It was an ordinary summer day. People were milling on the main thoroughfare, bikes zig-zagging through traffic, cafés and pubs spilling onto the sidewalk, patrons sipping their way through a lazy Friday afternoon. We were ordinary that day too. Just another family, managing the hectic jumble of kids' lessons, bills, our careers, endless streams of birthday parties, too little sleep and the occasional date night out. But it was all shattered with a single word: autism.
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All any of us wants is to be seen and to be heard. This longing is at the core of our human beingness. Most never get the opportunity to share their life story in a way that impacts many. Why some peo...
I try to remember to admire the things I love about myself, to flirt if I want to, to smile for no reason at all. I remember that, like Dr. Angelou said, "I have a certain way of being in this world, and I shall not, I shall not be moved." I remember that in the end, always in the end, it's myself I answer to at the end of the day.
To many people with depression, Sadness is a physical place, and I'm someone who lived there for many years and was able to make the journey back. That's why reading this book, by Anne Theriault of The Belle Jar Blog, resonates with me so much. Everyone's experience is different, but the depths of depression are pretty much the same no matter how you get there.
There is a little book in stores this holiday season called ish. And this little picture book written by Peter H. Reynold has crossed my path several times throughout the fall- popping up in casual co...