I’m like Garfield, just different, she says as she pulls on Freddie Mercury’s orange fur, baiting him. I like lasagna, but I hate Sundays. She laughs as Freddie pounces. I don’t bother disciplining her about the cat again. Their love is wild and free-spirited. Plus, she likes the way he makes her look like a … Continue reading A Million Shades of Green
I was too young then… too small and insignificant to understand what bravery looks like… to know the pain of disbelief… I was too young to see her… too young to be moved to act on her behalf. I was not young enough to escape her fate. 9,853 days should be long enough to figure this … Continue reading Anita Hill, Christine Blasey Ford, and me
This is a sacred space. It is my quiet - where my thoughts flow across a clean, white screen with no smudges and smears. It is a private space with a door opening to the outside allowing others to peek in within the safety of words drawing boundaries with their intimacy. I write boldly about … Continue reading Taking a Stand for Sarah Tuttle-Singer
There is a soundtrack to my life. There are an endless amount of lyrics and tunes stored in my brain and the second something happens that triggers a feeling, a song begins to play. Today, I heard the White Lion ballad stirring around as I listened to an audio clip of children crying out for … Continue reading When the Children Cry – Rise Up!
My grandmother ran out of Poland towards Russia with only the summer clothes she was wearing and spent the next five years seeking warmth in a world that had frozen over. I was raised on her story, as well as all the stories of my generation’s grandparents. We were their proof that it had been … Continue reading Dry eyes
On December 1, 2001, my husband stood on an unfamiliar street in the heart of an unfamiliar country. He had just turned eighteen and his life was shit. He just wanted a little something to numb the pain. This was the place to be, he was told. Here was the action. By day, a bustling … Continue reading When Terrorists Die
We’re going to the US in two weeks. It’s a big trip. It’s a huge trip. We haven’t been there for three years and when we left last time we were a family of three. When we went to get our son’s Report of Birth at the US embassy the consular clapped as she declared … Continue reading Jonathan Pollard and a Coloring Book
Back in September, I wrote a post about the situation here in Beit Shemesh. I wrote mainly out of frustration with my new hometown, and because mothers were bringing politics to the park. I responded to a conversation held in front of children on this blog, although looking back maybe I should have kept my … Continue reading Why Beit Shemesh Means Nothing To Me