We were the class of 1982
I invoke my stories with strained fondness, and some hope, but mostly I write because it feels necessary—not so much to remember, but instead to draw out, in other terms and for other ends, our sexist, violent youth. We need better forms and fora to make sense of our woodsies and frat parties; we need better conversations, held outside the patriarchal places where we started, and where the old rules still hold.
Published in MS blog, October 13, 2018
Topics: Highlight | Reviews and Journalistic Writing | Works from 2018 |