Writing With Abandon
Reflections and ramblings about life as an educator, writer, reader, knitter, and over-thinker. Trying to do the writing only I can do.
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Be sweet to me, baby I want to believe in you I want to believe in something The music pours out of my new headphones, enveloping me in its rhythm. Michelle from Japanese Breakfast is a “pop genius,” Greg says. (She’s also a great writer — if you haven’t read her memoir, Crying in H…
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For the past few years, I’ve been lucky to be able to watch the sunset from my apartment. I don’t often get to watch the sunrise, though. As Miami enters its wet season, the heat and humidity greet you as you walk outside, intensifying as soon as the sun starts to hit the pavement. I’ve…
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Today after eating with Kim and Ana and talking about reader’s workshop and writing conferences, I fell into a deep “I’m a terrible teacher” mindset. “I haven’t conferenced. I’ve sucked at reading their work,” I texted Ana. “And now I feel bad that they’re not reading daily, but we can’t change the routine again this…
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What I had hoped for today’s slice was a reflection on how our new and improved read aloud routine was going. On Friday afternoon, Kim and I met with Ana for an impromptu coaching session to rethink interactive read aloud and how to make it work better for us. We’d taken a month-long hiatus what…
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When my mom’s dad passed away, at 100 years old, my mom and her siblings went to his apartment to take stock of what he had and see if any of the grandchildren would want anything. She sent us files organized by room and type of item (silver, glass, artwork, furniture, etc.) and a spreadsheet…
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It’s Saturday evening and I’m watching the sun set behind the buildings across from mine. I was thinking about what to write for my last slice of the Slice of Life Story Challenge 2024, feeling both a sense of accomplishment/relief (one less item on the daily to-do list!) and also sadness, as slicing has become…
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I think the plunger is too big, I text. It isn’t sealing and keeps flipping on itself. No just keep trying it, my dad replies. I send a photo. That is what they do. That airpocket that forms is what pushes the shit thru. I am standing in my bathroom in my underwear. It’s 9:35…
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“No sé cómo arreglarlo,” el hombre mayor dice, exasperado. No tiene mucho pelo, pero lo que tiene es blanco-gris, y lleva un bigote. El hombre frente él tiene mi edad, pienso, con pelo rubio y un bigote. Tomo otro trago de mi agua de coco, y trato de concentrar mis ojos en mi libro. Pero…
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“Have you tried that? Is it good?” The cashier at Trader Joe’s, a young 20s-something woman with dark hair and blue eyeliner pointed to the Spicy Peanutty Noodle Bowl with Chicken that I get every time I go. “Yeah! I like it,” I replied. “Is it very spicy or not too bad?” “I’d say it’s…
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I remember when Miami started feeling like home. It was after winter break my first year here, when I left New York and arrived back in the heat and humidity, going straight to the pool to thaw. I hadn’t wanted to move to Miami, not really. I had done it for us, because we had…
Writing With Abandon 