We were driving too fast. I held tight to the steering wheel and whipped around roads in the Wind River Reservation. Melvin navigated and narrated from the passenger seat.

Thinking back, it all started when I heard a story about the Great Sioux warrior Crazy Horse. In this story, the Shoshone had captured his brother and were transporting him through a place called Sweet Water. Crazy Horse jumped from a boulder and knocked his brother from his horse quickly cutting his bind so they both could escape into the darkness, all before the Shoshone war party had time to react.

I was an international human rights follow working to end child marriage in Massachusetts and learn of linkages between child marriage and female genital mutilation following the judgment, many articles and quotes certain advocates were published, but only one stood out, by an advocate from Massachusetts.

In January, 2024, I had the privilege of participating in a short play festival for students in a basement. In a bomb shelter. In the home of the ProEnglish Theatre and Drama School in Kyiv, Ukraine. Alex Borovenskyi, founder and artistic director, has a profound understanding from the front lines that no matter how dangerous the world is in Ukraine and beyond, theater must confront it and the arts and culture must provide hope and assurance that everyone will overcome the most dangerous paths of our journey to survive and live in peace.

I was in my home office scanning the literature to aid in developing a caregiving proposal. In front of me was a recent report restoring trust COVID 19 and the future of long term care

I didn't know I had hepatitis B until I got really sick.

I knew I needed treatment, but when I went to see the doctor back home, the doctor said, I'm sorry, nothing we can do for you.

This is in the Marshall Islands where I grew up.

My family studies classroom was in a busy hallway of the high school, and so at lunch break, I purposefully left my door open so that students could drop in if they wanted. Adolescence is a difficult time with teenagers experimenting with new behaviors which often resulted in serious things.

Growing up, I thought each generation has its own wars. Mine was Vietnam. I had questions. What had it done to deserve destruction more personally?

I pressed the red end call button late on Friday, I had finally reached the CPS worker after blowing up her phone for three days. It's better than waiting for the chips to fall.

I am meeting with Tanisha at the library. We find a table in the back for more privacy. Despite being homeless, Tanisha never appears stressed and always has a smile on her face, which always impressed me.

I was five years old when I made a major life decision. I wanted to be a nurse. I was fascinated by nurses in their crisp white uniforms, comforting their patients. Florence Nightingale and Clara Barton were my heroes. When asked why I wanted to be a nurse, I answered similar to most of my nurse colleagues, “I want to help people”. In my young mind, I didn’t really know what that meant exactly, holding on to my romantic notions of nurses.

Days before local temperatures are predicted to hit 20 degrees or less during the night a call for volunteers goes out via email. Anyone can sign up to sit one or more three hour shifts. Likewise, word is out on the street. Anyone can show up, anytime between 8pm and 8am. No metal detectors, no drug or behavior screenings. No questions asked. You’re cold, you’re in.

I heard you before I saw the look on your faces,

cowbells jingling, or maybe it was the clang of a pot, lid on a tin can.

These two just got married, a lone friend Harold your union,

Transformation. The Collins Dictionary defines transformation as a complete change in appearance or character of something or someone, especially so that the thing or person is improved.

Transformation. The Collins Dictionary defines transformation as a complete change in appearance or character of something or someone, especially so that the thing or person is improved.

I heard you before I saw the look on your faces,

cowbells jingling, or maybe it was the clang of a pot, lid on a tin can.

These two just got married, a lone friend Harold your union,

There were always subtle signs that I was different from the other girls. When I was 13 years old, I finally found the words to describe my feelings. I sat outside with my father on a beautiful fall New England day, Dad, I'm transgender.

The year is 2013

I am almost 18 years old.

The atmosphere is heavy with tension.

My grandmother enters my room with an icy expression on her face,

from woman to woman.

I sit in a room with others, each working in their own spaces on abolitionism and the rights of transgender people. We are discussing Dean Spade's 'Normal Life.'

She lived alone, you know. No family, they say… An estranged daughter somewhere maybe, they say… So sad, they say