Except for the Cancer I’m Fine
"Is disease something we’re born with and prone to, or the result of a life lived in a place that can make anyone sick?”
"Is disease something we’re born with and prone to, or the result of a life lived in a place that can make anyone sick?”
In the twentieth century, dams transformed the landscape of Appalachia. What was lost in the process?
"In Detroit we are always planting trees."
On generational migration and identity in the Midwest.
Detroit, the tar sands, and burying my father in toxic ground.
"Does land have a memory?"
Since the early twentieth century, the area has been a safe haven for Latinx—including my family.
He says, it was near midnight, a cargo run/on second shift--from Indy to some hamlet flung
Remembering the Ohio State Penitentiary Hurricanes—and the day my father played against them in 1965.
Remembering the life and leadership of one of the first Black mayors of a major American city. [Excerpted from "The Gary Anthology."]
In Flint, Michigan, a gathering of the descendants of the men and women who joined the ‘Great Migration.’
Volver, Volver//These spaces still hold your treasures,these pieces y cosas/that I can no longer hold in my hand