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As a reptile lover, this picture seems the perfect example of giving a hand. Or a foot, or a sucker. Whatever. Sometimes help isn’t this noticeable. You don’t have to save a friend from a life-threatening situation to be helpful. It can be hot curlers, for instance. Honest. (Folks who can’t see the connection between…

As part of the 30 Days of Love project, I’m using many of the prompts offered on the  blog site for the posts here. This week focuses on family, among other things. Family and race and community, in general. I have the privilege of being a white American. I mean that quite literally: in America,…

As a little girl growing up in Việt Nam, I was the odd one out. Blonde in a sea of glossy black hair, dead white dot in a warm brown tapestry. But even before, living in Tulsa & then San Antonio, how could you not notice difference? People who say children don’t notice race are…

As a young child, I had very long hair. I wore it either in braids, or in a ponytail; it did look quite a bit like the tail of a Shetland pony. Long, blond, and constantly in motion. I wasn’t a child of stillness. As I grew, I still wore my hair long — putting…
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