When I was 19 years old, I floated down the middle of Bourbon Street on Fat Tuesday. Ten months earlier, I wasn’t succeeding in class, wasn’t succeeding outside of class, felt disoriented in regards to my future and needed a structured incubator where I could find the pieces of myself that seemed scattered and in …
On Hurricanes and Humans: The Importance of Showing Up
There’s a palpable feeling of helplessness that descends when tragedy erupts in our world. Having spent my childhood in Dallas, I basically lived at the off-ramp of Tornado Alley, right in the parking spot of the swampy Gulf air. Annually, our springs and summers were peppered with torrential thunderstorms and green skies that heralded the …
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