They’re a stretch, / these contiguities between land and mind— / but consider the speed limit: / over a hundred the whole way back / to Hope

By Michael Prior
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Essays

In her debut collection Shahr-e-jaanaan, Adeeba Shahid Talukder asks: What would happen if we smashed the unjust barriers between profane and sacred, wretchedness and beauty, human and God?

Essays

perhaps, every day is always a ‘perhaps’, a ‘maybe’, for queer people in Indonesia, since every day is a fight, a faith, a hope

Essays

The author of The Magical Language of Others, a heart-wrenching story of parent-child separation, speaks to the linguistic, historical, emotional surprises in writing her memoir.

Essays

In the Texas prison system, my name is Chino. You will not know who I am unless you are immediate family or one of my few friends.

Essays

Imagine the tens of millions of years that American prisons have stolen, woven back into society.

Essays

The green fruit would collect on the ground before we threw them to be devoured with the fervor we reserved for galas and granny smiths.

Essays

“Giving women voice” does not necessarily mean they will be heard or believed. From feminist refusal in Chang-Rae Lee’s A Gesture Life to the quiet resistance of comfort women statues.

Essays

Fearing the fruit cutting expectations of Korean mother-in-laws

Essays

When they called me spoiled, they meant that I was a rotten fruit, left out to waste in the humidity, sullied by forces beyond their control.

Essays

The kumquat’s sweetness was a disguise, and once it was disrobed in your mouth, the meat inside was sour enough to make your mouth buck, to wring your tongue of its language.

Essays

A headline buried deep inside the paper catches my eye. “They’re extending AFSPA for another six months in Assam,” I announce. She nods, and continues to massage the green beans in her bowl.

Essays

Mishima’s Patriotism reveals the drives operating behind political movements and how ultranationalistic ideas become deeply entangled in the personal

Essays

In a new collection from A World Without Cages, seven writers reflect on building a different future while holding the weight of the past

Essays

Two women write about imprisonment, one from the outside and one from the inside.

Essays

Mom and I would share toast, shedding crumbs all over the bed while I asked her other questions, like if it was possible to move things with your eyes, what the word “fuck” meant, if angels existed or if she could tell me the story about when she and Dad got me from Nanchang.

Essays

There’s no shame in loving durian at this New York City haven.

Essays

To fix myself, it seems, is to become a ghost of myself.

Essays

Sometimes, I only want to eat the skin.

Essays

What a royal feeling to look into that bag and imagine something new on my tongue on a day like that.

Essays

I wondered how many cherries babies could eat, and what they might think of the taste, or if they just know that the sugar tasted good.

Essays

In her debut collection Shahr-e-jaanaan, Adeeba Shahid Talukder asks: What would happen if we smashed the unjust barriers between profane and sacred, wretchedness and beauty, human and God?

Essays

A headline buried deep inside the paper catches my eye. “They’re extending AFSPA for another six months in Assam,” I announce. She nods, and continues to massage the green beans in her bowl.

Essays

perhaps, every day is always a ‘perhaps’, a ‘maybe’, for queer people in Indonesia, since every day is a fight, a faith, a hope

Essays

Mishima’s Patriotism reveals the drives operating behind political movements and how ultranationalistic ideas become deeply entangled in the personal

Essays

The author of The Magical Language of Others, a heart-wrenching story of parent-child separation, speaks to the linguistic, historical, emotional surprises in writing her memoir.

Essays

In a new collection from A World Without Cages, seven writers reflect on building a different future while holding the weight of the past

Essays

In the Texas prison system, my name is Chino. You will not know who I am unless you are immediate family or one of my few friends.

Essays

Two women write about imprisonment, one from the outside and one from the inside.

Essays

Imagine the tens of millions of years that American prisons have stolen, woven back into society.

Essays

Mom and I would share toast, shedding crumbs all over the bed while I asked her other questions, like if it was possible to move things with your eyes, what the word “fuck” meant, if angels existed or if she could tell me the story about when she and Dad got me from Nanchang.

Essays

The green fruit would collect on the ground before we threw them to be devoured with the fervor we reserved for galas and granny smiths.

Essays

There’s no shame in loving durian at this New York City haven.

Essays

“Giving women voice” does not necessarily mean they will be heard or believed. From feminist refusal in Chang-Rae Lee’s A Gesture Life to the quiet resistance of comfort women statues.

Essays

To fix myself, it seems, is to become a ghost of myself.

Essays

Fearing the fruit cutting expectations of Korean mother-in-laws

Essays

Sometimes, I only want to eat the skin.

Essays

When they called me spoiled, they meant that I was a rotten fruit, left out to waste in the humidity, sullied by forces beyond their control.

Essays

What a royal feeling to look into that bag and imagine something new on my tongue on a day like that.

Essays

The kumquat’s sweetness was a disguise, and once it was disrobed in your mouth, the meat inside was sour enough to make your mouth buck, to wring your tongue of its language.

Essays

I wondered how many cherries babies could eat, and what they might think of the taste, or if they just know that the sugar tasted good.