The lioness mothers her cubs remorselessly,
Her silence a testament to selflessness,
Shrinking the space she must

I am too afraid of the powerful blue, the vast ocean is
Too deep and too unknown, 
The words my only

Mother takes me to school, claws hidden,
Ocean kept at bay,
I ignore the flowers on the windowsill and choose instead the sky
As a

Willow trees have always seemed unreal to me.

When I was a child I was given a quilt square to depict myself. Yellow yarn hair and
Popping blue button eyes could not convey the bittersweet taste I have always held in my mouth,
At six.




It has recently come to my attention that the video clips for THE TOLERANCE PROJECT, the lovely and, frankly, inspiring, theatre piece that my Advanced Drama class crafted last semester, ARE UP ON YOUTUBE.

I sincerely apologize for the caps lock in that mini paragraph above, but my excitement is not physically restrainable and cannot be confined to the PETTY PARAMETERS OF LOWERCASE LETTERING.

To those of you who don’t know what The Tolerance Project is, it was a theatre-based response to racist, sexist, homophobic, and generally intolerant and awful behavior that occurred/occurs at Monument Mountain Regional High School as well as EVERY OTHER HIGH SCHOOL IN THE COUNTRY. Our piece was an attempt to right some of those wrongs, or perhaps just bring these issues to light. As student director of the piece, assisting our (visionary) director Jolyn Unruh, we tackled sexism, racism, homophobia, stigma around mental illness, discrimination due to social status, etc. etc. etc. And now, the entirety of our show is up on YouTube. Yes, it is a little less powerful as a series of video clips but I assure you it is well worth your time.

This gorgeous vid is the full show:

And this one is a link to the show as an assortment of clips that you can select individually:

Please watch, comment, enjoy, send out chain emails with this link, tell your in-laws or your 2 year old nephew. As proud as I am of this, I am also incredibly hopeful that it doesn’t end here and now but rather can extend into the interweb and many, many people’s lives.

Alright. I’m done waxing poetic and thinking big. Wish me luck on the first day of school…..



blog renovation! how exciting!

summer is a good time to write and for me, really, the only time (that i have time). new poetry and potentially stories will be updated but for now, just know that there is some maaaajor summer-cleaning going on. old things will vanish (it was time..) and new things will appear.


thanks to those of you who are still following, hopefully some interesting new things will actually be produced.

that’s all,



the roar


We preach and we preach of a new society but all I can hear

Over the sermons of the enlightened,

Those misdirected passions of the blind,

Is the voice of my best friend saying, 

“She acts like a guy, like she’s not afraid to be who she is,”

And the sermons are silenced with these words and instead a dull roar begins.


The dull roar murmurs many things in my ear.

It murmurs, 

to be female is to be submissive,

to be female is to be beautiful,

to be female is to receive and also to give, but never to resent

And the dull roar reaches a scream as it reminds me,

to be female is to be a caretaker

to be female is to be the femme fatale

to be female is to be sensuous

to be female is to be modest,

And the dull roar contradicts itself and folds in on itself and yet grows louder all at once.


We talk and talk of revolution but

Our flags are crocheted by hand and 

We darn them quietly when they rip so as

Not to let the men see that we have done something imperfect.

We carefully correct essays to be gender neutral while passing them out to our classes

We insist to those younger than us, you are beautiful while not believing it ourselves,

We swaddle our newborns in pink cocoons of gender norms and we

Feed to our young the words of our own insecurities and we

Inject in our teens the belief that we are not good enough because 

Somehow this is something we all believe.


The place of the woman has been somehow confused over time

Confused in that there was any confusion in the first place

Confused over genesis, why Eve came from Adam when 

Eves give birth to Adam 

Every single damn day since.

The place of the woman has been confused, yes,

Confused why it is not right next to men,

Confused why the place is confined by confusion.


And until my friend and I live in a world 

Where her thought would be not unspeakable 

But unthinkable

Where speaking your mind and being intrepidly yourself

Is not a quality attributed to the male identity

Until this fierceness, this boldness, this security

Is something that men and women alike can share

Until we can quiet the dull roar and tell it

Just how stupid



And corrupted it is,

Ideological paralytic that it is we must hush it and 

Destroy it with

Our own beautifully strongly feminine hands,

Until the day comes when we are allowed to stand in high heels and not be expected to be coquettish

Until the day comes when we may wear our short shorts and kiss boys without whispers

Until the day comes when we may fight our battles and not be called manly for that

Until that day comes,

I will be disregarding every sermon that preaches that today was the better tomorrow we were waiting for because

Today is not that quintessential tomorrow and

I am done waiting I am done walking I am done

Keeping the peace

I am ready to be me and speak me and be free

And still look pretty.