Tag Archives: complexity

for Kamo

Someone said to me this week “sometimes abandoning your child is the greatest act of love,” about a child named Kamo, who was neglected and then abandoned six years ago and just returned to the mother who left him, right as he nears the end of his life. It’s a notion I’ve wondered on sinceContinueContinue reading “for Kamo”

For K

Here you are, a nine-year-old sex worker in the walmart parking lot. Here you are, in a sequined red shirt — flimsy, translucent, bare-ly hiding the chest you aren’t old enough to grow. Here you are, nine years old. You are nine years old. Once, in that sheltered place, bumbling through heart and soul onContinueContinue reading “For K”

imperfect thanks

One evening in February of 2014, as I was leaving Senegal after a complex, and full, and growing, and straight-up difficult six months as Callie Daba Sarr, I sat on a rooftop and I wrote a thank you letter.

I recently found myself again on a rooftop, this time in Kalamazoo, Michigan and felt a need deep beneath my sternum to again say thank you.

One Year Has Now Passed: A Letter to Moses

Moses, on this day, I don’t know where or how you are, but I do know that after having lived the extraordinary honor of being a mama to you, I am now grateful to carry you, carry your joy and your resilience, carry the sincerity of your smile and the light of your little life, with me as I fiercely love this world, so that all whose paths may cross mine might be graced with some small sense of what it is to have loved and been loved by you.

That is Something

I have witnessed suffering. I have seen horrible things. I have watched indescribable pain. I turned around; there two babies lay next to one another on the bed, silenced by pain, save for slight mewing. Their bandages were removed and I glanced twice, three times, four before I could comprehend what was missing: their tinyContinueContinue reading “That is Something”

in the trees

I. This summer, I can be found working nine to five in a windowless cubicle, in the corner of a break room, in the basement corner of a very old and dark administration building. And in those hours, I am doing work about which I am passionate, in which I believe, and of which IContinueContinue reading “in the trees”

six months intentionally whole

It’s been almost six months to the day since I’ve given presence to this blog. It’s not that I haven’t written; I have written much in 2015 (see the ‘poetry’ pages for my most recent work). But often a blog posting seems to require a beginning and an end, polished sentences and verb agreement, andContinueContinue reading “six months intentionally whole”