teaching during pandemic in a climate change era, when the governor is accused of sexual harassment

Secrets out. Emperors got no clothes on. Dressed in the undressed of others. The all to common allegations of misconduct

Not just of her, the underage. But to her, the eldest of all the ancestors. To the whole encompassing womb.

The web of wonder

There’s no where to hide untouched by groping hands. Ice shrinking, land shifting, sea rising, winds whirling.And my students stand with their bellies out. Not just as a fashion statement. But a ripening of truth. This belly holds the possibility of the picture framed family portrait. Ironic that a student asked for a tampon and direction to the nearest bathroom in the middle of class.

Flowing blood announced herself unapologetically in the gray concrete classroom.

We leaned in to make sense of the sound without the visible moving mouth. Masked up. Guards down. They are 17 and I am 33. All of us are freshman. With the potential for pregnant legacies 

Why are you crying 

They don’t ask my chocked back change of voice. I’m just so happy.

To be here

And this isn’t forever 

And isn’t that something