This summer, Punk Rock icon, actor and writer Henry Rollins wrote a controversial opinion piece entitled ‘Fuck Suicide’ for the L.A. Weekly in which he viciously criticized those who commit suicide, including Robin Williams, who killed himself after a long battle with depression.Read More
A decade ago I was diagnosed with clinical depression and anxiety disorder. The shorter days of less sunlight in the winter months terrify me because of the reality that is Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD).Read More
I’ve always prided myself on being a “happy, optimistic and motivated person.” I’ve even bragged about it but out of nowhere Depression just crept in through a basement window and I found him sitting there with his feet up on my nice, new mushroom colored couch and he decided to stay.Read More
I grew up in Paterson, NJ. It was a tough neighborhood where the second graders cursed, the nuns smoked and the dogs snarled. But the most feared group in all of Paterson… the ones who terrorized children… the ones who promised that retribution would be swift and merciless… was not the Jersey Mob but the Jersey Moms.Read More
After years of living under the watchful eyes of Grandpa and Aunt Jane, my mother and father bought our new house the summer of 1963. Buying that house was a big deal for them because Mommy and Daddy were Deaf and after a lifetime of struggle and exclusion this house was a declaration of faith in themselves and more importantly their independence.Read More
Up until 7th grade poetry was either boring or stupid and often both at the same time. I was never really moved by Carl Sandburgs’ “Fog comes down on little cat feet” Although I can still recite it by heart- and recite it with meaning. Rhyming couplets were especially hard to write because of the iambic pentameter thing. And the limerick, I thought those kinds of poem had potential.Read More
My Deaf Mother flips down the visor and studies her face in the mirror. She is wearing her post cataract surgery sunglasses. They’re the cheap, plastic kind that wrap around your head to seal out the light and seal in the dark.Read More
This is what we are reading in class: “The zipless fuck was more than a fuck. It was an ideal. Zipless because when you came together zippers fell away like rose petals, underwear blew off in one breath like dandelion fluff. Tongues intertwined and turned liquid.”Read More
I am a bad person. Not a bad person in a deviant, psychotic kind of way, but a bad person in a disorganized, slovenly kind of way.Read More
I remember sitting in the car behind my father’s seat for the 2 hour drive to Alumni day at the Trenton school for the Deaf.Read More
It was a splurge- over $3,200.00 and one that I allowed my husband to indulge me in. He’s terrific like that. We lived in a 2 room dorm apt at UCLA.Read More
ALEX- Excuse me, you wanted to see us?
SUPERVISOR- Thank you for letting us interrupt your lunch.Read More
I have said this before and I will say it again and probably a couple of times after that.
I am a woman who can say the least amount of information in the most amount of words.
I am a Jersey girl born and bred; exit 155 on the Garden State Parkway. It’s the home of Bruce, Bon Jovi and Jon Stewart.Read More
We wait, we wait and we watch. You see all kinds in a hospital; fast businessmen in their expensive suits rushing in for the obligatory visit; the revolving door of nurses checking charts…Read More
I miss money. I don’t mean having or not having it. I mean, I miss money; paper money, coin money, real money.Read More
The New Jersey Silent Club was an old storefront with N.J.S.C. carefully painted on the picture window in gold and black letters. When my parents and their friends pushed open the heavy, wooden doors they were no longer the “Deaf one”.Read More
And then it’s New Years Eve. A time when we atone for our sins, and start again. I think a lot about amends and resolutions and about the time when I will have to choose my ½ of the magnets.Read More
Victory Gardens Biograph, Chicago, Illinois with Director Will RogersRead More
He’s the one whose smile is like looking into the heart of dream and he smells like an autumn afternoon. He’s that boyfriend, the one you wait for hoping that he’ll stop in even for just a moment.Read More