Jyotika Saksena: Common Misperceptions About Refugees
America needs more refugees, not less.
Umit Singh Dhuga: Three poems
We were huddled by the Campbell House bar
on the penultimate Monday of July
downing pint after pint of tepid water.
My first reading sober, your last one alive.
Alfred W. McCoy: Cold Wars, Hot Planet, and New Geopolitical Firestorms
With so many mesmerized by the conflict in Ukraine and the possibility of another over Taiwan, world leaders largely ignore the rising threat of climate change.
Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer: Embracing the Mess
I like it best when the memories are everywhere—
and I stumble over the ghosts of wooden train tracks,
trip on the spot where you used to do push-ups
Lourdes Medrano: Getting Voters the Truth in a Whirlwind of Lies
In Arizona, voter groups reach out to Latino citizens to combat misinformation spread by election-denier candidates.
Mike James: Reasons to Mumble
Because some vowels must be exhaled quietly
George Yancy: The “Problem” Isn’t Disabled Bodies — It’s the Violent Structure of Our Society
Christine Wieseler argues that medical models of disability “blame the victim” by emphasizing the idea of a conception of embodied normativity. In contrast, social models of disability rethink ways of “helping people to figure out how to live with impairments and chronic illnesses.”
Carol Frost: Scorn
How had they not been wounded? And wounded they’d convalesced in the same rooms
and bed.
Paul Christensen: The Bennie Thompson Crusade
The closing remarks of Bennie Thompson were so pure in their simplicity and directness, I had to hold my breath.
Video: The Beetle at the End of the Street
In this Fellini-esque comedy, a psychic fishmonger foresees Amadeo’s death, so his fellow villagers rally to give him the best final seven days for which one could ask.
Video: Louis’ Shoes
Louis, 8-and-a-half years old, is autistic. He arrives at his new school and is about to introduce himself.
John O’Keefe: Amo, Amas
Amo, Amas, I love a lass
As a cedar tall and slender;
Sweet cowslip’s grace is her nominative case,
And she’s of the feminine gender.
Elizabeth Kirschner: Time and Again
As the fire taught the house how to surrender, the dolls, they screamed, not me, oh they screamed like ashes that smelled of church pews.
Charles Bukowski: Consummation of Grief
I even hear the mountains
the way they laugh
up and down their blue sides
