When Silence Burns
Some moments catch without warning and leave a mark deeper than any mirror can show. A phone rings in the dark, but no one moves to answer it. A hand reaches across a table, but it pulls back at the last second.
Archive
Finding Steadiness After Loss
Some losses hit without warning, leaving no guide for how to navigate them. A friendship that once felt certain fades without explanation, and the absence shows in the smallest moments.
In the Planning or the Pause: Reflections on Disability and the Shape of Inclusion
Meetings, planning, disability perspectives, and the places where inclusion can be missed.
A Question of Timing: Disability, Access, and the Measures of Inclusion
Not every student starts the school day at eight o’clock. For some, it isn’t a matter of sleeping through an alarm, but rather the presence of medical conditions that make an early arrival to school genuinely unfeasible.
What Stays After The Storm
At the edge of the fields, the farmhouse leaned into the wind, as if it had grown tired of resisting. The porch sagged where weight had lingered too long.
The Light Still Turns On
Relationships are like shared apartments—not the spotless, styled ones seen online, but the genuine, lived-in spaces where clutter builds, quirks meet, and comfort emerges through imperfection.
When Grief Draws Near
When loss appears as a late-night call or a voice in the kitchen that falters, the chest constricts. The body notices before the mind can follow. Grief arrives and reshapes everything it touches.
Even Kindness Misses
Disconnection often arrives quietly, hidden in familiar routines. Daily rituals continue: the sticky note reminders, gentle good-night texts, quiet dinners at the usual table.
Just Another Saturday
The call came on a Saturday. It was several hours later than expected, and yet it still felt far too early. I was sitting on the couch, folding laundry.
The House Didn’t Notice
Loss doesn’t always look like change. Sometimes, it looks like everything staying exactly as it was. It’s a coat still hanging by the door in June. It’s a second coffee cup, rinsed and returned to its place, but never used.