On Tuesday afternoon, my phone went off with a news alert about something that had happened in Louisville, Kentucky. I live in southern Indiana, directly across from Louisville, and it’s a city that profoundly breaks my heart every day. It’s a city steeped in history—much of it rife with discrimination, racism, poverty, and violence of... Continue Reading →
Over the past couple of years, I’ve been working to heal to a point where I’m comfortable sharing my story. Writing my first memoir helped that tremendously; now that my story has been written and subsequently read by complete strangers, it’s gotten easier, somehow, to verbally share my story in face-to-face interactions. While I don’t... Continue Reading →
It all begins with my story, one that began long before I could even speak…one that continues to haunt me to this day as additional memories surface. The thing I’ve learned about healing, though, is that I have to start with what happened to me, that way I can process my feelings and find a way to deeply understand that as much as I didn’t deserve what happened to me, I am also more than the sum of my traumas. And, in part, this is what happened to me.
Over the past several months, I’ve noticed a significant amount of anti-Italian humor on Twitter. Perhaps it’s the algorithms, and I’m seeing more of it because I’ve posted a bit more lately about being an Italian-American, or maybe there is a surge for some reason I’ve yet to discover. Whatever the reason, the reality remains:... Continue Reading →