A Sort of Initiation: Why I’m Still Conflicted About Having Taught For America.

The day I almost got shot--this was just over ten years ago--I was wearing new shoes. Espadrilles, actually. They'd put a serious dent in my April salary, and they were hardly practical, making only a Carrie Bradshaw-on-lithium kind of sense with the dowdy knee-length skirt I often wore to teach in. Braided straw and flowing... Continue Reading →


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