Mammy tying the laces on Scarlett’s corset.

Confession, I think, is good for the soul

Collage by Natalya Kochak

I have come to realize that this absent man, this phantom who might never have taken form except for my tenacious curiosity, contributed a great deal to the person that I am.

Photo by Ed Robertson on Unsplash

All of us bibliophiles owe a debt of gratitude to the robber baron who built libraries across the country.

Photo by Kat J on Unsplash

You might sneer at me for giving money to strangers, but guess what? I actually, really don’t care.

Photo by JESHOOTS.COM on Unsplash

Blame my grandmother’s basement for making us travelers

Photo by Tom Strecker on Unsplash

My most enduring memory of the pandemic is and always will be that skinny, reticent, unemotional man who saved me.

Artwork by Natalya Kochak

Unaccompanied minors will continue to come from the Northern Triangle, like drowning people fighting to board a lifeboat.

Photo credit: iStock

My twin brothers were famous for their fearless shenanigans, from climbing the TV antenna to playing in ant piles.

Photo by Laura Seaman on Unsplash

This is the matrix in which I was made, a harsh land of short-grass prairie and endless, sun-bleached sky

Jacque White Kochak

I have been writing for years but more recently transitioned to writing grants. I have published extensively in the past and am just getting up to speed again.

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