Essays

Sometimes I wonder why anyone would want to live anywhere but the South and whether I’ve discovered some secret to life since moving here.

I arrange the clementines on the table next to the store-bought croissants and juice boxes; this has now become a ritual, though not a meditative one.

Thirty-six hours after my client was executed, I drove along the highway in the direction opposite the prison for my wisdom teeth extraction. The throb ballooning at the back of my gums had become a rhythmic, welcome distraction from the grief scratching my throat ragged.

I was eager to run away from a bad divorce and the death of my father and was desperate for a job that would take me away from Nashville.

In 2009, if someone stopped in front of the mirror to take a selfie, I’m fairly certain they would have been laughed out of the place. When did gyms get so sexy?

We had seen Poitier’s most recent movie, A Patch of Blue, and we understood — how could we not? — the cultural relevance of his career. In films like Lilies of the Field, A Raisin in the Sun, and now his latest, Poitier embodied a reality he thought America must see: a Black man of dignity and strength.