Posts Tagged: home
This week, your Storming Bohemian has moved to a new house. Again. And so some reflections:
There is much to be said for stability, I know. The steady quiet observation of the likes of Annie Dillard or Henry Thoreau evokes my admiration....more
It would have been almost impossible for me to resist Brazil forever. Given my love for black people and fascination with our stories, Brazil’s paramount importance in the historical trans-Atlantic slave trade and its contemporary role as a cultural and economic leader on the world stage, it was inevitable that my travels would lead me there.
At BuzzFeed, Tracy Clayton reflects on returning home to Louisville for Muhammad Ali’s funeral and the ways in which a place and its people can attempt to hold each other:
You want to dismantle it and start all over and you also want to protect it from the opinions of people who don’t understand its beauty or how to appraise it.
Some would argue that the loss of privacy is a small price to pay to have your voice heard on an international scale. But over at the Atlantic, Ta-Nehisi Coates writes honestly and unpretentiously about his difficulties returning home as a prominent literary figure, and how his sudden visibility carries a safety concern particular to being a black man who regularly speaks his truth:
But the world is real.
Over at the New York Times, Ayana Mathis and Siddhartha Deb consider which subjects are most underrepresented in contemporary literature: joy and struggling for a place to live....more
Rather than being shot at, my new fear would be of seeing the officers unleash violence upon a helpless body, having to watch within the confines of my approximated uniform, padded with a bullet proof vest, which would incontrovertibly claim me, identify my orientation toward the police and not the helpless body, drown me out even though I can’t imagine that I wouldn’t be screaming, I am the kind of person who screams.
At NYT Magazine, Maggie Jones profiles an entire generation: the South Korean adoptees making the trek back “home.” But having spent their lives abroad, where “home” is becomes a tough question to answer:
As Trenka writes in her memoir, “The Language of Blood”: “How can I weigh the loss of my language and culture against the freedom that America has to offer, the opportunity to have the same rights as a man?