From the Archive: Rumpus Original Fiction: No Good
The sounds that she would expect here are entirely absent. There are no cries, no weeping. Just soothing, muffled tones.
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teacher
22 posts
The Last Poem I Loved: “Seniors” by D. Nurkse
How do we counterbalance or offset our knowledge of particular crimes, particularly those that are so pervasive?
The Last Poem I Loved: The Waste Land
It is March, almost April, and the year feels like a spool of days spliced out of order, leaping treacherously from sun to ice to sun to rain to snow.
Multitudes: (Re) Writing Mother
I like to listen to my mother’s voice; the sounds she makes in an English-Korean mashup; we are each the other’s dictionary.
The Storming Bohemian Punks the Muse #23: The Love Song for Argyle C. Klopnik
File this one under “they can’t Trump everything; life goes on.” Last week, I got caught up in reflections on poverty in America: mine, yours, and ours. This week, I decided…
A Place with Teeth
It will be fine, I had told them. It will be an adventure. I was in love. Love is an eternal optimist.
Crybaby College Students and Their Bogus Trophies
I’m a small blue dot living in a blood-red corner of a red state, so I’ve grown accustomed to hearing right wing talking points. I don’t like them, but they…
Dear President-elect Trump
This evening, after returning home from my job as an English instructor in St. Paul, Minnesota, I locked my keys in my car. I believe the reason for this mistake…
Mr. Clarke, the Real Hero of Stranger Things
He’s the teacher who encourages questions beyond the class assessment, who always gets his students to open the “Curiosity Door.”