David Minerva Clover

David Minerva Clover

Bio

David Minerva Clover is a queer and transgender writer, covering everything from parenting to why dinosaurs are awesome. His work has appeared in The Washington Post, New York Mag, The Establishment, and many other places. He lives in beautiful Detroit Michigan with his spouse, one child, and an embarrassment of animals. Check out his blog at Postnuclear Era or follow him on twitter at @dm_clover.

David Minerva Clover Articles

Representation for LGBTQ families matters!

Representation For LGBTQ Families Still Has A Long Way To Go

The reality is the shift is happening slowly; for queer kids, and kids of queer parents, it might be too slow. Representation for LGBTQ families matters!

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I love trick-or-treating, and I’m here to preach its gospel.

Trick-Or-Treating Isn't Dangerous — It's Community Building​

I think kids and parents need old school trick-or-treating. I think it has a value far greater than the sum of its candy. I love trick-or-treating!

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I stand at the ready to remind these adults what ought to be common sense: mind your own plate. Stop policing how kids eat!

Other Adults, It’s Time To Stop Policing How Kids Eat

I stand at the ready to remind these adults what ought to be common sense: mind your own plate. Stop policing how kids eat!

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My epidural made me stop wanting to die. Image: Thinkstock.

Whether Or Not Someone Gets An Epidural Is None Of Your Business

We compare birth stories like war stories. Twelve hours of labor, 32 hours of labor, three hours of pushing, we fall into the trap of trying to one-up each other. So yes, I can see why, to a parent-to-be who is enthusiastically anticipating pain relief, the refusal of an epidural might seem like a bit of a hero complex. And maybe for some people it is! But it’s none of your goddamn business.

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Yule is a promise: winter sucks, but spring will come again.

Centering Yule During A Month Full Of Christmas

After the solstice, the light very slowly begins to return, and every day is a little longer. Yule is a promise: winter sucks, but spring will come again.

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My kid, who turned three the day after Mary the duckling died, wasn’t old enough to get any of it.

Talking To Toddlers About Death And Poultry Is Unnerving

My kid, who turned three the day after Mary the duckling died, wasn’t old enough to get any of it. Yet talking to toddlers about death is part of life.

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What I love, what I’m most interested in (at least in terms of written and spoken word), is the telling of stories.

Selling Yourself For Scraps: Why I Love Personal Essays

But what I did write, and write constantly, were diaries and journals. I kept notebooks and three-ring binders filled with observations about my life that I thought were interesting. Sometimes I worried that these personal stories were too naval-gazing, but I still held on to them, hoping that someday someone would want them.

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When the next election comes around, he will be able to look at it and say “what is that?”

On Not Talking About The Election With My Toddler

This morning my son woke up laughing. My son woke up laughing and I woke up crying. My son woke up laughing and his little squeaky voice was a light in the darkness to me. I went into his room and moved towards his crib and he smiled at me. And I was so grateful, grateful for him and who he is, but also grateful that he is still a baby and I do not have to explain what happened last night.

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I am an adult woman, and guess how many dollhouses I own? Two.

Tiny Houses, Tiny Things

I am not middle class. Tiny houses are touted as an affordable solution, but they’re still more house than I can afford.

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The reality is that I did not become poor because I ate a meal in a restaurant one too many times.

Yes, Poor People Eat Out Sometimes, Deal With It

I’m a poor person. I live below the U.S. poverty line. And yeah, I deserve to make my own financial decisions. The reality is that I did not become poor because I ate a meal in a restaurant one too many times, and while it’s true that eating out less can affect one’s budget, refusing to ever eat out again won’t make me not poor.

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