Long Reads

At first, every time the quarry had a group scheduled, the same level of panic would hit all over again.

Real Teacher, Fake Dinosaur Quarry 

I walk out onto our fake dinosaur quarry, and watch in fear as a line of second graders get ready to witness my first time delivering the lesson.

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World War II veterans suffered acutely at the hands of a society intent on a single conformist vision of life that did not include mental illness. (Image of Pat courtesy of the author.)

When Veterans Come Home: My Grandfather And His Demons

I'm trying to unearth the secrets of my grandfather’s story of when veterans come home. I'm looking at what happened to the men of WW ll.

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Should We Have A Second Child? Image: Mariah Sharp @MightyMooseArte

Only The Lonely Are Only: Should We Have A Second Child?

Should We Have A Second Child? From the moment the first baby was born, I’d been obsessing about a sibling: When will my period come back?

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In recent times, Jews can again find their culture and identities being buried.

We Need To Talk About The Left's Antisemitism

Jews are again faced with the stark reality that antisemitism is alive and well within the United States.

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Photo: Lilly Dancyger

Wearing Dead People’s Clothing

Three of my favorite t-shirts used to belong to dead people. I wear them when I want to feel my departed loved ones close to me.

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Much of the food we ate ran along these lines: not unrecognizable to the average American, but not at all the same.

Eating Lunch In Palestine 

I was an American Jew in Palestine. I wondered if I had made a mistake in coming here, in leaving the relative safety of my hotel in Jerusalem, or the even greater comfort of my Seattle home, where my husband and six-month-old waited for me. But the most dangerous thing about eating lunch in Palestine was that I might have exploded from eating too much.

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Did my mom feel alone, as if she were blamed for what happened to her? Like nobody could understand what she was dealing with?

After My Mom Died, Drinking Made Me Feel Closer To Her

When my mom died, I made a list of things that made me similar to her: My favorite color was purple, I liked to write, I loved reading, I adored cats, I didn’t wear makeup, my favorite soda was Pepsi, I lived in oversized sweaters. I was 11, so I didn’t add “I love to drink” to the list, but it crosses my mind now whenever I’m at a bar with friends, and I decide to order a cocktail.

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