Working hard is a standard directive issued from the American success psyche, particularly for those from an immigrant family. I was driven by this idea in my career for years, but I’ve begun to change. Working harder is no longer my de facto position for growth or fulfillment.
“This COVID thing,” “In COVID times,” “COVID life.” I listen to language carefully, cataloguing it. I’ve been listening lately for how people are characterizing these times of trauma, triumph, death, …
I write poetry to express something sanctioned syntax won’t convey. Here’s an example of something I have written recently, while pondering my natural instinct to give.
