Postcards from Greece

By Kit-Bacon Gressitt

“I’m a big-ass feminist,” proclaims the sixteen-year-old tourist, his enthusiasm leaping through the stacks and first editions displayed at Atlantis Books, in Oia, Greece. “I’m a drama student,” he says in demi-pointe. “But I don’t like Shakespeare. He’s a dick. Romeo and Juliette is a parody of love. I want to go to university in the U.S.” He glissades into the next room. “I have to get out of Bahrain.”

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The week that was

Zika funding bill, Olympic victory, Harvey Milk and more

By Kit-Bacon Gressitt

Donald Trump recognized hump day by declaring himself regret-free for twitter bombing the parents of a U.S. Army officer slain in Iraq. To deflect criticism, he attempted to correlate the grieving parents of the Muslim-American war hero with terrorism. “Get smart,” Trump writes. Apparently not.

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Wisdom Worker

By Sharon Thompson

in days of deep pine wilderness
and cooking stones lowered into baskets of thick soup,
there were elders to consult.
Huts in which to kneel and learn.
Dreams of smoky revelation.
Heart beats measured on drums of stretched skin. …

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Readings from the San Diego Poetry Annual 2015-2016

Readings from the 2015-20916 collections

The San Diego Poetry Annual, published by Garden Oak Press, contains the work of poets from throughout the San Diego County region and beyond. The Annual includes two volumes: one bilingual Spanish-English volume, and one of poetry in English. The new edition includes an eclectic group of poets, including our first Latino U.S. Poet Laureate, Juan Felipe Herrera, who was raised in Escondido.

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President Obama on Sterling and Castile police shootings

"Because of the color of their skin, they are not being treated the same, and that hurts."

President Barack Obama

All Americans should be deeply troubled by the fatal shootings of Alton Sterling in Baton Rouge, Louisiana and Philando Castile in Falcon Heights, Minnesota. We’ve seen such tragedies far too many times, and our hearts go out to the families and communities who’ve suffered such a painful loss. …

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Scattering the Loss

"I wonder who will deal with my chalky dust when I am dead."

By Sara Marchant

It’s two days after her wedding, which was one week after her first husband’s memorial service. The entire family is still reeling from the juxtaposition—it was all we’d talked about before, during, and after the actual wedding celebration. In conversation we’d put air quotes around “celebration.” We used anger and sarcasm to mask our sorrow and confusion.

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Writers Read: Summer writers groups and workshops

Writers Read offers creative writing workshops and writers groups in Fallbrook for beginning and seasoned writers, because writing is not for sissies—it's for everyone!

Writing for Our Lives

Women’s voices are censored—often silenced—in a multitude of spirit-crushing ways. This workshop encourages women to explore our voices, our experiences, our spirits, and to write our stories, loud and clear.

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Nowhere to Go: Shutting Out Syrian Refugees

Today is World Refugee Day: How do we respond to Syrian refugees?

In recognition of World Refugee Day, Brave New Films and Amnesty International have released a short film on the crisis of Syrian refugees attempting to flee war.

“Give me your tired, your poor” doesn’t end with “except Muslims” or any other blanket xenophobic prohibition.

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The Way We Were: Life Before the Orlando Shooting

By Lesléa Newman

It was a lifetime ago. The 1980s. All week long, we waited for Saturday night. All week long, we smiled and nodded and typed letters for bosses who didn’t know the difference between “your” and “you’re” and “its” and “it’s” and didn’t appreciate having their mistakes corrected. All week long we ate lunch with “the girls” and when they asked if we had any plans for the weekend, we shrugged and said, “Nothing special.” All week long we walked home with our heads down, ignoring the whistles and leers and “Hi Baby’s” thrown our way. All week long we hid who we were. All week long we lied. …

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My Brief Life as a Poll Worker

The California Presidential Primary: An Imperfect Process

By Kit-Bacon Gressitt

“Congratulations!” the letter from the San Diego County Registrar of Voters began, and it continued with confirmation of my appointment as a touch screen inspector for last Tuesday’s Presidential Primary Election in California. “Touch screen,” I read again, as in technology.

“Are you nuts?” I bellowed through my office window to the hummingbirds, who were sucking down nectar as fast as my fanny was puckering up to my earlobes. Anything to do with computer stuff is a “thingy” in my world. …

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