And just like that, my #NoWorkWeek is up. In some ways, I feel no different. I’m still tired. The prospect of a bizarre hybrid pandemic semester is still daunting. The explaining-racism work still looks just as draining. But there are moments in the past couple of days when I recognize that I

It’s only my second summer in graduate school and I’m doing it all wrong. I know this not because I’m worried about my productivity or from comparing myself to my peers, but because my body has been telling me so. My COVID test results came in a few days ago:

Recently, I made a big decision. I spent months agonizing over it, partly because my options were in flux for so long and partly because of my indecision. I won’t share the details, because they’re not particularly relevant, but I do want to spend time on decisions. Specifically, why are

“Talk to your racist family,” is one of the first things we say to non-Black (especially white) people concerned about social justice. With the recent murders of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and Ahmaud Arbery, as well as the nationwide protests in response, conversations about race are everywhere. Many of these

Here in this one-bedroom Bloomington Indiana apartment, the Spring 2020 semester is over. Grades have been submitted and approved. Final papers uploaded to their respective Canvas submission pages. Any work I do from here on out will be conducted under the label “Summer 2020.” I sit on the same spot

In the White House, a white man in arguably the most powerful position in the world crosses out the word “corona” and writes, in bold black letters, “Chinese.” In a rail station bathroom, a man is spit on and told he should die because he has the “Chinese virus.” The