“Lock up your libraries if you like; but there is no gate, no lock, no bolt that you can set upon the freedom of my mind.” — Virginia Woolf
At a potluck in Western Canada, we could talk politics but restrain ourselves. Though before dinner, we bemoan the outcast state of health and education in the province. The public presence of White Supremacy. And the catastrophic weather elsewhere. Deadly hurricanes gather and let off steam in the Atlantic. Six thousand missing in the Bahamas: that much grief as unfathomable as the turquoise sea around Abaco Island.
26 April 2019 When I travelled to China in 1999 to adopt a seventeen-month old, I remember wondering what the future would hold. I was single and 48 years old and working for pay at a job and a half. I wondered whether I was too old - what would it be like when I… Continue reading A Loving Rapport – mothering daughtering
No Gate No Lock 