Gratitude is not soft. It is the calloused hand that built the feast. Thanksgiving is drawing near. The leaves are dying beautifully, people are pretending to like pumpkin spice, and supermarkets are waging wars in the frozen aisle over turkeys the size of small dogs. For many Americans, this is nostalgia season, the one time of year when family, food,
Tag: belonging
Sounding “American” does not equate clarity or comprehension. Fluency is not imitation. It is ownership. I Grew Up Speaking in Two Worlds I grew up and spent a big part of my life in the Philippines. Yes, we used English in school. It was the language of instruction, of authority, of announcements shouted through broken speakers that nobody really heard.