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Published: 17 May 2019
DOI: 10.1215/9781478005643-042
EISBN: 978-1-4780-0564-3
Published: 17 May 2019
DOI: 10.1215/9781478005643-049
EISBN: 978-1-4780-0564-3
Published: 01 January 1992
DOI: 10.1215/9780822398226-016
EISBN: 978-0-8223-9822-6
Published: 09 February 2005
DOI: 10.1215/9780822386964-014
EISBN: 978-0-8223-8696-4
Series: Series Q
Published: 01 January 1994
DOI: 10.1215/9780822382607-014
EISBN: 978-0-8223-8260-7
Book Chapter

By Lynden Harris
Published: 02 April 2021
DOI: 10.1215/9781478021421-016
EISBN: 978-1-4780-2142-1
... cars, red plastic party cups all of it, including us, layered with hamburger grease, ketchup, and blue icing. It was a perfect Saturday eve ning. My dad was, um, borrowing my aunt s bedroom. Even with our car- toon blaring, we could still hear him and some lady friend behind the closed door. Over...
Book Chapter

By Lynden Harris
Published: 02 April 2021
DOI: 10.1215/9781478021421-023
EISBN: 978-1-4780-2142-1
...52 20 Boot Camp My dad was a beefy man, built like a human- sized gorilla. My mom was a tiny, delicate- looking woman, which was deceptive. My dad s top four front teeth were false. He d made the mistake of calling her a bitch during an argument, and her foot instantly shot up to kick that word...
Book Chapter

By Lynden Harris
Published: 02 April 2021
DOI: 10.1215/9781478021421-080
EISBN: 978-1-4780-2142-1
... priceless. I was always kind of sad when we left, because I wanted to stay with him. He was my dad. But I was also happy, because every time we were together, we built on our relationship. And I got to hug him sometimes I d hug him two or three times each visit. It was just something about that hug I can t...
Book Chapter

By Lynden Harris
Published: 02 April 2021
DOI: 10.1215/9781478021421-051
EISBN: 978-1-4780-2142-1
... 105 46 Fi nally The last time my father tried to beat me, I was seventeen. My brother and I had just finished working out with our weights when our dad burst into the room in a rage and came after my brother swinging. He punched my brother in the stomach, and it was on. The bench toppled, bars...
Published: 02 April 2021
DOI: 10.1215/9781478021421-081
EISBN: 978-1-4780-2142-1
... come you didn t tell me my dad was never coming home? His mother figured the truth should come from me, so she made plans for him to travel across the country to visit. I was pretty keyed up. I had no idea what to expect. But once the door opened and that oversized denim shirt and khaki pants appeared...
Published: 26 February 2021
DOI: 10.1215/9781478021346-006
EISBN: 978-1-4780-2134-6
... crisscrossing Shreveport s neighborhoods pointed to its ongoing racial history. The lines between neighborhoods were stark, sudden, and policed. Dad built our house on the edge of a newly designated white suburb, C-39. 221 The white suburbs were carefully laid with glaring concrete streets and drainage systems...
Published: 02 April 2021
EISBN: 978-1-4780-2142-1
... of napkins, toy cars, red plastic party cups all of it, including us, layered with hamburger grease, ketchup, and blue icing. It was a perfect Saturday eve ning. My dad was, um, borrowing my aunt s bedroom. Even with our car- toon blaring, we could still hear him and some lady friend behind the closed...
Book Chapter

By Lynden Harris
Published: 02 April 2021
DOI: 10.1215/9781478021421-007
EISBN: 978-1-4780-2142-1
...22 5 Downpour Growing up in my house was a fucking horrific, crazy, sad experience. I remember this one cinder- block house we lived in. Man, the win dows busted out and covered with plastic. If we wanted warm water, we had to heat it on the stove. And my dad, he beat my mom all the time...
Series: American Encounters/Global Interactions
Published: 20 August 2004
DOI: 10.1215/9780822386377-010
EISBN: 978-0-8223-8637-7
... coming. A man got off of his mule and asked for a place to stay. His name was Herbert Wilson. He was a coffee buyer from San Francisco. Mom brought out many different kinds of meat, and that man sat there and ate and ate. The next day he talked with Dad about buying and selling coffee and asked if he...
Published: 24 April 2020
DOI: 10.1215/9781478009160-025
EISBN: 978-1-4780-0916-0
...24 FINDING MY MUSE WHILE MOURNING Chelsi West Ohueri February is the worst month of the year. I keep repeating these lines in my head as I stare at the blank screen. I strug gle to think of anything else to say. The beginning of this month is now becoming some sort of a routine. My dad taught me...
Published: 27 March 2020
DOI: 10.1215/9781478007616-002
EISBN: 978-1-4780-0761-6
.... In my father s it spoke the complicated language of the self- made immigrant Jew. Dad s father came to New York from somewhere near Munich in southern Germany, long WHERE IT ALL STARTED 9 before the desperate waves of those fleeing mid- twentieth- century Eu ro pean fascism. Albert Reinthaler arrived...
Published: 02 April 2021
DOI: 10.1215/9781478021421-021
EISBN: 978-1-4780-2142-1
... decorated with blue bruises and red stripes, testament to our dad s tours of duty, our dad, who d been taken captive by an army of enemy voices in his head. Even through the rage we could hear the rattling bamboo bars behind his eyes, raining pain on his half- white children. Sometimes he d win his private...
Book Chapter

By Melody Jue
Series: Elements
Published: 28 February 2020
EISBN: 978-1-4780-0754-8
... for hosting me in Honolulu while I took advanced diving training for two weeks and to both them and my Uncle Roger and Auntie Wendy for being extra supportive of my dad. Even though this book was finished under the shadow of my dad s can- cer diagnosis and passing in 2019, I am grateful for the love, support...
Book Chapter

By Lynden Harris
Published: 02 April 2021
DOI: 10.1215/9781478021421-033
EISBN: 978-1-4780-2142-1
... needle and I had defeated my dad s lashes. But there was a catch. Most of our dad s beatings were spontaneous. Unpredictable. And it takes time to enter a trance. So I graduated to 72 Trance burning myself with cigarettes and punching bricks hundreds of times. In an attempt to combat my constant fear, I...
Series: The Latin America Readers
Published: 20 January 2020
DOI: 10.1215/9781478007609-067
EISBN: 978-1-4780-0760-9
... the Slash- ing]. They used to come see us right here in Dosmon. That allowed me to see that I had friends among them. If they weren t my friends, they wouldn t come to see me it s not me they come to see. They come to see my dad and mom, and then they d see me too. There are a lot who would come see us...