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[...] in the US, heritage is mobilized as an individualistic, institutional myth. It would have us believe that by reviving our family narratives and traditions, by demanding representational equity, indeed, by raising "awareness" of our ethnic differences, we can address, even eradicate, the scour…

It's years ago, and I am a sickly, chubby child. I study hard, but no one would call me clever. I'm not yet at the age where there appears to be no difference between the two. On my first day of school, another child tells me I'm fat, like an ugly plum. I decide other people are no longer worth my …

The story is simple enough. She moves to New York for Art. She is young. She isn't beautiful, but she has a nice ass. She attends graduate school. She eats cheese in white-walled galleries and jokes often with her friends about how stealing catered food will keep them full. This is a lie. She is hu…

I take a trip. We go to L.A. because that's what you do. You have to leave a place to figure out if it's here you really live - whether or not it's home. It's hot. The sky is a wall of blue. I want to press my fingers into its glossy weight. We're driving back to Oakland, and when I look up and bre…

Sun had burned the snow off; trees dripped water and the ground along the banks was damp and mushy-looking. We paddled around bends where budding willows dragged lank branches in the dark water. The sky was clear, the air thin, sunny and cold.

I swung myself through the rhythm of paddling, my ha…