I wish I’d thought to shove my friend L. off his drum throne, sit in his place, and try my hand at the kit. But in my defense, this was high school in the 1970s, when teenaged girls didn’t play drums.
(nonfiction)
Tag: Char Gardner
The third place winner of ACM’s second nonfiction contest, and part of our series of pieces inspired by the Democratic Party’s 2024 platform.
This woman, with her light touch, the woman at the clinic who held my hand during the procedure, the clinic staff, and the women who shared their stories, have given me something I seldom encountered before in life—kindness without expectation or judgment.
Even when a partner tells me they like or love my parts, I’m too entrenched in shame about my labia to believe I could be desirable.
(nonfiction)
He is free, Bexley thought, free enough to float on that breeze, rise and soar with seagulls if he wanted to.
(fiction)
All that’s left of the baby is the rattle. / All that’s left of the granny is her knitting.
Another Chicago Magazine 