WHY DO THE ‘NICE’ PEOPLE REMAIN SILENT?

WHY DO THE ‘NICE’ PEOPLE REMAIN SILENT?

A family—a “nice” family—is out for a walk in the park. They stroll by a Cinco de Mayo fiesta noisily underway. Without breaking stride, the parents—“nice” people, really—glance at each other. One of them raises an eyebrow and murmurs, “Different, aren’t they?” The...

SMART STEPS FOR STEPPARENTS

The toughest job in the world isn’t being a mother, it’s being a stepmother. I’ve weathered a divorce, reinvented myself as a “new” woman, and even survived a fat childhood. But nothing compares with the rigors of my improvised role as stepmother to two teenage...
EXCUSE ME, BUT WERE YOU IN VIETNAM?

EXCUSE ME, BUT WERE YOU IN VIETNAM?

Washington, D.C. After great pain, a formal feeling comes. — Emily Dickinson It was with commemoration in mind that I attended the unveiling of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial. Thought the war’s validity is contested still, and though I myself did some of the...
A NIGHT IN LIMB-O

A NIGHT IN LIMB-O

Washington, D.C., writer Carla Seaquist wrote this essay after an evening spent in an emergency room waiting to be treated. So I say to the man seated next to me in the emergency room, “This isn’t so much Bedlam as ‘Bad-limb.’” By some strange symmetry, appropriate...
A LITTLE RESPECT FOR THE DREAD, PLEASE

A LITTLE RESPECT FOR THE DREAD, PLEASE

My husband, commanding officer of a U.S. warship, has returned from operations in the “tanker war” in the Persian Gulf. His purpose there was defense and deterrence. While he was away, I too became involved in defense and deterrence here on the home front: I found...