**Trigger warning: a narrative about sexual harassment**
I can’t even remember what I was buying.
Black eyed peas and turnip greens, I’d left Cracker Barrel feeling like I always feel after I eat Cracker Barrel—garbage. 586 more words
One time, at my partner’s parent’s church, an old man asked if I was a foreign exchange student.
And then later, as all the men stood at the front, and the women sat in their pews, and the young folks sat in the back, I felt my short hair, I was aware of my short dress, I felt suffocated and nervous. 172 more words
Hello, friends, and welcome to this open space for sharing stories on the margins of the dominant narrative in the South. I’m an ethnically ambiguous, Japanese American, progressive, feminist, unmarried, childless 29 year old woman from Alabama, and navigating this identity in the South can be problematic, to say the least. 319 more words