I find that I can no longer recall the pitch of his voice, precisely, only those words on which it halted.
Founded in 1977 at Columbia University's School of the Arts
I find that I can no longer recall the pitch of his voice, precisely, only those words on which it halted.
I had just been laid off from my job, my roommate had bolted to his home country, and April rent was seeming dire as ever.
I didn’t choose the bathroom for its grandeur. The room is narrow and yellowed with a bathtub against the wall and cobwebbed windows above the toilet and sink.
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It may seem strange, when thinking of the future, to recommend books on the past, but studying history is not simply about picking apart old news.
Our plant is the closest thing I have to a little brother, disregarding some of my mother’s oldest plates and mugs. It is stocky and broad, it throws its dark leaves and branches as far horizontally as it does vertically.
With a faded white towel around her neck, she looked like an aged prize fighter who’d had the life knocked out of her.
Columbia Journal has shortlisted up to 23 writers and artists for the Special Issue on Loneliness contest.
When friends and colleagues find out I’m trans, they often assume I don’t want children.
A collection of writing by disabled people, edited by disabled activist, media maker and research consultant Alice Wong.
I stare at my father. He is still, as if he were frozen by Medusa, trying to un-see her face.
I remember the first time I did it: it was an ordinary Tuesday afternoon, after class. By the end of my seven years in LA, I was so good at shoplifting clothes that the maiden voyage story didn’t mean much. I…
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