Writing, Parenting, and Working in the Mess: Authentic Spirituality and Social Justice

S. held the lead rope in one hand and slapped her other arm against her thigh awkwardly, making a clicking sound in the back of her throat. She had a funny, half-grimace on her face, and she glanced at me then, to see if I was watching. Just as she had looked away, Honey began to circle her. “You’re doing it! You’re lunging! Stand in the same place, right where you are, and just turn with her. Keep moving your arm. That’s it—that’s it!” K, the college student who would become S’s horse teacher, was speaking urgently; already, I knew that any sense of urgency could throw S. off, cause her to withdraw into a comatose-like state. I felt my body tense up, expecting S to collapse and curl into a ball. But this time, S. didn’t. She did exactly what K told her to do, and I watched small wisps of breath escape from Honey’s nostrils and she circled and circled. S. was smiling crookedly, the left side of her lips curling toward her nose, the right side flat, stationary. She had a faraway look i...

When I decided hurriedly last fall to teach _Refuge_ by Terry Tempest Williams in my Creative Nonfiction course this spring, I chose the book partly because of our institution's commitment to sustainability and partly because I wanted to temper the edginess of my syllabus with a classic. That we will be discussing the book only a few days after the 25th anniversary of my mother's death never occurred to me when I made my syllabus. In truth, I'd forgotten the power of the book, how I'd read it for the first time in college while I was grappling, finally, with what my mother's death meant for me and my life. I have been trying for weeks to finish my re-read, and now I'm probably lagging behind even my most slacker student. For once, it's not procrastination that's the problem. I'm halfway through the book, and only halfway, simply because I am finding myself savoring every image, sinking as I had the first time into the details of a place I've neve...