Category: Politics
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The Long Count
Nithya Raman is closing the gap one counted ballot at a time. On the slow, invisible labor of the women still waiting to be seen, and the work that outlasts the wait.
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Nithya Raman, Okra, and the Brown Woman’s Second Act
I wrote about Rini Sampath in April. Nithya Raman is the next part of the question. The first act has a script. The second act has none.
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What a Vote Earns Here
Five names I knew. Knew like people. Not names on a yard sign at the end of someone’s driveway. The primary is the ballot you make, before the ballot you have to choose from.
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Half of Us
The survey landed in February. One thousand Indian Americans, asked to describe their lives in this country. The Carnegie Endowment published the numbers, and I read them the way I read most things about us: looking for the part they got wrong, and the part they got right. One in two reported experiencing discrimination in…
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Subject to the Jurisdiction Thereof
The courtroom seats filled early this morning. The president sat in the gallery, a first, as if the question of who belongs required his physical presence to adjudicate. Outside, cameras. Inside, two hours of oral argument over five words in the Fourteenth Amendment: subject to the jurisdiction thereof. My three daughters were born in the…
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Emulsion: Hope. Grief. Despair.
My feet ache from running around with our new pup Felix. I am wearing a dress with no pockets so my phone lies on some table somewhere. I glance at the notifications on the screen. A democratic lawmaker in Minneapolis is shot and killed. My heart feels heavy. It has been feeling heavy for a…
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Superbowl LIX And Subversive Art
In the run up to the Super Bowl LIX, I spent hours on TikTok and Instagram watching reels about the makeup of the Eagles team. Given my political leanings and where I live, there was no question whom I was rooting for. Being a #Swiftie, I have been plugged into the Chiefs as well, notably…
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Democracy To Dystopia
The sun glinting off the packed snow on the sides is blinding me. The roads are a hazy white, a fine layer of salt ground to dust by the cars that ply on them incessantly. I am driving slowly. My mind is heavy. I am heading back home after dropping my youngest at her school…
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Dystopia: Delulu Is The Solulu
“Alexa, play rosie by Rosé.” I command the little blue orb in my bathroom as I step in to take the shower. I wash my hair letting the hot water hypnotize me as the music cascades in waves, dulling any thought I might have. I went to bed last night after binge-ing a comfort show.…
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Finding Solace: Writing Through Political Disappointment
Tuesday, November 12 reads the home screen of my phone. I feel sucker punched knowing it has been a week since the election and, we have already settled into a new normal. None of this is surprising yet, I feel a sense of loss I can’t articulate. In the wake of the election results becoming…