

My Silent Voice ...
Would be silent a little longer. I had brought a black suit and a white blouse. I had a pair of closed toe black shoes with low heels. I looked at the shoes and knew they were going to hurt my feet about an hour after putting them on. I’d have to wait until the very last moment before putting them on. I looked out the window of the hotel room and hoped it would be only a mildly hot and humid day. It was still early morning. But it was June in Arlington, Virginia. This


The Scar Enveloped My Left Forearm … Forever ...
At four and half years old, I was still living with my Obaachan in the little apartment in Chofu, Japan. Adjacent to the kitchen area was a living/bedroom area with a tatami floor where I spent my evenings after dinner and before the futons were laid out for bed. In winter, when it was cold and damp, a heater stood in the middle of the room on which sat a water kettle filled with water. By the time dinner was done, the water in the kettle was boiling and steam was coming ou


A Standup Paddleboard, a Paddle and Me ... in the Race from Hell ...
In June 2009, a friend of mine introduced me to standup paddleboarding. The sport was still relatively new everywhere. I had paddled maybe 3 or 4 times, about an hour each over a 2-week period. I could stand, paddle for about 20 minutes, rest, and paddle back. In early July, I signed up for my first standup paddleboard race on Lake Tahoe, "The Jam," a 6-mile race from the North Shore to Tahoe City. I thought it would be FUN. I showed up at the race start site early that