I was supposed to write about my immediate sensory experiences, my social mistakes and my small depressions, to imagine nothing outside myself and my feelings. Our teachers (who were mostly white women, teaching classes mostly composed of young white women) encouraged us to write what we knew, and we were supposed to know as little as possible.

imagine that a task force of highly advanced extraterrestrials lands on Earth and approaches the nearest human being they can find, who happens to be a street person relaxing on a park bench. They offer him any one of three magic potions. The first is a pill that will rid the world of sexism—demeaning, misogynist attitudes toward women. The second