Sublime

fascists.

Before I was a real academic, I was a black woman and before I was a black woman I was a black girl. I was a certain kind of black girl. I am the only child of an only child who was the child of a woman whose grandparents had been touched by slavery. We are southern, almost pedestrianly so. We are the people who went north to Harlem but not west to

Haitianos amam a comida de nossa ilha, mas eles julgam a glutonaria.

Women, always the women. Thank goodness for the women.

Mrs. Amber Moltke, the artist’s young spouse, wore a great billowing pastel housedress and flattened espadrilles and was, for better or worse, the sexiest morbidly obese woman Atwater had ever seen. Eastern Indiana was not short on big pretty girls, but this was less a person than a vista, a quarter ton of sheer Midwest pulchritude, and Atwater had

A woman stretched her body for me, and I have no words to describe her in wholeness, but without shame, I want you to know her. My mother.

generic, though gendered, Native.