Saint FOR WENDY DAVIS At seven I asked to name my new sister Wendy so I could fly with Peter Pan. One Wendy friend here A second one there; she came she went until two thousand thirteen in June. A Bethlehem teardrop wet my cheek when a Texas Wendy rose in stature to an icon. Here stood an unwed mother in a race for justice the world watched another Mary. -- Sydney McQuoid
My Bully’s Name is Stephanie In kindergarten I tried to change my name to Kelly and I became best friends with Stephanie who didn’t try to change her name but never told me I was weird and we laughed on the playground and played with our dolls and learned how to spell and dream. In second grade Stephanie decided to be friends with Brittany instead and no one ever told me but I figured it out when they laughed at me at recess and made excuses to keep me from playing with them and I tried so hard not to cry until I got home. In middle school they played sports together but I found solace in books because maybe books wouldn’t make me feel so empty inside. In high school Stephanie nearly starved herself to death and I wished we could have been friends again so she’d know that I spent half my day with my face in the toilet because I couldn’t control myself the way I assumed that she could and it never occurred to me that she hated existence just as much as I did. In college I tried to forge...
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