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It was my daughter’s 2nd birthday party. Steve came in, very unapproachable. In my mind I was like, “I’m sitting here smiling after what you did to me last night. Pull it together for her.” He peeled off in his truck and then whipped back ...
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She looked to be 20, gentle, and pretty. An infant with a flowery cloth headband was on her lap. And clinging to her leg was a little girl, smiling shyly, speaking of “daddy” and contorting her head to the far ...
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It is maybe 20 years ago, and I am planted in front of the massive glass funnel at the New England Aquarium in Boston, hypnotized. I am most fascinated by the sea turtles, seeming to be from another age and in the jumble ...
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The guilty verdict came just before Christmas in a Belfast courthouse. Domestic abuse victim Sharon Carrillo guilty of depraved indifference murder of her daughter, Marissa Kennedy, even though the only evidence linking her to the ...
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I understand the numbing and mind fog that develops when someone you love is a master manipulator bent on control, from both my project Finding Our Voices: Breaking the Silence of Domestic Abuse and as a survivor myself....
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“You came all the way from the U.S. to be here?” “Here” was a documentary film festival in a Czech Republic village, about 85 miles southeast of Prague. Documentary film festivals are a passion currently running just behind scuba ...
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Surrender my driver’s license and car keys, walk through a scanning machine, wait 20 minutes for a minute-long van ride, get buzzed in through three thick doors: And let the book group begin. That was the routine on five consecutive ...
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For my first 30 years in Camden, the sea didn’t mean anything to me. I lived high on a hill, three miles from the public landing, and summers I stayed up there as much as I could to avoid downtown traffic. I communed with the fireflies ...
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What is going on behind closed doors in our community is scary. But the shame is what is going on, for anyone who wants to hear or see it, in the Knox County courtroom in Rockland with domestic violence cases.
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Checking in at a dusty hotel, 2 a.m. and 6,000 miles from home, knowing no one in the country and my phone not working, surrounded by men in caftans drinking tea and smoking hookahs and speaking not a word of English, I had a few minutes ...
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My friend and I each harbored bad news when we joined up at the Portland bus station for the start of our trip to Iceland to celebrate milestone birthdays. Mine was the looming country-wide workers’ strike, which would have us arriving ...
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In one day, I enter the world of a woman in the Czech Republic whose break-up with Goebbels purportedly led to the Holocaust; waiters/entertainers at a theme restaurant in Chongqing whose boss tells them he will make them rich . . .
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More than 30 men, women and children slept out in a Camden park on one of the nastiest nights of the year—and woke up better for the experience. “It was cold, wet, windy and loud, but we had a tent and sleeping bag,” said Karen Pier. . . .
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“A smile and a heart,” said a woman shopper about what comes with the free clothes, food and household items provided for the 300 or so homeless people in our area who are clients of the Knox County Homeless Coalition. . . .
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I leave Marrakesh a day early because I am tired of the shops with no marked prices, taxis with no meters, and men who lead you to a faraway shop with genuine Moroccan leather and then as you are walking out with an ottoman . . .
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“I wouldn’t do that. Too high risk.” This from a woman who films in war zones, at the Thessaloniki documentary film festival when I said I was joining the women’s march in Istanbul for International Women’s Day on March 8. . . .
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Jordan was 22 when she got some good news in the mail. “Jett’s dad and I got a ticket in the mail that said we won a prize,” she says. “We had to go to [a local car dealership] to get it. We brought the ticket in, [the prize was a few dollars] . . .
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I work at the Knox County Homeless Coalition (KCHC) three days a week and have some cleaning jobs to fill in. I have a car and I have been in the same apartment for two years now. Three years ago I was homeless. I had no job, no vehicle . . .
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“It would be jail or death” is what I’ve heard from many local recovering drug addicts about their decision to get clean. Well, it was jail for Melody, who talked with me at the Knox County Jail while awaiting transfer to a state prison to serve . . .
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Braydin is homeless. But thanks to the Knox County Homeless Coalition, he has a roof over his head, food on the table, and lots of carefree fun while his mother works diligently with the family’s caseworker to get in, and stay in, a place of their own.
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