My Cardboard Balcony

Tell me, teacher - will any of this result in higher wages or better health benefits? Will I be able to work a stable nine-to-five, have my own desk in my own cubicle, weigh out data on a computer screen like it's in the palm of my hand, and then go home to at least a one-story house? Will I be guaranteed a wife and kids - a fence and a dog and cat? Or does education have nothing to do with that, and all you can do is warn me about a broken system rather than fix it?

by Belinda Roddie Well, here I was, getting ready to jump out of her birthday cake. All that yellow sponge buried in that delicious buttercream frosting - it was time for the scrumptious volcano to erupt. Well, as soon as I push myself out from that sweet prison, what should I hear but her screams. And not of excitement, either. "I swear, if I see Miranda's face here, I'll gonna bash it in with the fucking bat we're using for the piñata!" Welp. Time to get my pastry-caked ass right out of this condo and into the cold suburban night. Since when did Ainsley hate me? I couldn't tell if it had been a long term disdain or a short term one. Was it something I did or did? Was it the boy we both fell for in high school? Was it simply her unbridled rage that normally surfaced when she drank way too much jalapeño-infused tequila? Whatever the case, I was gonna take a long shower so I could stop smelling like sugar and buttermilk, head down to the bar, and or...

Just take a few deep breaths, darling - there's no need to be scared. No need to shiver when it's not cold, or close your eyes when it's already dark in the room. I'll squeeze your hand to remind you that I'm here - I am present, corporeal, quivering and undulating flesh for you to cling to. It is my warmth that keeps you sane. It is the beat of my heart that provides the tempo for your fear to subside before the monsters come.

I am the only openly gay teacher at the high school I work at. It sunk in this afternoon after I had some much-needed discussions with my students regarding the power of words and discriminatory comments that I or students have heard around campus. I'm not going to go into details as to what specific events led to my decision to have these conversations. What I will mention, however, is that they were necessary, and I wanted to generate an open forum for my students to speak their minds and share their thoughts. That being said, I'm not afraid to be open about my experiences as a homosexual, non-binary individual. While I have never endured major moments of discrimination due to my sexuality or my gender expression - for example, I have never been fired from a job, denied service at a business, or shunned from a community based on these factors - I have dealt with a multitude of smaller, peskier forms of prejudice and insults. I have been called a "fat dyke" by st...

Eyes On You, Mr. President by Belinda Roddie Someone's a lowlife, and it ain't the people investigating you.

Here we are in a crowded parking lot, where the air conditioner doesn't work in my sedan, and it's getting way too hot to concentrate on the melting road ahead. Look, I see many mirages, waves of intensity rippling like water in front of me. Is asphalt could be an ocean, then all it needs now is salt and seawater before it consumes me. I am trying desperately to drive in a straight line, but everything is crooked, and everything is off-center.