By Kelly Foster
America, I have two words to say to you about Mississippi: Brett Favre. Because for everything that all the other states can claim—well-paved roads, functional public education, progressive politics, literacy, physical fitness—we get to claim Brett Favre. Continue Reading …
By Kelly Foster
I do believe in God. I don’t believe, with any regularity, that God loves me. Or that, whether or not I believe in God, life will necessarily be anything other than the bleak, terror-blanched affair it sometimes appears at three in the morning. Continue Reading …
By Kelly Foster
First days of school are never really that bad. But it was over a celebratory “made it through our first day” McDLT sandwich in sixth grade that I was granted a severe epiphany, as tangible as a kick in the gut: there is always a second day of school. Always. Continue Reading …
By Kelly Foster
My favorite new word came inadvertently and secondhand through my boyfriend’s father earlier this year. Speaking to his brother at their father’s funeral, he asked, “Do you have a tic-tac or something? Cause your breath’s just kind of medium.” Continue Reading …
By Kelly Foster
Many of my best feelings in spring are because of summer. Thawed, the spring breeze kisses the skin instead of biting it. In Mississippi, by the time the azaleas have reached their full (albeit transitory) pomp and circumstance, the sun-drenched days feel as unreal as if conjured out of a Technicolor dream sequence. Continue Reading …
By Kelly Foster
I locked myself in my dorm room one weekend my sophomore year of college. I had a double minor in European History and German. In one of my Twentieth Century Europe classes, we’d spent our Friday class watching a documentary about the Holocaust. Continue Reading …
By Kelly Foster
Out of grace and sheer dumb luck, I’ve been fortunate enough to visit most of the “must see” sites in these United States. I’ve seen the Grand Canyon, Statue of Liberty, Niagara Falls, and the Golden Gate Bridge. I’ve watched the sun turn pink and set over the Olympic Mountains from an island in Puget Sound. Continue Reading …
By Kelly Foster
It’s not an uncommon occurrence in my class to hear some variation of the following: “Ms. Foster, I’m really sorry I’m being so hyper! I didn’t take my medication today!” And it’s not an uncommon conversation around the old faculty water cooler (yes, we do sometimes discuss students behind closed doors) to go over and over the various apocalyptic, postmodern ways in which students are losing their capacity for patient and sustained interest in finishing tasks. Continue Reading …
By Kelly Foster
My maternal grandmother died somewhat unexpectedly last night. Two weeks ago, she entered the hospital and then a rapid-fire sequence of strokes took their toll on her body, already deteriorated by years of advanced Alzheimer’s and emphysema. Last night, my family all waited beside her hospital bed, watching her collect already shrunken breaths, scattershot and infrequent. Continue Reading …
By Kelly Foster
Since birth, the rhythm of my week has been set by church. Both my parents have held leadership positions in the varied churches we have attended over the years. In one of the many commonplaces of the evangelical testimony, I could easily say that I was indeed trained to be in church “every time the doors were open.” Continue Reading …
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