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Showing posts from March, 2019

Past the Break

In 2000 or 2001, before 9/11 and before I moved well past my graduate school days, I went with my friend Iyabo to Barbados for a conference at which each of us would present. We made time for the conference (being the nerd I was I wanted to meet some of the big literary critics at this event), but definitely made time for leisure (thanks, Iyabo, for pulling me away). Top of our list was the beach, particularly one called Enterprise (Miami) beach in Oistins, where there was a food truck and men played dominoes on a card table at the edge of the sand, which itself was fine and easy on the feet. The waves rolled in shades of pale and medium bright blue, and patches of that color gave way to turquoise and lay ahead for the eyes toward the horizon. That water on my skin has become a core memory for me. I didn’t and still don’t know how to swim, but I do wade—over the years that fear has abated some. That day we alighted upon the beach I had fear and curiosity on me. Iyabo and her friends ha...