Caroline Higgins

Caroline Higgins (’11) lives in Brooklyn, New York, where she spends the vast majority of her time teaching English Language Arts. You may also find her at barre exercise classes or playing (and losing) at bar trivia. She continues to be inspired by the energy and diversity of New York City and the beauty of that certain slant of light.

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Good Guys vs. Bad Guys

I am baffled as I listen to TV reporters and NPR correspondents struggle to reconcile their love for someone with the terrible things that person did. We all love people who have done horrible things.

First Light

Crowds of people stand with their backs to the colors, their eyes on their phones or on the train tracks. “Turn around!” I want to say, “You’re missing it.”

Within the Veil

This is the curtain call, a standing ovation for being present. We all saw the curtain between earth and heaven rise and fall again.

I Read Fun Home in New Orleans

I examine the photos of us together on my phone. “I look like a cartoon character and you look like a Dominatrix. I’d say these fit our personalities pretty well!”


At dinner, we held hands and prayed out loud at the restaurants. Everyone did. To different gods.


Forgive me, I still haven’t learned the difference
between beautiful and important things.

Trust Me

We made a Pop-Tart assembly line. You know, to save time. An assembly line of two people. I toasted the Pop-Tarts and my brother Andrew buttered them.

Dear Women, Just Say No.

So just say you can’t make it. Honestly, it took me a long time to learn this. I used to feel needlessly guilty for all sorts of things until my friend Bekah taught me how to say no to things.

Carpool Confessions

John has a car and offers to drive home from grad class every Tuesday and Wednesday night for three months. There are four of us for a twenty-minute drive home, and I quickly come to love the car rides and the camaraderie.

Age of Innocence

I reveled in my first watch of The OC because I wasn’t allowed to watch it in middle and high school. Shows about teenagers having sex were strictly off-limits. (However, watching Jack Bauer torture terrorists was totally fine.)

Leap Year

The last leap year was 2012. That was the year I told myself I would take a photo every single day and create a chronological collection of three hundred and sixty-six snapshots.

Report Card

On Wednesday, your child turned in a list of ideas for creative writing assignments instead of the assigned argument essay. On Friday, I collected a love note from your child to another student in the class. It said…


When we feel overlooked, under-appreciated, or ignored, isn’t it intoxicating to feel seen? Isn’t it easy to love someone who really knows you for who you are and still loves you anyway? This is the appeal of God.

Stumbling Upon Poetry in Paris

I am having a conversation in broken English outside a bar with a man named Matthieu. He brought up the attacks before I did, which is good, because I was terrified to bring it up, and not even sure if I should. “You are from New York, so you understand,” he explained.


The number one thing I’ve learned is we have to keep giving. Give a freshly sharpened pencil to the same student every damn day. Give another sheet of paper if it means the record and preservation of the original thought of a child.

Six Reasons Not to Move

A new bar just opened down the street. By down the street I mean the on-foot travel time is about thirteen seconds. It was Coming Soon for weeks.

Silent Summer

It’s natural to want to fill your life. But in a life-long attempt to fill my soul with the “right” things, I have recently become fond of silence and stillness.