When the Church Fails to Talk About Consent
In church, there is no need for consent, because the rules are very simple. Before marriage, the answer to any question must always be no; after marriage, yes, always yes.
Katerina Parsons (’15) lives in Washington D.C., where she works in advocacy at Mennonite Central Committee’s Washington office and studies international development at American University’s School of International Service. She spends a lot of time thinking about US policy towards Central America and North Korea, writing, singing, and searching for the city’s best pupusas (suggestions welcome).
Holiday Small-Talk and Other Things we Survived in 2017
I’m doing great! Yes, still at the same job. Well! It’s going well. Honduras, yeah. Um, it’s in Central America? Down south?
All the Things We Don’t Know
We keep getting messages, some true, some false. It’s too hard to make sense of a moment when you’re in it.
First Drafts
My real fear is not that someone will think that I write poorly, but that people will think I write without having anything to say.
I Am Not the Funny One
It’s not that I don’t have a sense of humor—with close friends and family I joke, laugh, and make others laugh. But there’s an unshakeable earnestness to it.
The Starfish Dilemma
Maybe—and this is hard to admit—I care more about the plight of The Poor than about individuals in poverty with names and faces, each with different dreams.
When I Cross the Street, Cars Stop for Me
I want to be better about recognizing their cousin—micro-advantages, micro-privileges that lead to a world that bends in my direction, that is softer with me, gentler.
A Day on the Bus in Tegucigalpa
I set a few rules—my “day” on the bus would last eight hours, but would include walking to, from, and between buses.
What Happens Next?
There is increasing political talk in the United States about deporting the migrants who are apprehended at our border or inside of it. There is very little talk about what happens next.
Listening for Birdsong
“I’ve always heard birdsong,” my father told me in the car once. “But now I listen.”
Something-American
Here I’m asked to explain it: why we talk so loudly, why we dress so sloppy, why we elected Donald Trump.
Moving Day
A fan. A spatula. Thirty soft-cover books. A pile of dresses. Yarn. A bottle of balsamic vinegar.
Things Keep Happening and Happening and Happening
I sent the email at 3 p.m., and at 3:05 I wondered how they would get the blood from the seats and I couldn’t get it out of my head.
January 1st, Again
The New Year doesn’t really feel any different. Like birthdays after twenty-one.
A Different Tongue
I had always prided myself on writing and speaking well, and suddenly I was handed different tools to use; they felt cumbersome and did not fit well in my hands.
Let’s Get a Little House
Let’s buy our sofas at a rummage sale and/Cover the spots with afghans someone knitted./Let’s learn to knit.
I Believe in Hope
This hope beyond reason (though not against reason) is not held in monopoly by Christians, but it is central to Christianity.
In Defense of Emojis
Texting without emojis is like talking with your hands behind your back. Certainly possible—but a little less dynamic.
Me and my Family on Vacation in New York
My mom and dad trail behind me, consulting a map. One of my brothers squints upwards, while my sisters are eagerly taking pictures of sewer rats.
I Found Myself Alone
But sometimes I am lonely, so lonely that I can’t take this solitude as a gift. It feels embarrassing or unfashionable to admit this, that after almost a year, I feel untethered and empty sometimes, even despite support systems and good friends.
Telling Other People’s Stories
This was my mistake. I tried to tell a story without knowing the lives behind it, without caring. I did not publish that story, however remarkable I still find it. It was not mine to share.
Pouring from an Empty Cup
People aren’t talking about the twenty-two-year-old case workers crying in their cubicles at the end of a particularly hard day.
Are You Living Abroad as Authentically as I Am?
I remember being so overwhelmed and lost three months in. I can promise you—it gets better! How long have I been here? Almost a year, actually. Well, okay, six months. But coming up on a year.
How to Write a Break-Up
“Say nice things to me,” I pleaded with him once in desperation. “You’re beautiful,” he told me, which had once been enough, back when he was the first to ever tell me, “…and smart?” I felt myself slipping away.
Five Reasons English Rules the World
English’s hegemony is causing the rapid and irreversable death of less-spoken languages, and with the death of these langauges die rich histories and cultures.
35 Realistic New Year’s Resolutions
18. Use sunblock. 19. “Like” friends’ and acquaintances’ engagements on Facebook without texting your sister “I am going to die alone.” 20. Make your bed for once.
Where the Refugees Land
I coach him through the formalities of a job interview. “Why should I hire you?” I feed him. “I am a good worker,” he sounds out. He is nervous. He rubs his neck. I can’t take my eyes away. I can’t stop thinking someone tried to kill you.
Beautiful and Ugly at the Same Time
Yet ugliness and beauty frequently hold hands. I think of great literature, art, and music—there is dissonance in the sweetest melodies, conflict in the bravest plots.
Pailando Through the Storm
Hector saw the storm coming before we did and he pulled the truck over and handed us a tarp. And suddenly it was raining in the way it does here: buckets of rain, sheets of rain,
Banana Republic
It is a story about power and colonialization, but also a story about bananas and our insatiable appetite for them, as many as twenty-seven pounds per person per year.
