Mj Pettengill

In Flanders fields, the poppies blow...

From the bosom of the devastated earth, a voice goes up with our own. It says, "Disarm, Disarm!"

As time marches on, it is clear that respecting and honoring our elders has waned into non-existence.

It isn’t just a sweater; it’s the shelter of him—my father—his care and safety enveloping me as if I were a little girl again.


"As I Began to Love Myself" —Poem by Kim and Alison McMillen
 (Falsely attributed to Charlie Chaplin)

We need not vanish in pale shadows, alienated from our essence. To be silenced, overlooked, or crushed leads to an uncertain death.

What did it mean to win or lose?

I am a historical whistleblower. It's what I do...

I played as a daughter—your daughter. This was no ordinary gig.

Each time I cried for her, the river took me back in her rage. I fought White River until I could fight no more.

Apparently, it isn’t who or what you worship, or where and why. It is about somethin’ much bigger than us, and we’re in it together.

From the bosom of the devastated earth, a voice goes up with our own. It says, "Disarm, Disarm!" Julia Ward Howe, 1870

Daddy always said that when somethin’ is born, somethin’ dies, and when somethin’ dies, somethin’ is born—livestock, deadstock.

I was just eight years old when I had the idea to play in the cemetery and stop and read the stones.

Together, we navigated the enduring darkness born from life—a tree no longer bleeding at the roots.

Unlike the traditional auction, familiar to us in modern times, the pauper was sold to the lowest bidder.

“In God’s eyes, we are the same, no matter which side of the fence we are on.”

My question today is, would my Puritan ancestors send me to the gallows?

These ghosts still wander, reminding me of who we were in what seemed to be another lifetime.

If you are suffering and believe there is nowhere to turn, please reconsider. Any shame, unworthiness, fear, or loss of hope can be faced...