words are my habit.
my first teaching job taught me that i like to teach.
my first teaching job taught me that i care deeply.
my first teaching job yielded the following letter to a student.
(what a difference a decade makes…i’d say all of this so much differently now.)
I’m that person who looks around O’Hare wondering who I know because there must be someone; the world isn’t that big, right? If I could page the entire airport, I would. “Hi folks. My name is Michaela Lawrence Jeffery. At least one of you knows me. Meet me in the F gates.” Twice. Twice I’ve […]
The event in this early stage of an essay took place several years ago. One day I’ll finish the essay. The heaviness I felt that afternoon is one I may not forget. So much, perhaps even everything, felt impossible. I’m not sure why I decided to go to a craft store. Did I believe I’d […]
The writing gurus say not to write about the pain when it is fresh. By that they do not mean not to write about it at all, but not to share it just yet when your skin is still hot, when your brain is still hot. Don’t share it when you’re still on fire. I’ve […]
