Coronavirus Diary #2 — In Pandemic America 2020, Flint knows we are “collateral damage in a rigged deck casino”
Ed. Note: Here is the second of an East Village Magazine’s new feature, the Coronavirus Diaries — personal accounts and commentary from our writers to attempt to capture some of what we’ve all been going through and reflecting on what it means. By Robert Thomas Like an old crow perched on the very thin wire of elder mortality, I see dead bodies and lethal viruses everywhere. While COVID-19 is particularly dangerous...
Coronavirus Diaries #1: Viral time and the witching hour — when the dead wander in and out
By Teddy Robertson Ed. Note: Here is the first of an East Village Magazine’s new feature, the Coronavirus Diaries — personal accounts and commentary from our writers to attempt to capture some of what we’ve all been going through and reflecting on what it means. Sunday has become my day to write to friends. It’s a new routine for me in this viral time. The problem is that I’ve already talked to them—been with...
Supt. Derrick Lopez on Flint’s resilience, coming together for students: “Coronavirus must not fracture who we are”
Commentary By Dr. Derrick Jones Lopez Superintendent, Flint Community Schools The Flint community has a long and storied history of coming together to support one another. This commitment to assisting neighbors and friends has been critical throughout the water crisis, and we must continue to demonstrate unwavering support as we face a challenge that is impacting our community, our state and our nation. The closure of our schools and...
Village Life: Every day, I dream of Down Time
By Jan Worth-Nelson Every day I keep dreaming of Down Time. I used to crave adventure, no day complete without a conscious tablespoon at least of risky business, a routine to kickstart adrenaline, an agenda to keep me in the loop – the loop of life, baby. I aimed to be a player. If I didn’t push my limits a little bit, I lost a dram of self-respect. One time I had a lot to prove and I had a drive to Be There, wherever that was. I...
Village Life: The Flint River dumped us, but we got a story (or two)
By Jan Worth-Nelson I told Sarah Carson the river would give us solace—that was how I talked her into it, for my part always wanting an accomplice in my adventures. Two writers who revel in sedentary hours alone. Two writers—one young, one old—rampantly hopeful but almost comically expecting the worst. Two writers who’d never been in a tandem kayak together on an end-of-summer Wednesday. What could go wrong? Ha ha! Here’s the...
Village Life: A raptor crash heralded my life with birds
By Teddy Robertson Smack! The front legs of my chair leave the floor, my hands pop off the laptop keyboard; I jerk backward. A split second, then a tinkling sound ripples over my left shoulder. I turn and look: in the storm window beside me fissures radiate outward as if pushed by an invisible hand. Something’s struck the plate glass almost dead center. I’m out the door — scanning the front porch for a clue — but the missile...
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