About a year ago I wrote a poem to answer the question “What does PS:1 mean to you?”(1)

Being away from the space for a while has given me an opportunity to reflect on it from afar.

The whispers followed her consciousness like the trails of a ghost for the rest of the day.

“Four-eyes.” “Nerd.” “Dork.” “Geek.” “Little miss teacher’s pet.”

Her lowered head didn’t prevent the other students from noticing the tears glistening on her cheeks…

Tonight, before I apply for my DACA renewal, I am writing this note because I am tired of sharing articles and photos on Facebook. I don’t have a lot of money to spare to donate to all of the nonprofits I’d like to, and I…