Best Worst Year: Episode 93 (Or, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot)


Sundog Blog

Sleep in the ashes of American flags. The radio is a thermostat, taking the temperature of former homes. You know those streets with an ache in your calf. Your parents made a choice before you were school-aged, to pluck you from the subsiding coal fires and dead-eyed mining town for a better education and a small town life. You left home, went to school in the blast radius of your birthplace and from there you watched a city close its fist around the Latino population. Sons of immigrants, twice removed from Ellis Island wanted to ensure Spanish was an outlaw tongue–wanted bilingual to be removed from the lexicon of public services. Your skin was dark enough to bring you a second set of eyes when you were at the mall, but caused second takes when you opened your mouth. What did they expect? What did they even…

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