cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
In honor of the tenth anniversary of Red Tent Living, we are featuring a monthly legacy post written by one of our regular contributors from the past decade. Dr. Natasha Stevens was one of the first women of color to say to yes to writing for us. She was a life-giving source of wisdom, encouragement,…
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I grew up with the names “it,” “thing,” and occasionally “numb nuts.” These gruesome names marked me while simultaneously dehumanizing me within my home. I was given an American name when I was adopted from my orphanage to the U.S. I heard this name used mostly outside of my home by teachers and friends. There…
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In honor of the tenth anniversary of Red Tent Living, we are featuring a monthly legacy post written by one of our regular contributors from the past decade. Mary Jane Hamilton is one of our original matriarchs; with us from the inception of Red Tent Living, she has helped shape this space with her wisdom,…
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When I was in my mid 20s, a woman at church, who was just a few years older than me, had gone home to bury her mother; her father had died a few years earlier. “I am an orphan,” she said upon her return. I thought it was one of the oddest things I had…
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This one is for the outsiders. The ones who walk into a room and wonder if they’re going to find a friend. If people are going to see them, welcome them. “Will I be overdressed? Underdressed? Will I say the right thing? Will they think my jokes are funny?” This is for the ones who,…
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2021 had one job. And it was to not be 2020. In retrospect, I don’t know how we could have anticipated a different outcome. I will own my own sense of eternal optimism, or at least belief in my own grit. So here we are. 2021 squeezing me to the point of emotional and spiritual…
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Like much of America, we got a Coronatide puppy, long-legged and rambunctious. It is my job to walk him first thing in the morning so he doesn’t chew the table legs while I’m conference-calling. It’s a work-from-home season, and he doesn’t understand I have four more Zoom meetings to go.
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Our present world seems opposed to “wonder,” set against the playfulness of fireflies, the mystery of light beams, the power of stardust burning high over our heads. I wonder how to move on with my life. I wonder how to plan for the unprecedented days ahead. How quickly pandemic and tumult and tragedy snuff out…
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I am done proving me. My life is not one prolonged job interview, a permanent Olympic trial, an ongoing all-state music audition. I am not a college application for admissions officials to peruse, an employee scrutinized for business acumen or her annual performance review, an associate striving to make partner. I refuse to be
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The move from our home in San Mateo, California to Los Angeles was the hardest thing I can remember in my early childhood. I was 8 years old, and yet in my body it seems like I was so much older than that. It was move number six in my short life and I felt…
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