by FP Readers Natalka Burian by FP Readers Natalka Burian

Telling the Truth

I wanted to let the anger speak, wanted to hold space for it. To give voice to the thing that I carry, that so many Black people carry, that we can’t express, that we’re told to keep to ourselves. That infests our bodies & kills our families, named pre-existing condition, economic inequality, systemic racism. This is what the anger had to say.

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by FP Readers Natalka Burian by FP Readers Natalka Burian

Being Seen

Getting a papsmear the other day, I started thinking how much medicine involves deliberately not seeing. Not in the way we’re talking about tonight, seeing as a spiritual communion. When a doctor cranks open your hoohaa with that icy, icy duck bill, they aren’t really looking at your vagina. They are observing it—objectively! Impersonally! It is a kind of seeing that is the opposite of communion.

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by FP Readers Natalka Burian by FP Readers Natalka Burian

Backfire

I spent most of my childhood afraid of flying objects. Not UFOs, not bats, which sometimes flew in our Bronx backyard, but sporty flying objects: balls, rackets, any sort of equipment that might collide with my body unexpectedly (or worse, on purpose).

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by FP Readers Natalka Burian by FP Readers Natalka Burian

Lessons

The first time it happens is the worst, because there is nothing familiar. Nothing repeated, no outline. Yet it happens the same: a phone call and then a before and after. A list of regrets, explanations.

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