The White Male Narrative
Little girls are made of sugar and spice, but boys are made of something else entirely; Especially white boys. With so many magical stories around us; tales of bravery, rich fantastical universes intertwined with deep wounds and intricate circumstances, the most compelling tale is the one right under our noses: The Narrative Of The White Male.
Bonnie Joy SludikoffPublished 5 days ago in The SwampWhy Many Vocal Writers Will Quit Vocal After Not Winning The SFS Challenge And What This Teaches Us About Longevitiy
You've got to love the American Dream. For our elders, it was a long journey of adversity with the hope of a better life. For my generation and neighboring ones, it seems to be closer to a get-rich-quick scheme. But not only do we expect money from our American Dream, we expect fame, often based on our perceived talents.
Bonnie Joy SludikoffPublished 5 days ago in Journal"Is That All You Do?"
Most of the women I know have suffered some form of physical or sexual abuse. My boss’s marriage just ended, at least partly, because of her husband’s lack of ability to control his temper. The world has crumbled in the last year and a half as people have shown their lack of empathy- how the tiny inconvenience of wearing a fabric face covering in public is not worth saving lives.
Bonnie Joy SludikoffPublished 11 days ago in FamiliesNobody Lives In LA
Nobody lives in L.A. Visitors join us Giving up the security of permanence In exchange for never feeling That their wings have been clipped.
Bonnie Joy SludikoffPublished 17 days ago in PoetsTaking Back Home
Home is a sitcom that I watch on repeat. I spend half of my childhood imagining myself as the third-born on Full House. No, not Michelle. She is fourth, or maybe fourth and fifth, if both Mary Kate and Ashley get their own billing.
Bonnie Joy SludikoffPublished 18 days ago in PoetsIf We Ever Get Separated, Meet Me By The Tree
She said to meet her by the pear tree if we were ever separated. So overprotective, mama, I had told her, which got me labeled as precocious. At age seven, I knew it all. At nine, even more. But in spite of my brazen disposition, our Saturday morning visits to the cozy town square lasted all the way to age 11, which, in the bigger picture of all the families in the world, is pretty impressive.
Bonnie Joy SludikoffPublished 20 days ago in FictionComplicit
It didn't even occur to me, and I'm embarrassed. I suppose I can consider that 24-year-old me is the one who processed and filed away these conversations and this intel, but the red light never went on; not until a few weeks ago.
Bonnie Joy SludikoffPublished 22 days ago in ConfessionsThe Majestic Possibilities Of A Well-Handled Customer Service Inquiry
Have you ever thought of the sheer possibility of what a good customer service agent can do for you? Okay, to be fair, I haven't either! Like most, my customer service chats have run the gamut- but this year in particular, I have had some memorable experiences.
Bonnie Joy SludikoffPublished 23 days ago in Humans
