This summer, I saw so many people on social media hop on airplanes and head out West. Normally, this wouldn’t bother me. The American West is somewhere everyone should visit at least once in their lives. There is something so humbling, so freeing about standing in the shadow of the Rockies, your breath sucked out by gales on the great plains. The West is defined by a culture of self-sufficiency, a hallmark of its history, the great expanses of land, and the continuous feeling of being overlooked by Eastern politics. Western struggles, from water rights to Tribal sovereignty, rarely make…

The U.S. election is finally over (unless you’re among the few who believe the fake news that the Trump campaign has a “fighting chance” in the courts.) Watching Biden’s and Harris’s victory speeches was cathartic for so many reasons. After four long years of tumult, there’s the promise of a return to decency with an experienced political veteran at the helm. We just elected the first female Vice President, the first Black Vice President, and the first South Asian Vice President. Y’all, Saturday was a good day. In both Biden’s and Harris’s victory speeches, I noticed how they both carefully…

I don’t remember the first time you dressed as an “Indian.” It must have been sometime in elementary school. I don’t even remember the second or third time. But we went to a small private school, so by high school when girls start paying attention to these things, it was nearly impossible to miss anyone’s outfits — especially Halloween costumes if they chose to dress up at all. I remember the first time you dressed as “an Indian” in high school and thinking, “there’s something wrong with this.” You see, my mother is American Indian, but of course, you knew…

November is Native American Heritage Month here in the United States and as a woman with Native heritage, it’s a time to pause and reflect. In an election year, it’s especially meaningful because thousands of Native Americans nationwide will hit the polls to exercise their hard-won right to express their voice — hard-won because Native Americans weren’t guaranteed the right to vote until the Voting Rights Act of 1965. In fact, Native Americans weren’t even considered citizens of the U.S. until 1924.

I didn’t learn about this history until I went to college. Native American history after colonization isn’t really…

I started drinking coffee in high school for reasons I don’t even remember. What I do remember is that it made me feel cool. Adults drank coffee — only children found coffee bitter and repulsive. By college, I couldn’t go without that morning cup. I was an athlete, and between class, practice, working out, and studying, I needed something to help keep me going. What started as one cup in the morning quickly turned into 3 or 4 or 5 throughout the day. I was hooked.

When I graduated from college, I did a lot of traveling. When you travel…

Last week, Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez took to the floor of the House to address the vile language Florida Representative Ted Yoho hurled at her on the steps in front of the Capitol last Tuesday. In front of reporters, he called her “disgusting,” “out of your freaking mind” and a “fucking bitch.” He then stood on the House floor to offer an apology that sounded far closer to a litany of excuses for his so-called “passion.” …

Oh, Chick-fil-A. Where do I even begin?

As a white woman from the American South, I know how Chick-fil-A is a lifestyle. Hungry after the Friday night football game? Chick-fil-A. Driving anywhere remotely far and need a snack? Chick-fil-A. Too busy to cook? Chick-fil-A. Goodness, when Chick-fil-A launched its breakfast menu a few years back, people lost their minds. Now, you can get the worshipped breaded chicken on a biscuit — but not on Sundays because that’s the Lord’s day, although the company claims they close on Sundays because founder Truett Cathy saw the importance of giving him and his…

For Thanksgiving a few years ago, my mother invited one of our neighbors who didn’t have family in the area to join us for the day. The weather was mild for November in Virginia, a soft sun warming the air around us. We were roasting oysters on the back patio — a family tradition — my dad, brother, uncle and grandmother, while my aunt and mother prepared dinner in the kitchen. My dad and uncle were talking away, and my neighbor struck up a conversation with my grandmother.

“Dottie, where are you from?” asked my neighbor.

I already knew that…