My Sunday school class was an unapologetic sausage fest, as I was the sole pupil in my grade without a Y chromosome. Rather than rally in the obvious potential of the situation, i,e, the boyfriend possibilities, or the chance to get firsthand insight into the prepubescent male psyche, I felt isolated due to my lack of wang. I dreaded attending, and my mother’s frustration mounted as I became increasingly reluctant to abandon my Barbie-filled sanctuary in favor of the weekly testosterone gathering in the 3rd grade classroom at my synagogue’s religious school.Read More
I've written a bunch of nonfiction essays as an as-yet unpublished collaboration with my sister I wrote several years ago. Read on and let me know what you think!