I was 55-years-old, and yet my Christian upbringing still had a stranglehold on my sexuality.
Yom Kippur, the Jewish holiday of repentance, had barely been over for 14 hours and I was already fighting with my husband. Over our poached kale and egg salads with a side of chickpeas I notice my firecracker friend is uncharacteristically glum.
Has my Teflon-coated mind not retained a single shred of serenity? When Peter died, the only thing that kept me sane was writing about grief. I recognized that by spewing out my emotions with honesty, I was helping others which meant it was work that made me satisfied.
After a decade of collaboration in the study and documentation of Internet filtering and control mechanisms around the world, the Open Net Initiative partners will no longer carry out research under the ONI banner.… continue reading »