I forgot it’s almost Halloween.

My sixth graders didn’t.

A boy in my middle school Intro to CRW asked me this morning what I’d do if he shows up at my house tomorrow asking for a treat (and I’m thinking why the fuck would you do that? — then I…

Looking like the reaper; mending; worrying

A few thoughts thirteen days before the presidential election
and thirteen days before I find out if the breast cancer has spread to my lungs


The pandemic started with punk rock, and morphed to 90s Manchester and today I moved into Patsy Cline. I started, of course, with Crazy…

My second book, Transference, will drop on February 22nd with Tolsun Books, a small, independent house here in the American borderlands. Having published my first book, You’re Not Edith, with a NYC house, I can tell you the experiences are quite different. Both have their pros and cons. I will…

I grew up in a northwest suburb of Chicago.
My paternal grandfather was a die hard Cubs fan, and he turned me into one as well. Sometimes, we’d take the Skokie Swift to Wrigley to catch a game.
And this was back in the day when Harry Caray was broadcasting…

I know much, much more about middle schoolers now.
Which is to say, I know something about middle schoolers now.
Precious little of the knowledge I possessed about middle schoolers was of any use whatsoever in the 2021 iteration of American public education.
That’s how fast things have changed.

Allison Gruber

Educator, essayist, feminist, human.

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