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    Standards of Care
    The Sun InterviewBy Naomi PittsStandards of CareRolonda Donelson on Bias and Anti-Science Attitudes in Medicine

    The reason Black women were used to develop the field of gynecology was because they were no more than property. They weren’t seen as people; they were just seen as things. The controlling of Black women’s bodies started with chattel slavery, but it continues today.

    Milk
    Readers WriteBy Our ReadersMilk

    Pumped for an infant, spilled at the dinner table, used as a tear gas antidote

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Essays, Memoirs & True Stories

    Essays, Memoirs & True Stories

    A Lucidist Manifesto

    I. Writers may write in clear English, without needlessly opaque, spectacular and nonlinear associations. Code obfuscates; poetic code obfuscates utterly.

    By Mark WordenOctober 1982
    Essays, Memoirs & True Stories

    Saying Goodbye To Warren

    He was the only friend I had who would dive on the hood of a car. What does that mean? Look around you and you will see it meant a lot.

    By John RosenthalOctober 1982
    Essays, Memoirs & True Stories

    Living Materialism

    Instead of attempting to bless the Earth, I find that the Earth is calling divinity out of me. It becomes a reciprocal relationship. The more I can recognize the presence of the Beloved, of the Divine, acting within matter, the more matter begins to recognize that presence acting in me.

    By David SpanglerOctober 1982
    Essays, Memoirs & True Stories

    Understanding Pain

    (Part One)

    How can pain be minimized? The general rule is: Be agreeable or go away.

    By Thaddeus GolasSeptember 1982
    Essays, Memoirs & True Stories

    The Quiet Answer

    At the start of our journey, the perception of love may appear to come and quickly go. And for some there may be long periods of comparative bleakness. Yet beneath it will be a growing sense of gentleness and innocence and a deepening conviction that a Friend walks beside us and holds our hand in love.

    By Hugh PratherSeptember 1982
    Essays, Memoirs & True Stories

    Save The Last Dance For Me

    A woman in a gray hooded coat, with hands in her pockets, is actually dancing alone at the bus stop a block away. She is turning and twirling with herself, and now with me, and now with you.

    By Rex WeylerAugust 1982
    Essays, Memoirs & True Stories

    Who Dies?

    If we examine our fear of death we see in it a fear of the moment to follow, over which we have no control. In it is a fear of impermanence itself, of the next unknown changing moment of life.

    By Stephen LevineAugust 1982
    Essays, Memoirs & True Stories

    Leaving

    Peering into each room of THE SUN, I look for what I want to carry with me, travel clothes for the psyche to wear to the next chapter, where I don’t know a soul, have had no previews.

    By Elizabeth Rose CampbellAugust 1982
    Essays, Memoirs & True Stories

    Carolina Basketball

    For the past few weeks in Chapel Hill we have gathered in front of our television sets to watch the Carolina basketball team move steadily through the NCAA tournament, game by game, winning them all, never with any great ease but always looking like the team everyone of us wanted: disciplined but unpredictable, talented beyond legitimate expectation but not overly-talented like a “bought” team, as good at defense as offense, and most important of all (at least for the fan), a team which in its combined personality embodied all the complex and contradictory elements of our own personalities.

    By John RosenthalJuly 1982
    Essays, Memoirs & True Stories

    The I That Is We

    Human beings possess a reality of inner space that has been all but ignored in Western civilization’s obsessive preoccupation with outer phenomena. Though we are all intuitively aware of the energies beyond the superficial levels of our selves, there is a profound existential fear associated with the journey of self-discovery. Faced with seemingly limitless freedom, we fall back in dismay and opt for a very limited range of experience.

    By Richard MossJuly 1982
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