Jackson Bliss: Obāsan In A CupAugust 2016
Despite a life of poverty, sustenance of the heart endures.
Piotr Florczyk: Taking The Long Way HomeJune 2016
An Immigrant father-to-be ponders what homeland means to him, and what it might mean to his daughter.
Rachel Hall: Mother TongueJune 2016
On what a dying language leaves behind.
Matthew Clark Davison: LapsedJune 2016
If I ever make it and they ask me where I’m from, I’ll say MARs: Moving, AIDS, and Religion.
He doesn’t talk much about his life in Sri Lanka before the war, only after, as if in 1983 when everything ended for some Sri Lankan Tamils is when his life begins.
I Am A RockJune 2016
Whenever the latest woe is me commercial came on hawking the newest painkiller, Mami commanded our attention: “That’s me!”
Moscow WindowsMay 2016
An unimaginably endless life lay ahead of me, almost frighteningly so. Sometimes, when I thought about it, I became so agitated that I found it difficult to breathe.
Bulgarians are physical people. I discovered that when I left and came to New York.
Gillie Collins: Doug DuBois and the Photography of FamilyApril 2016
In Good Time is the first mid-career survey of DuBois’ photographs on exhibit at Aperture Gallery.
Redfern Jon Barrett: Polyamory and the New Struggle for Civil RightsMarch 2016
Why we need to recognize the changing face of Western families.
The Tale of the HagMarch 2016
Her feet were brown. She ambled closer. Darling, I’m you, she said. I’m you from the future.
Shakespeare, New MexicoDecember 2015
Boundaries of Nations: With time, I learned to love and master my scenes.
Hidden in a SuitcaseNovember 2015
In search of the mother who gave her up for adoption, the author finds six siblings instead. Decades later, she contemplates the drug addiction that cost many of them their lives.
Then high school came, and my brother and I didn’t talk. I was some bitch-majesty in the schoolyard, and whoever said all tomboys are loved has never been a tomboy.
Water ButterflyOctober 2015
No one knows when exactly he became the thing I fed upon, the thing whose body works for my body, day and night.
Now that she had shared a story, the Mother said, he must tell her one of his own. Something that had happened to him. He could tell that she meant something terrible.
Boundaries of Taste: And as I parted my lips and then, later, my legs, watching the last clouds of smoke slip upward, I kept hearing my mother’s voice say, “Jesus is a fire.”
A Boy My Sister Dated in High SchoolMay 2015
When the boy she was dating hit my sister, it made a sharp cracking sound, just like it does in the movies.
The BabyMay 2015
“I hope you pathetic little boys are proud of yourselves!” she cried. “I honestly do!”
Sarah Beth Childers: Portraits within PortraitsApril 2015
A family held together by a photo frame.
Only SonApril 2015
“Some are really crazy,” the nurse said. “Others are just pretending.”
Karissa Chen: PomegranateMarch 2015
Flash Fiction: Her name sounding like coming, like arrived, like I am here.
Black Is the Color of My True Love’s HairMarch 2015
On interracial adoption in “post-racial” America.
Red BrickMarch 2015
Sam wants to see the Mississippi River at night. He has heard of Tom Sawyer and he looks for him in the faces of boys they pass.
When they arrived in Abbottabad, my mother thought it was the most beautiful place she had ever seen. My father was glad for his homecoming.
Ghost HouseOctober 2014
The stories of the kidnapped always begin the same way.
Jessica Machado: Falling Behind the KardashiansSeptember 2014
American Empires: In defense of Rob Kardashian, and turning your back on the family business.
Jason Bell: The Bar-B-CureApril 2014
I feel the image of myself emerging in his hands, and with every flick and scrape it draws closer to his.
Guernica Films: Measure of a LifeNovember 2013
Face-to-face with survivors of one of the most infamous drone strikes in Pakistan.
Lingua FrancaOctober 2013
How can you gauge recovery if you don’t allow the recovered to live? To travel? To risk?
Enduring ExileOctober 2013
A family’s journey from Armenia to Syria and back again.
My Friend Evelyn EinsteinOctober 2013
The author reflects on her fifteen-year friendship with the physicist’s granddaughter—or perhaps his second illegitimate daughter.
Marrying UpFebruary 2013
Eventually, I married a man more than twice my size. He terrified me. Making love felt like getting run over
This is a Dad StoryAugust 2012
This story can’t get it’s tense together or it’s person, now. Has it even got its "its" right?
Gone to the ForestJune 2012
His father is more than twice her age but her eyes are pinned to his lips as he speaks to her in his fur-lined baritone.
From River of SmokeOctober 2011 To assemble the whole clan—La Fami Colver, as they said in Kreol—was never easy since its members were widely scattered, within the island and abroad.
Girls on IceJune 2011
I was in the bathroom stall at the Armenian chicken place in Anaheim when I overheard Sarah say to her even more annoying friend Abeer at the mirror, where they were both putting on gobs of makeup, “I’m just going to kill myself, habibti, if I don’t make the triple axel at the championships next month.”
Snake StoryDecember 2010
my father has always had / a fear of being swallowed / whether by a large reptile or the earth
Deepening into HumannessNovember 2010
Guest Editor Emily Fragos introduces six poets who write about family incarnations—Matthew Zapruder, Cynthia Cruz, Gabriel Fried, Mark Wunderlich, Lynn Melnick, and Jennifer Franklin.
MolotovBy Cynthia Cruz, guest-edited by Emily Fragos
Got my enzymes, a nickel bag of / Electrolytes. My entire life, / I’ve been waiting for this.
It Is TuesdayBy Matthew Zapruder, guest-edited by Emily Fragos
if you hate me / it must be / for ancient reasons
The ButcherBy Gabriel Fried, guest-edited by Emily Fragos
He’s not old, but he is / too old to live with his sisters / for no reason.
Gebet eines Ehemannes (A Husband’s Prayer)By Mark Wunderlich, guest-edited by Emily Fragos
When thistles spring up in the field / of our marriage, when the noxious vine // twines onto the maple, let us pull it up / by its roots.
Poem for a DaughterBy Lynn Melnick, guest-edited by Emily Fragos
We aren’t native to this land. / It’s time to plant what is. It’s time to go home.
I would like my love to dieBy Jennifer Franklin, guest-edited by Emily Fragos
Thin arm around my neck. It doesn’t look / Strong enough to hold a small animal; but it is.
The Smiths, as I understand themOctober 2010
There’s a box at the hospital in which to deposit / children unlikely to win the Nobel Prize.