Volunteer Explorer

Only two students showed up for class again last night. I'm trying not to take it personally. It is the holiday season, after all, and people are understandably busy. And the low turnout justified my lack of lesson planning. The three of us had a lovely conversation, however. We moved deftly from discussing the English learner website I had forwarded to them, to hearing about Van's latest strategy for taming her acne breakouts, then on to a free-spirited comparison of movie styles we like. Along the way, Regina and I learned that Van has been sort-of seeing a young Vietnamese man via Skype, though she is reluctant to label their interactions as dating. We two married ladies offered our advice and wisdom on communicating with reticent men, as well as the truth behind the axiom that opposites attract. Van remained ambiguous about the possibility of a satisfying long-term relationship, especially with a Vietnamese man, because of the tradition of the daughter-in-law becoming ...

I've always known that I didn't want to have children. My mom remembers hearing me say unequivocally, when I was about ten, that I didn't want children. Remaining childless has been a conscious choice in many ways, but it has also been merely staying true to myself. This doesn't mean I hate children. Granted, if given the choice to socialize with children, adults, or a mix of both, I'll take option B every time. But I don't hate children. They can be quite entertaining and surprising sometimes. I simply do not ever wish to be completely responsible for someone else's existence in the exigent way that parenthood requires. When I was first married, people often asked me when I was going to start having children, in that sure way people use when the have already assumed an answer.  My responses ranged from enigmatic (we're not really planning) to hostile (what if I can't? what then??!!). One of the few positives about being a woman over...