My first semester teaching, I had a student who made me feel like I was looking at a mirror. She was a young woman, a language broker, a first-generation Mexican-American with family who lives in the same state in Mexico where my Abuela was born. She longed for Mexico the way I long for Mexico.
The summer I was ten, I woke in the mornings having dreamt of arrowheads. I grew
up on a ranch in the Rockies, a place of fields and forest which were, to me,
Here is a man whose wildness takes place in dream, in a corner of a Parisian
apartment, on a narrow cot. Here is a man who never dreams except of a curve of
High above us, on the dusty surface of the moon, a microscopic illuminated text
blesses the heavens.
NASA summarized
[https://history.nasa.gov/ap11-35ann/goodwill/Apollo_11_material.pdf] the
strange afterthought like
