Dear Kindred Spirits,
I’ve always been a walker. When I was little I walked to school. As I got older, my walks lengthened and became an entire world, separate from my chaotic home life. Whether I lived with my grandparents, my single mom, or my mom and stepdad (after she remarried when I was thirteen), I always walked, and I always needed to escape.
Sidewalks, along with my Walkman or small radio or tape player, were my refuge. My first tapes were MC Hammer, Phil Collins, and mix of 70’s rock & roll classics, featuring songs like “Low Rider” and “Carry on Wayward Son.”
Before the Walkman I had a Pocket Rocker, which came with several tiny tapes with only one song on each side. Debbie Gibson, Belinda Carlisle, and Whitney Houston serenaded me in my lonely loops around the playground at recess. I flipped the tapes again and again, devouring each song, parsing out the different melodies and meanings, imagining myself living in their worlds, where I was heartbroken, with possibility.
As a…
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