Emily Articulated: Dystopian
By Emily Erickson Reader Columnist Call me glib, but I’ve been thinking about a dystopian future in which the most extreme members of the Idaho GOP achieve everything they’ve set out to accomplish. They...
By Emily Erickson Reader Columnist Call me glib, but I’ve been thinking about a dystopian future in which the most extreme members of the Idaho GOP achieve everything they’ve set out to accomplish. They...
By Lyndsie Kiebert-Carey Reader Staff In the face of great change, it’s not uncommon to feel helpless. It’s the only constant, after all, along with the passage of time. As time marches on and...
By Emily Erickson Reader Columnist For the past few months, I’ve held a question in my mind — not in the fleeting and up-front way I ponder what I want for lunch, or in...
By Emily Erickson Reader Columnist We knew the house was old as we picked our way across the rubble-strewn floor. Having been informed of its recent demolition, we were granted permission to explore the...
By Emily Erickson Reader Columnist It began a few weeks ago — the aisles at grocery stores turning pink-and-red, the targeted ads on my devices shifting from running shoes and heavy knit sweaters to...
By Emily Erickson Reader Columnist Lately, I have required a lot of help. I’ve spent the past few months caring for my dad as he navigated doctor and legal appointments, first from afar and,...
By Emily Erickson Reader Columnist There are periods of time when I allow myself to “check out” of current affairs. It’s a purposeful ignorance I adopt when heaviness is already in my day-to-day —...
By Emily Erickson Reader Columnist There are times when it is appropriate for a person to be resolved, to be “firmly determined to do something.” A resolution is a venture into the future knowing...
By Emily Erickson Reader Columnist I love the experience of gift giving. I revel in the days of warm rumination about the people I care about, letting thoughts of their life and my relationship...
By Emily Erickson Reader Columnist In the warm haziness of childhood memory, I remember my dad teaching me how to take down a wall. I gripped the hammer — not a toy hammer —...