Birthright Citizenship

11 Saturday Apr 2026

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Birthright citizenship. I am part Choctaw, part German, part Irish, part English, part … My great-grandmother told me her father was ashamed of being Choctaw. The white majority in this country made him want to erase who he was.

He did a pretty good job of it. His children were the last generation to be listed on the rolls of the Choctaw Nation. Nellie nee Beaver Funkhouser Petty Milam was my great-grandmother.

She was a Beaver. Her mother’s name was Beavers. That makes me a Choctaw Beaver.

Am I white enough to be an American? I don’t think anyone would doubt it, except maybe my great-great grandfather AND the convicted criminal currently calling himself the president of this country, along with his attorney who argued against birthright citizenship in front of the Supreme Court.

This morning on This American Life, we were reminded—no that’s not right. We learned the story of two Black American activists who were effectively erased from history: Essie and Paul Robeson. The only thing most people likely know him for is Ol’ Man River. Before the FBI and CIA opened files on them and tried them for being Communists, she was a doctor and researcher, her husband’s champion and agent, a writer. He was a football hero, a practicing lawyer, an actor, singer, composer. Their passports were revoked. They were erased from their college records. Newspaper morgues that mentioned them were shredded.

From his first day in office, Trump has whitewashed our history. Any list I create here would be incomplete and downplay the magnitude of the horror of the actions he has taken that half this country has supported. So I won’t.

What I will say is that watching that slimy attorney attempt to say that the People who were here on this land before any English, Spanish or European invaders laid claim to it made me want to figure out how to find that Choctaw pride my great-great grandfather was lacking.

Some part of my heritage is bound to this land. And yes, to many other parts of this world too. No one should be erased. No one should be ashamed of who they are.

I am Choctaw. I am Irish. I am German. I am English. I think I’m French.

Am I American? Today, that may depend on who you ask.

So Long 2025

06 Tuesday Jan 2026

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Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house, the only thing stirring was Cosmo, chasing a mechanical mouse. He sends wet kisses and loud kitty purrs to say happy Christmas to all and to all the warmest of furs for long winter nights.

Once Upon a Time

03 Friday Feb 2023

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Grandpa’s Silly Speech

I stand before you to sit behind you to tell you something I know nothing about.

There will be a Mother’s Day meeting for fathers only at the round table with four corners.

Admission free.

Pay at the door.

Seats reserved.

Sit on the floor.

It went on …

Memory compilation from Judy, Mimi, Becky and Laurie—previously known as the Walker girls

Why I’m an Editor, Not a Teacher

25 Saturday Sep 2021

Posted by in Keri Losavio

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When I went to college, my double major, English and French, qualified me for one job, according to my guidance counselors: teaching.

But I didn’t want to teach. The education classes I took were populated with students I wouldn’t have wanted teaching my (hypothetical) kids! To be a good teacher, you have to have patience and meet kids where they are.

Still, I needed to work, and a family friend who was a school principal offered me a substitute teaching job. That’s what proved I wasn’t cut out to be a teacher.

Somewhere, a former snotty blonde may remember me as the B**** who told her that just because she was 18 didn’t make her an adult. Making good choices and taking responsibility for her life would be a good start.

She had told me that being 18 made her an adult and gave her the right to make her own choices about what to do. I remember telling her she had one thing right: It was her choice if she wanted to graduate. And reading Glamour and painting her fingernails in English class wasn’t the way to go about reaching that goal.

After that, I found my first job as a proofreader.

Thank you, Larry, for giving me a chance. You taught me to take a chance and do what I wanted to do, not what I was expected to do.

20 Years Ago

11 Saturday Sep 2021

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As John and I watched TV 20 years ago, seeing the already burning WTC North Tower, I looked at John in horror and said, “We’re at war. We’ve just been attacked.”

He was sure it was an accident, having seen small planes crash into the Empire State Building.

“Maybe,” I said, hoping he was right. “No sane pilot would fly into a building when they could ditch in the river.”

Then we saw a plane fly into the South Tower of the WTC.

2,977 people were immediately killed in the attacks.

Of those who died during the initial attacks and the subsequent collapses of the Towers, 343 were New York City firefighters, 23 were New York City police officers, 37 were officers at the Port Authority and 8 were responding EMS personnel, including FDNY paramedics CARLOS LILLO and RICARDO QUINN.

I went to work at first, before being sent home. Then I spent weeks talking to people so I could help tell the stories of the EMS providers who died and the emergency response to the attack.

Cecilia Lillo and Virginia Quinn, you are in my thoughts today.

For a brief moment on 9/11, the world stood with the U.S. in horror. Instead of taking that moment to forge lasting alliances, we went to war. The horror of planes deliberately crashing into the WTC, the Pentagon and a field in Shanksville, Pa., in the morning was followed by the further horror of bombs and guns in Afghanistan that very night.

I wish the children of those killed in the attacks had been able to grow up with their parents to love and support them.

I wish we had not left a generation of Afghan and Iraqi children orphans in the wake of this tragedy.

The lesson of this tragedy? An eye for an eye leads to a sightless world. 20 years later, the living memory is fading into history.

Hannah Elizabeth Sims

28 Sunday Mar 2021

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September 18, 1966–March 20, 2021

Hannah Elizabeth Sims, age 54, passed away on Saturday, March 20, 2021, in Nayarit, Mexico, due to a sudden-onset, catastrophic illness.

Born Sept. 18, 1966, in San Jose, Calif., to Charles Arthur Sims and Shirley Sims (nee Small), Hannah started life as the youngest of five children. A long-time resident of, and family law attorney in, Berkeley, Calif., Hannah was known as a tenacious and passionate advocate for women (especially those in abusive situations), people with mental illness and the homeless.

“Hannah lived far more than most ever will,” said her husband, James Larkins. “She had compassion, a contagious smile, devastating wit, boundless heart and charm. She was a good friend. We are blessed by her memory, spirit and values.”

Hannah graduated with honors from the University of California, Berkeley, with a degree in political science, before earning her juris doctorate at the College of William and Mary, Marshall-Wythe School of Law, Williamsburg, Va.

Described by family members as “a force of nature,” Hannah had no time for liars, fakes or time-wasters. But “she was the most radiant and generous person most of us will ever know,” said Mr. Larkins.

Hannah is survived by her husband, James Larkins; children (with Robert Bush) Emmet Bush and Charles Bush; step-children Tyler Larkins and Madelyn Larkins; father Charles A. Sims; step-mother Nancy Adams; mother Shirley (Sims) Hall; siblings, Mark Sims, Murray Sims, Heather Sims and Matthew Sims; and a large extended family.

A Zoom memorial will be held April 11, and an in-person memorial will be announced and held once possible.

In lieu of flowers, her family requests that contributions be made in Hannah’s name to Narika, a nonprofit organization that promotes women’s independence, economic empowerment and well-being by helping domestic violence survivors with advocacy, support and education (Narika.org).