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My Mother Posing for Me is one of a series of photographs that Sultan made of his parents, Irving and Jean, from 1983 to 1992. They were published in his book, Pictures from Home, which explored the…
Meanwhile Joy was telling me things about her life that I’d never known as a single-minded kid searching the neighborhood for a grape to burst—Joy was tossing into this agitated pot of memory called…
When I was born, Robert G. Mehlman was at the peak of his glory. He was more than a major talent. But within five years there wasn’t much of that glory left, and my mother sometimes compared him to a…
My mother and I are out walking. I ask if she remembers the women in that building in the Bronx. “Of course,” she replies. I tell her I’ve always thought sexual rage was what made them so crazy.…
I am humbled by this nomination and so grateful to Al Gore for choosing me. And I want you to know tonight that I will work my heart out to make Al Gore the next president of the United States.
As I…
My own efforts to wrestle with the Ishmael story came from my fierce fears and hopes for modern Israel, my urgency to discover how Israel could live in peace, my efforts to talk with angry, fearful…
Merv:Sara, can I have my shirt? I’ve got a lunch date with the rabbi of Dublin.Sara:Mervyn, you came all the way to Queen Anne’s Gate. Please sit a minute.Tess:Sit down, Merv. I’ll get your shirt. Win…
Gootie, my grandma, was a short, large-boned woman who made the kitchen her kingdom. She entered the living room only on special occasions—like Monday night to watch “I Love Lucy.” She had to think…
Few children know the stories of their parents. During my childhood, I knew only that mine were an impossible match—which did not prevent my mother from spending day and night at my father’s bedside…
I remember the moment when it dawned on me that my father did not impress the world at large as a powerful figure. We were at a camera store on the Plaza—a faux-Andalusian shopping district that…