I Loved School. I Studied Like Crazy.

Ok, It Was Black, It Was Below Grade, I Was Female, Asian American, Young, Too Young To Have Served. Yet I Think None Of The Opposition In That Sense Hurt Me.

Every Memorial In Its Time Has A Different Goal.

It Terrified Me To Have An Idea That Was Solely Mine To Be No Longer A Part Of My Mind, But Totally Public.

We Were Unusually Brought Up; There Was No Gender Differentiation. I Was Never Thought Of As Any Less Than My Brother.

I Though About What Death Is, What A Loss Is. A Sharp Pain That Lessens With Time, But Can Never Quite Heal Over. A Scar. The Idea Occurred To Me There On The Site. Take A Knife And Cut Open The Earth, And With Time The Grass Would Heal It. As If You Cut Open The Rock And Polished It.