Know My Name: A Memoir

by Chanel Miller

I’d been living with two teacups filled to the brim behind each eye, gotten used to a little spilling over every now and then.

Our relationship became a Jenga tower, and one by one we began pulling out the pieces, the structure increasingly fragile. Right

To deny my messiness would be to deny my humanity.

My default was to mirror every greeting.

Masculinity is often defined by physicality, but that initial kneeling is as powerful as the leg sweep, the tackling. Masculinity is found in the vulnerability, the crying.

reminding me of the white dots of paper that’d fall when you emptied your hole puncher.

Knowing this makes me want to swallow a match, lighting my insides on fire, my stomach a red, dripping cave, smoke pouring out my ears and nose and eyes, until I become crusty and hollow. A black, empty shell.

History shows that if you were in the minority, if no one believed you, it didn’t mean you were wrong. Rather, it meant society was slow to catch up to you.

Never fight to injure, fight to uplift. Fight