"Where the Story Begins and Ends: Practically a Fairy Tale" by Joy Castro

I didn’t know what graduate school was. I’d never known where professors came from. Never wondered. They all seemed like creatures of a different ilk: rich, clever people who sprouted full-blown from their comfortable, book-lined rooms. I couldn’t imagine myself becoming such a being. I’d spent summers digging ditches, nights washing dishes. I’d machined artificial hip joints in a factory, scooped ice cream for tourists, waited tables on people who saw me as a thing. Nursing my baby on demand, I saw myself in utilitarian ways. 

Posted on March 1, 2015 .