repost out of the archives
Back to school changes even the lives of those with no kids, or need to go back to school themselves. I live in a hub of schools – at least 8 within walking distance of my place. The start of term means more police cars driving up and down our laneway, fresh tags on our garage door and clumps of smoking teens by the little store that only opens for the school term (2019 note: closed a few years ago).
Some years I sign up for some sort of fall workshop – past years have been the UofT poetry master class, Jacob Scheier’s writing about loss at Ryerson, Spoken Word with Andrea Thompson at OCAD – this year I twigged (thanks to Lizzie Violet) to an Allan Turner workshop: Make-a-Scene – it is lead by a zombie clown, so my spoken-word might become spooken-word in time for my Go…
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