ESSAY: Born Identities

ESSAY: Born Identities

By Tom Robotham When I was growing up in Staten Island in the 1960s, kids used to ask each other, “What are you?” No further explanation was needed. Everyone knew it meant, what’s your nationality? In my neighborhood, most answered, “Italian” or “Irish”—never mind...
ESSAY: Born Identities

ESSAY: The Summer of Our Discontent

By Tom Robotham November 5th will mark a special anniversary for me: Fifty years earlier on that date, I voted for the first time. I remember the moment vividly—and the sense of pride I felt as I closed the black curtain and flipped the lever next to the name Hugh...
ESSAY: Born Identities

ESSAY: A Moveable Feast

By Tom Robotham The first time I visited Paris, in 1999, I was smitten. Unfortunately, due to financial and time constraints, another 17 years would pass before I was able to return. Since then, I’ve tried to make up for lost time, visiting the city every chance I...
ESSAY: Born Identities

ESSAY: What Kind of American Are You?

By Tom Robotham Last month, I saw Alex Garland’s much-discussed film Civil War. Since then, I’ve not been able to stop thinking about it. I don’t mean to imply that I think it’s a great movie. I continue to have mixed feelings about it. Nevertheless, the specter it...
ESSAY: Born Identities

ESSAY: Leaving The Treehouse

By Tom Robotham For the last few weeks, I’ve been looking for a new apartment. It’s not that I’m unhappy with my current place. Not by a long shot. For 17 years, it has served me well. In the afternoons, on clear days, the living room is bathed in sunlight filtered by...
ESSAY: Born Identities

ESSAY: The Slow Creep of Dementia

By Tom Robotham Recent speculations that President Biden is afflicted with dementia have caused me to reflect on the disturbing experience of watching my mother descend into her own delusional state of mind.  I’m not sure exactly when she began to show signs of it. I...