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Photo: Jorge Santiago

The Playground Trap

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Nowhere is the neontocracy more present than the playground, which is as much an anti-space as it is a space. There is no drinking, no in-depth conversation, no reading of books. There is no consumption of food that hasn’t been cut into tiny pieces and shuttled in tiny containers. There are no adults unattached to a child or children. And, at the same time, in bars and many restaurants and galleries and parties and coffee shops in the U.S. there are no children, there are few parents of young children, and the parents of young children present have put their parenthood on mute. A neonatocracy, I discover shortly after arrival in the U.S., is very spatially segregated

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apron

Homework

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Recently I noticed that whenever I answer the front door wearing an apron, the person on the doorstep looks me up and down. A flicker of surprise crosses their face. Whether it’s the postman, the plumber, or a friend, there is the same moment of surprise. This flicker got me thinking: What is normal for me, putting on an apron to mix dough, vacuum the stairs, or tip stock into a colander, is less so for others. Wearing an apron to the front door is as mildly provocative as opening it in my dressing gown. At the very least it isn’t what the person on the doorstep expects me to be wearing.

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