A is for activism
Like any angsty, pre-teen girl growing up in Fairfield County, Connecticut, I read a lot of Sylvia Plath. I thumbed through “The Bell Jar” with a reverence that bordered on the religious and dog-eared my copy of “Ariel” until every corner of every page was creased. Mostly, though, I was captivated by her diaries. Plath’s diaries, which unravelled everything from human nature to “big, dark, hunky boy[s],” touched a raw nerve in my adolescent self. And so, of course, I bought myself one....