Kali Fox‐Jirgl

Aside from my birthplace and my mother’s name and birthdate, it was an empty page. No name for me, not even the placeholder of “baby girl.” Just a blank line where I began. Seeing it stirred a familiar sadness, a reminder of how little acknowledgment there had been of my arrival in the world.  My father’s line was empty too, the box for “illegitimate” marked yes. And yet, for the…