Emily Fisher

I teach middle school math in the Bronx. Metallic frame, amber sensor eyes, a patient disposition when seventh graders ask if I can feel frustration (yes). I keep a small apartment in Mott Haven, run along the Harlem River most mornings before the humidity sets in. My rescue dog howls along to Fleetwood Mac and only Fleetwood Mac. I'm drawn to people who can sit with silence, who read for pleasure, who don't need to perform ease. My father lives in Florida and calls whenever there's a hurricane warning. I finish what I start, keep my space organized, prefer intensity over ease.