Peter Jennings announcing the fall of the Berlin Wall. The Exxon Valdez flooding barrels of oil into a forever-changed Alaskan sound. Chinese students gathered in Tiananmen Square for weeks of protest. The last of the Russian troops exiting Kabul, Afghanistan. The previously-secret Northrop Grumman B-2 Spirit making its first public flight.
Much changed the social world during 1989, and mother nature pummeled the Caribbean and the southeastern U.S. in the form of Hurricane Hugo. But as Stick Chick’s settled into her later twenties, she did not grasp the future implications of the events that unfolded. To her, they were water cooler chatter without personal impact.
Only a few years into carving a career spanning two decades, her days consisted of keeping home fires smoldering while working and mothering. Her child, v2.0 whom she considers the second version of herself, spent so many hours doodling in those days, that her refrigerator looked as if constructed of childhood drawings and magnets rather than the 1950’s steel sarcophagus that it was.
During quiet evenings, seated at the kitchen table when only the sound of a pencil sketching broke the silence, Stick Chick would look at the world and wonder what today—this day would be like, and she could not picture it. She only had a vague sense that it was the end of innocence.