Alanah Davis: In this new year, an allowance of curiosity, grace, and not knowing

I was still at an age where a Scholastic book fair on a day when golden-brown leaves might rustle underfoot in The Bronx or when a ham and cheese Lunchable were enough of a rare treat to excite me when I learned about fake drawer fronts. I’ll explain later. My mother, aged at what I assumed to be as young as the women on Living Single but definitely not as old as the ladies on Golden Girls, lived in a high-rise building owned by the New York City Housing Authority, known to most as the projects. The projects are known for their pungent hallway smells, metal doors, and stairs which were always of good use when the elevators were frequently broken — especially on days when you and your mom might have grocery shopped for oxtails, goldfish snacks, cabbage, and other goods at C-Town, a chain of supermarkets in the northeast.