Back in September 2017, my first semester of teaching first-year writing, I wrote a piece about phlebotomy and its queer intimacy. As I write this essay, I have a little more teaching experience under my belt. And unsurprisingly, while I teach I am still thinking about blood draws.
My pedagogical habits of mind have been fundamentally shaped by my tenure as a phlebotomist. My attention tracks other...
“Scratch the surface, and things get strange.” - Candace Vogler
Years ago, I glided needles into other people’s arms. This occurred approximately 6,000 times. As I drew the blood of 6,000 strangers, I’d think about intimacy. Since then, I’ve tried to look into the guts of that precise, bloody, and delicate relationship between my patients and I. This is an exploration of those guts.