Labor of love

Words and music

My early memories of Labor Day are shrouded with a sense of anxiety. Summer was over, a new school year was about to begin, with all the social and temporal regimen that implied. I was happier as a night owl exploring the world on my own or with a good friend. School felt like work and stress. Until it didn’t.

By my junior year in high school, I found my groove. That summer I’d participated in a…