This is the first in a series of guest posts from Dena Simmons, an activist, educator, and writer. See her bio after the jump.

One morning two years ago, I did not have a ride to work.  Instead, I had to take two buses like I did each day during my first year of teaching.  Not surprisingly, the bus arrived late, as it happens too often in the Bronx.  The Bx40 was packed with adults and children, trying to make it to their destination on time, but at the mercy of someone else’s schedule.  I worked my way to the middle of the bus for a seat through the school children’s book bags, through women’s pocketbooks, through elbows, through over-sized ...