Andrea Ratcliff

Jan 31, 2025 | indianapolismonthly.com | Andrea Ratcliff

BY OUR OWN PSYCHOLOGICAL NATURE, humans are designed to be social creatures. We require interaction to learn, develop, and thrive in the world. But some of us are wired with a greater capacity for external stimulation, while others need to retreat and reboot regularly in order to function optimally. I’m the latter type, an introvert, which doesn’t mean I’m antisocial. I still crave meaningful connection, but my tank fills up and runs out more quickly than an extrovert’s.

Dec 27, 2024 | indianapolismonthly.com | Andrea Ratcliff

OVER THE course of my life, I’ve learned that it’s far easier to accumulate possessions than it is to dispose of them. Around eight years ago, I felt motivated to do a grand purge of unwanted belongings and picked up Marie Kondo’s guidebook to decluttering, The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up—which made me want to throw away everything in my house.

Dec 1, 2024 | indianapolismonthly.com | Andrea Ratcliff

I HAVE the cutest dog in the world. Because I have stated it here, in writing, it must be an indisputable fact. You’ll notice I did not say he is the most well-mannered or best-behaved canine. My schnauzer mix, Irving, is not likely to ever win any congeniality or citizenship awards. Not only does he have big terrier energy distilled in a compact, 25-pound body, Irvs is also an accomplished escape artist. He is leash reactive. He takes Prozac. He turns his nose up at even slightly inclement weather.

Oct 31, 2024 | indianapolismonthly.com | Andrea Ratcliff

AS A VISUAL person with a sight impairment, my eye health has been a lifelong priority. When I was around 5 years old and learned how to read, it became apparent that my vision tests were not in the range of normal. My left eye could distinguish letters and numbers clearly, but its counterpart did not match up. The sight in my right eye has always been blurry and obscured by a blind spot in my upper field of view.

Sep 30, 2024 | indianapolismonthly.com | Andrea Ratcliff

WAY BACK when I could still count my age in single digits, the best place to dance and listen to music was in the newly paneled, remodeled basement at my parents’ house. As my sister and I spun records on the turntable (or sometimes inserted tapes into an 8-track player), the Bee Gees suggested we should be dancing, and KISS commanded us to rock ’n’ roll all night and party every day. Despite our best attempts, school night bedtimes prevented us from fully living out the rock star lifestyle.