2024 is underway + flourishing
soy la misma newsletter
There's no snow in February, and just the other day I went biking with a light sweater on. I love the feeling of the wind caressing my face, the ride makes me feel like I'm ten again. But I also don't love that there's no snow on the ground on a usual February Minnesotan winter. And I do not care if Minnesota decides to give us a winter storm because it should be doing so! I recently read an article about the lakes in Minnesota and the early thawing may be negatively impacting our wildlife. I don't remember every fact exactly but the early signs of Spring can indicate a bad season for animals (e.g., hunting for food, migrating, and creating their habitat).
I'm still teaching full-time and it's starting to show... I'm at an alternative learning center (LC), so some of my students already do not want to be there, and adding on the 3rd quarter of the year is like pulling teeth. I'm constantly thinking about varying activities to try, as well as thinking of various ways of teaching that may be better for them. Some days are good and other days can feel like I'm not making any waves. Being a teacher of young adults is H-A-R-D. This new semester, I'm taking a field-experience course which is having me go to the middle school each day for an hour to hang out with sixth-graders. It's a complete switch from my everyday students. On the first day, I walked into a student having a meltdown over his grade, an A-. My students at the LC are happy with a passing credit of a D-.
In other news, I've been taking a six-week workshop with the Kenyon Review. Workshopping has led to frustrating moments to AHA! moments. I went from feeling like a major writing newb to feeling like, "Well, sh*t, maybe I do know what I'm doing." Some of the faculty that I've had the pleasure of meeting are Tina Cane, Pádraig Ó Tuama, and Marlin M. Jenkins. In each workshop, I gain so much from the other participants too. Their work encourages me to play with style more, or with my imagery. And I'm so sad it's coming to an on March 2nd! Being accepted to the Kenyon Review Writer's Workshop had me ultimately surprised, but because they allowed me to enter their virtual space, I'm so hungry to continue venturing into more intimidating writing spaces. Fingers crossed I can be in another incredible writer's workshop this year!
I'm also excited to share that I'm a new Community Voice with the National Folklife Network (Northern Plains). In the last year, I've been good at saying no to most boards/committees requests that don't align with my energy. And so when the Northern Plains Community Connector, Peter Strong, reached out I did a deep dive on the opportunity -- I researched the org, the people, the work, the time commitment, and the requirements. Most importantly, I asked myself, "Am I ready to jump back into community work?" Ultimately, I decided the vibes were there. I'm excited to see what comes from this work (especially, full of an amazing group of cultural bearers and community leaders across the US and Puerto Rico).
What I've Been Watching:
Ted Lasso S1 and S2
Abbott Elementary S3
Not Dead Yet S2
Award Shows (Up next: the Oscars)
What I've Been Reading:
The Early American Modernist Authors Anthology (a few of my fave: Willa Cathers, Sherwood Anderson, Carl Sandburg
Poems! Lots and lots of poems from my workshops!
What I've Been Replaying Lately:
Beyonce and her country-era music
J-Lo's This Is Me...Now 👀 (the instrumental music is what gets me)
Anyone But You by Still Woozy
One of the many poems from Pádraig Ó Tuama's workshop:
From Blossoms
From blossoms comes
this brown paper bag of peaches
we bought from the boy
at the bend in the road where we turned toward
signs painted Peaches.
From laden boughs, from hands,
from sweet fellowship in the bins,
comes nectar at the roadside, succulent
peaches we devour, dusty skin and all,
comes the familiar dust of summer, dust we eat.
O, to take what we love inside,
to carry within us an orchard, to eat
not only the skin, but the shade,
not only the sugar, but the days, to hold
the fruit in our hands, adore it, then bite into
the round jubilance of peach.
There are days we live
as if death were nowhere
in the background; from joy
to joy to joy, from wing to wing,
from blossom to blossom to
impossible blossom, to sweet impossible blossom.
Li-Young Lee, “From Blossoms” from Rose, BOA 1986
Know a poet, eager writer, aspiring storyteller, or young teacher, please share with them my newsletter!