#52essays2017

Reader, I'm committing to writing one essay per week this 2017. In what I hope proves to be a generative exercise--a launching pad for practice as an essayist and poet--this challenge comes to me from a VONA/Voices colleague, Vanessa Martir, who I had the pleasure of meeting in Miami this past summer. Adelante.

Quick reflection on “When My Brother Was an Aztec”

Way back in October I began reading Natalie Diaz’s poetry collection, When My Brother Was an Aztec. It was on my radar for sometime. Finally, I jumped into it, and found, to my surprise, more confidence in my voice as a neurodivergent poet. I finished it this past weekend. The second section of the book--intimately … Continue reading Quick reflection on “When My Brother Was an Aztec”

A freewrite on high schoolers, my job, writing, and mediocracy

Reader, I’ve been good with keeping to my boundaries. Work should stay at work, which includes checking my email and making mental to do lists. I’ve done good. Mastered it, even. What I can’t shake, though, are the students’ experiences and environments I hear about and witness everyday. This, paired with the questions and reality … Continue reading A freewrite on high schoolers, my job, writing, and mediocracy

‘A white space is a white space if you let it’

I met up with a close friend for dinner a few weeks ago. We took to Downtown Culver City on a Wednesday night for a pizza and drinks special. On this day--and every day we meet up, really--we reflect and question and appreciate all that has influenced our decisions. We met in college during the … Continue reading ‘A white space is a white space if you let it’

Before poet, I was athlete

I've been concerned about a few questions since last summer. Before a poet, I was an athlete. With sports, namely soccer, came a relentless expectation to be unfeeling, disciplined, and physical. As I write this, I’m reminded that both sports and poetry call on the body and mind in similar ways. I'm grappling now in … Continue reading Before poet, I was athlete

Body as Countdown to Explosion

“What does the body hold? And where?” my poet friend offered to the room as she read her free write exercise. I listened, thought deeply. In the privacy of my journal, later, I added, “How does the body release? And when?”. I’ve always been concerned about the body, and it’s uncompromising betrayal. I’ve got a … Continue reading Body as Countdown to Explosion