Weekly Wide-Awake #53

[The Stage is on Fire] is a page-turner in which, much like life, there are no easy answers and yet each step of the journey yields insight and hope. This work of heart must not be missed!

Melanie Faith

Creative Writing Teacher, Essayist & Poet.

Katie Steedly’s first-person piece [The Unspeakable Gift] is a riveting retelling of her participation in a National Institutes of Health study that aided her quest to come to grips with her life of living with a rare genetic disorder. Her writing is superb.

The Society of Professional Journalists

In recognition of receiving the Dateline Award for the Washingtonian Magazine essay, The Unspeakable Gift.

I thank you … It is the authenticity of your “class notes”; and it is the delicacy and skill with which you present the nuances of classroom life and the actuality of your students’ and fellow teachers’ lives.

Maxine Greene

Philosopher and Education Scholar

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Diving. Place. Inaugural Poetry.

Living the Comma #25

Diving. Love Letters. Today.

I came to explore the wreck./ The words are purposes./ The words are maps./ I came to see the damage that was done/ and the treasures that prevail.

From “Diving into the Wreck” — Adrienne Rich

Dear Writer Friends,

Writing as diving. Writing as moving in and through water into the thick of memory, the murky weeds of certainty, the darkness of depth, the strangeness of impermanence, the pain of breath, the stillness of story.

We paddle down, circling fact, sifting opinion, building belief, absorbing context, assuaging fear, celebrating joy, swaddling shadow, and cradling anger. We see—perhaps for the first time. Having the courage to dive, we see. We are wordless, and we see. We see. We write. We change.

That’s the thing about diving into wrecks. Sometimes, miracles happen around wrecks. Whole ecosystems evolve and metal becomes reef. The wreck breathes new life into a broken world. New life emerges from the wreckage. Strength breaks through what’s left. Mercy swims like fish and beauty. Hope seeps around dark steel corners. Down deep. We wake up.

Read entire post here.

Spit and Spaghetti #17

Poetry Foundation

This Be The Place

The Gist

I live in a 100-year-old renovated factory loft next to a historically designated brick factory/art gallery, The B. Mifflin Hood Brick Factory. The brick factory caught my eye the minute I saw it. It is now a home and art gallery. As a naturally curious person — with researcher’s skills — I began to find out about the space. In digging around, the artist couple who lives there told me the story of the original brick company owner, B. Mifflin Hood. Hood advocated against convict leasing. That work provided the impetus for historical designation. This 1000-word story will explore — the power of paying attention to our next door, the lessons of art and history and place, and a future where place intentionally informs, connects, and inspires. I will take 2 months to complete a draft.

Read entire post here.

Poetry Might Save Us Now

Considering Inaugural Poetry During National Poetry Month

Poetry sculpts words. Poetry builds hope. Poetry restores faith. United States Presidential Inaugural Poetry can focus our gaze on our better angels — above the cruelty of dehumanization, above the violence of war, above the stench of corruption. Looking at Presidential Inaugural Poetry — which is historically rare and uniquely significant — provides a path to hope, peace, and justice. [Note: Before doing this work, I had always assumed all, or at least most, Presidents had Inaugural Poets. That is just not the case.]

Presidential Inaugural Poetry is a balm in times of pain, a meditation on our best selves, and a vision toward truth and beauty. It reminds us that our words elevate hearts and minds and actions. It reminds us that our collective wounds can be beautifully healed. It reminds us of inspiration and imagination and interdependence. I hunger for moral leadership. I thirst for the more perfect union aspired to and written about for more than two centuries. I crave what I feel when I read Inaugural Poems — the thought that we might not only survive, but thrive.

Read entire post here.

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