We Are From
I am from creativity, dad’s sketching and mom’s knitting.
I am from the Motown Era, drowning myself in music.
I am an artist, and I can’t help being one.
I am from the father who laughed so big that his gold tooth
glistened in the pale evening light,
from his dry wit and my mother’s love of family—
my parent’s love of music.
I am from my sister’s mistakes,
her dark paths and choices.
I am from the place where I AM my brother’s keeper,
from understanding and love.
I am from God,
from the spirit within me
I look inside for answers that sometimes never come.
I am from the gaze of male eyes
as my teen-aged body and I walked by.
I am from a family of women warriors
who have shown me
if you want it, you will have it—
from the supportive net that seems to hold no matter what.
I am from small houses
that never seem small until we revisit them,
from the mountains that I have never climbed.
I am from too many places to remember.
I am from cooking, cooking, cooking...
and now an empty nest.
The roaring has gone out of me.
I live in the real world—come on out here and enjoy it.
I am from so many brief memories;
hard to write and easy to see in my mind—
And I return each day from where I’ve been.
Compiled by Pauletta Hansel
from writings by participants of the
Morning Session
Writing Our Lives
University of Cincinnati Women’s Leadership Conference
February 22, 2002
In 2002 I attended the Women's Leadership Conference at the University of Cincinnati. It is a day-long conference beginning with breakfast, networking and a keynote speaker. The attendees are offered a choice between several morning sessions, then a break for lunch, more session choices in the afternoon, then the day is wrapped up with another keynote speaker.
This poem is the work of approximately 20 women done in a one hour session titled "Writing our Lives." led by poet, Pauletta Hansel. Pauletta Hansel has published two books of poetry: "Divining" and "First Person" and is co-director of Grailville, a place outside of Cincinnati, "A center for retreats, spirituality, women’s empowerment, the environment, and good old peace and quiet."
First the participants were given five minutes to free write completing the phrase “I am from.” Then a “Talking Stone” was passed to each woman. As each woman held the stone she read out loud what she had written. The rest of the participants were told to listen and jot down phrases, lines or words hat spoke to them from each woman's reading. As each woman finished her reading Pauletta asked the other participants to share their favorite phrase. Whichever phrase surfaced as the strongest, Pauletta wrote it on the board. When the session had ended there was a line from each woman's reading on the board.
Afterwards, Pauletta rearranged the lines to form the poem "We Are From." Our keynote speaker at the end of the day was Nikki Giovanni and as a surprise to our group, Nikki read our poem to the whole conference. What a thrill!
What truly amazes me now, as I read the poem again, is how almost every line, even though written by another woman, speaks truly of where I am from.
I'm sitting here in my wage-slave cubicle and I sneak a peek at my webmail account. There I find the warm and caring communications that I've become accustomed to from my Artella colleagues and a smile stretches across my face. Since I started working part time for Artella I have discovered a work environment that I thought only existed in fairy tales.
What a contrast to the treatment I experience at my "real" job. Here at "corruporate university" my role as executive staff assistant is looked upon as little more than a house servant. All the things I do right are taken for granted and never acknowledged and the occassional mistake is blown out of proportion.
At Artella creative ideas are encouraged and celebrated, Angel Awards distributed on a regular basis and if a mistake is made or a detail forgotten, a colleague backs you up and then asks with caring concern, "Are you OK?"
At "corruporate university" the "powers that be" don't care if your mother is dying or you have a serious health issue. In fact, extended absences to attend to some of life's lower blows are factored negatively in your job performance evaluation.
At Artella, cards are sent, caring emails are exchanged and beautiful quilts and artworks created for the colleague who is troubled.
At "corruporate university" staff meetings are spent listening to self-important talking heads spouting very little useful information and displaying an embarassing absence of leadership.
At Artella staff meetings, lovely, funny songs are written and sung; staff are recognized for the work they do; brainstorming sessions are a flurry of unrestrained creativity and energy; and each meeting ends with scribbles and words of gratitude in riotous color on the grati-fitti board.
Yep, even as greed, cynicism and despair grip the world of big business and deflate our economy, there are still business owners who believe that if you give you will receive tenfold back. I don't know about you, but Artellaland is definitely the world I want to live in.
I realized today that I can let go now.
That in spite of all the unhappy memories that have surfaced since my mother died in 2006, and the conflict that has settled between me and my abusive father and the distance that has grown between me and my sister, I still have a pretty wonderful life. The universe has blessed me over and over again through it all.
The bad memories are just that...memories. I realized that there are happy moments to remember (although it saddens me that my parents and siblings were not part of most of those happy moments.)
I sense that there has always been another force, energy, spirit watching over me and leading me. Call it God, the Universe, the Holy Spirit, my Guardian Angel or my Spirit Guide, I haven't been able to name it yet. I just know that I can look around me and see that I've lived a pretty wonderful life.
And for that I am very, very grateful.
I know there are many artists, and I am one of them, that incorporate "found" objects into their art. Often when I walk in the small park on the west side of our village I'll pick up feathers, acorns, unusual-shaped pieces of wood and anything else that is interesting to me.
The riverbank is a rich source of "found" objects, especially in the spring after the flood waters have settled back to normal pool. The raging current of the Ohio River in flood stage can whisk anything from the riverbank -- whether it be an entire tree or an empty bottle -- then deposit it miles downriver when the flood waters subside.
BUT, I found a resource recently that I bet none of you have tapped into (and may not have the nerve to either).
A friend's son was engaged to be married and I was invited to a bridal shower in honor of his bride-to-be. As she ripped open each beautifully wrapped gift my eyes looked hungrily at all the discarded tissue paper going into the garbage bag.
Do I dare ask to take the bride's garbage home with me?" "Would I embarrass my friend?" "Should I be embarrassed?" asked my boring left brain.
"Oh, look at the beautiful sparkly paper!" "And what about that lavender tissue with the pink bubbles?" argued my artist's right brain.
The debate when on in my head as I watched each piece of beautiful pink, lavender, blue and sparkly paper stuffed into the plastic garbage bag destined for the land-fill.
Finally in the end the right brain won and I went home with, not one, but three plastic garbage bags full of "found" art paper!
Where do you find your "found" treasures ?
Dear Cheryl,
I am writing to tell you how much I really do love you.
Remember, I was the one who cheered you on when those around you tried to hold you back. It was me whispering in your ear "You can do this!" when you were ready to give up. Yes, those were my eyes looking back at you in the mirror showing you your true beauty. And those were my tears that cried for the pain you felt when they wouldn't let you be you. I'm the one who infused the strength in your soul to stand up for yourself and hold on to your dreams. And I'm the one who opened your heart when you finally found someone to love you back.
It makes me sad when I have to reassure you that the love is there and always has been. That it's ok to accept my love. I've loved you from the moment of your beginning. And I will love you til the end of time.
All my love always,
Me
'
The child must know that she is a miracle, that since the beginning of the world there hasn't been, and until the end of the world there will not be, another child like her.' - Pablo Casals
This week marked the beginning of winter quarter at the University of Cincinnati. I am a part-time student working towards my BA in journalism. This quarter I'm taking Advanced Reporting: Business Reporting and Photojournalism. I always get excited the first week of classes. Learning energizes me.
A little background
Thirty years ago I started as a freshman at UC fresh out of high school. I wanted to write and was fortunate to be offered a position on the college newspaper at UC, The News Record. UC didn't have a journalism program at the time, but writing for The News Record gave me experience in news reporting. AND it also soured me on news reporting. I and the rest of the reporters were sent out to 'dig up dirt' where ever we could find it. That wasn't the kind of writing I wanted to do. For many different reasons, I won't go into here, I didn't finish my freshman year.
I eventually met the love of my life, got married, had children and have made a pretty nice life for myself. My family is such a gift in my life. My husband is my best friend and my sons are a delight. We live comfortably in a beautiful home on the Ohio River. We have wonderful friends and share many creative interests. I only have one regret and that was quitting college.
Money and time had always been my roadblocks in returning to school. Several years ago a friend suggested I look into finding employment at the university to take advantage of the tuition remission benefit. Not all universities offer this benefit but UC does. My husband was supportive so I didn't hesitate. I applied for four or five positions and was eventually hired into an administrative support position. Six months after I was hired I began taking classes.
I still wanted to write and I had also rekindled my love of art along the way. UC offered a degree in humanities that required two focuses chosen from six disciplines. I was thrilled to find choices in journalism and fine arts. I got to take art classes in our nationally acclaimed College of Design, Art, Architecture and Planning, known as DAAP. I have been privileged to take several classes from Jenny Wohlfarth, a freelance magazine writer and former magazine editor who has become my mentor over the years and is now my academic advisor. I learned I could write inspirational stories or share valuable information to help people and that counted as journalism too. In 2005 I earned my Associate of Arts degree.
Synchronicity?
Now here's the synchronistic, freaky part. Thirty years later after I first set foot on this campus, for the first time in UC history, the university is offering a BA in journalism. The head of the new journalism department, Jon Hughes, has been a professor in UC's English department for thirty years and has lobbied for this program for almost as long, and it wasn't until last year that it finally came to fruition. It's like they were waiting for me! Or I was waiting for them! Either way I'm thrilled to be part of it.
My assignment for the business reporting class is to profile a small business owner. I had lots of ideas for that one. Yesterday I interviewed the owner of a new restaurant up the street and will write a profile about him. And I am really excited about the photojournalism class I'm not only going to be learning more about photography, I get to learn how to develop pictures in a dark room! Our final will be a photo essay that tells a story. I'm even thinking about joining the next Artella zine swap and will use my photos and writing from this quarter. Maybe I'll even draw a teddy bear!
Yep, I'm energized! I'll keep you posted.