Dear Students,
I’m writing this poem or letter or essay or whatever this ends up being because you mean a lot to me and I don’t know how else to express this without wasting your class time and/or money.
The music faded away. The screen lights dimmed. The credits started to roll.
I hovered my fingers over the touchpad for a split second of indecision and then pressed replay. I was watching a much anticipated short film expanding the breadth of my universe through a song by my favorite artist.
I used to have a notebook that held all of my creations. These creations were words that lingered on a white page. Somehow, these words that sat alongside each other built some of the pieces that I absolutely adored. I think of poetry as my first steps into the writing world.
One of the first friends I came out to was a woman a lot like me. We’d both been raised Catholic and were white women of a certain class and liberal sensibility. Balancing mothering and working. Critical of and still participating in the patriarchy.
I find myself reassessing life each year. My ups and downs, my milestones, and my goals. I tend to think of my life in seasons. Not months or years or even weeks or days.
