i showed my students a picture of

my childhood home today

“I’m from a big white house

with the giant maple tree still standing”

These were the words of my

“Where I’m From” poem

“Que rico estuviera” YanCarlos called me out

not seeing the old Chevy Nova,

four bicycles on top,

my dad’s homemade trailer behind,

my mother, father, sister, me,

our dog, our cat,

inside the tiny car,

ready to drive 1200 miles

for a future in Denver

Denver, a mile high,

a million jobs,

or so we… THEY… thought?

How deceptive a photo can be,

bragging riches

when there were just empty pockets,

an almost-lost mortgage,

a pile of debt.

Yet here we are,

here I am,

begging them to write me a poem

even if it’s in Spanish,

Even if they haven’t a single photo of their home,

their family,

their past.

Where they are from

Is

And will always be

so much more painful

Than that old Chevy.

you will never see
a light as bright as this light 
walking your dog home

twenty-five years in

sometimes kindness wins
with a crocheted coaster egg
erasing dog’s bite

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8WXmeY7/

my heart in shambles 
as i give them everything 
only to be robbed

the time is so short

when we’re all together now

so we soak it up

rejuvenation 
lies in snowy peaks, hot springs 
we soak, our soul sings

hot springs renew us
and bring us all together 
so sweet, as they’ve grown

My amazing Eritrean paraprofessional made an entire batch of sambusas for me! They’re absolutely delicious, and were still warm this morning, so I know she probably rose hours before dawn to prepare them.

She is one of millions who escaped genocidal conflicts that never seem to end. 😭

I wish the world would have a #ceasefire

Because if you could taste these spicy, crispy, delectable sambusas brought for Christmas from a Muslim, you could put your mouth and heart around peace. 😭💔

you will never know 
how much i hate you for this
and i won’t forgive