In the last few months, I have been deeply hurt by hate crimes, the fatal police shootings and incidents of terrorism that have unfolded in the United States and around the world. Needless to say, I have been distracted. It’s been a struggle to work, write and plan for the fall semester. After stringing together words and sentences that made no sense, I caught myself staring blankly at my screen. A single tear ran down my cheek. I paused.
Not knowing what to do, I opened up a blank document and started to write.
Giving myself permission to write was like a breath of fresh air. My shoulders relaxed. The knots in my stomach softened. I wasn’t any less sad, scared or angry. But I felt like I could keep going. I returned to my poem, day after day. I read it and reread it. Playing with its structure. Adding lines, replacing words and manipulating stanzas. Deleting parts that didn’t fit. After two weeks of work, I produced a poem that I was ready to share (included below).
As we begin a new school year, it is important to consider how we are going to create spaces for students to process what is happening in their lives, neighborhoods and communities. The poem I crafted not only allowed me to process the recent tragic events, but it also opened up opportunities for me to discuss them with my family, friends and colleagues. It gave me space to be sad and angry. But it also encouraged me to research how I might help interrupt these atrocities, transforming my feelings of helplessness into feelings of empowerment and hope. Giving myself permission to return to my writing day after day also helped me focus on my tasks at hand. Creative-writing opportunities have the potential to help students do the same.
“(A)wake”
Today I am tired.
My legs are heavy.
My eyes are heavy.
My heart is heavy.
Exhaustion.
Not from a lack of sleep.
Not from working hard.
Not from the summer heat.
But from witnessing
all of the people
who are being
senselessly murdered
across the globe.
Terrorism at home
Terrorism abroad
by those who
threaten our safety
and by those who are
supposed to keep us safe.
25 people here
50 people there
massacred by
extremists in
familiar and
unexpected places.
Women and men
girls and boys
being slain by
drones intended to
destroy radical strongholds
in the Middle East.
Black and brown men
one after another being
shot dead by
uniformed officers
during routine stops on
America’s streets.
When they aren’t being ripped
from their families by guns
they are being
caged in prison at
unprecedented rates.
And when they aren’t being
sent to jail
they are moving about the world in paralyzing fear
of how people perceive them and
what might unfold
if they happen to be in
the wrong place at the wrong time.
And when it is not black and brown men,
it is the black and brown women
who are blamed, labeled, and misread
underestimated and pushed out
doing everything they can to
hold their families and communities together.
And then there are the black and brown children
whose rhythm is stilled, spirit is quieted, and
play is criminalized.
Whose playdates are cancelled and
friendships are broken
because of the color of their skin.
And when it is not members of the African-American community,
it is Muslims
practicing their faith;
it is immigrant and undocumented families
seeking a better life;
it is the LBGTQ community
fighting for their rights;
it is the poor and unemployed
working tirelessly to make ends meet.
Today my heart is crying
tears of anger
tears of sorrow
tears of confusion, but also
tears of fire.
We must wake up and
join those who have
no choice but to be awake.
We must band together to:
imagine wildly
speak loudly
act boldly
demanding love not hate.
Only then
will we be able to
grow our hope and heal our hearts
in ways that allow us to
live together in peace.
To help make all of this end
we must join those
who are already awake.
Editor’s note: “(A)wake” is available in TT’s literacy-based curriculum, Perspectives for a Diverse America. Search for the poem in the Central Text Anthology. (Free registration required.)
An elementary school teacher at heart, Kobe is currently a teacher educator and doctoral candidate at the University of Georgia in Athens, Georgia.
