Dear readers,
I hope this finds you welcoming the summer season with some hints of joy and relaxation as the sun takes center stage. I don’t have much planned in the way of upcoming events or big announcements because most of my energy over the next few months will go into moving. I’ve been working with Eric for the last week or so, sanding and hanging doors, staining the staircase, picking paint colors and getting the sinks working. We’re so close to this big change, to living in our hard-earned home, something we’ve been working towards for over two years now. Before I roll my sleeves up and fully shift into this homemaking focus, I want to look back over the last few weeks and give you an update on the many inspiring events that took place.
In late May, I traveled to New York for the first time since moving to Detroit. When I was younger, I decided that whenever I travel somewhere I like to plan a poetry reading or book related event. It feels good to offer up something special to the place and people I’m visiting. This is my version of not arriving empty handed. Over the years, New York has always provided interesting venues for performances in hotel lobbies, tiny bookstores, backyard gardens, balconies and basements. This time around, my dear friend and fellow writer Shelby Coppola produced a more than memorable event at All Blues Musicquarium in Tribeca. The space itself was a dream come true, moody and dark, antiquated yet modern, run by beautiful people who love music and craft. Shelby and I read with poet Leemore Malka, and in between our written recitations we played records, mixing songs and stories for the most potent first edition of “Verses in Vinyl.” So many familiar faces filled the seats and the sound booming from the 1970s wood crafted amplifiers gave me a warm sense of time travel. It was an honor to perform in this magical environment. Shelby certainly made the whole thing happen and I’m so grateful that she shares her multifaceted brilliance with me.
The morning after our reading, in the middle of a wild downpour in Manhattan, I found my way into the backseat of a van for my next adventure, the true impetus for my time in New York. I was soaking wet as we headed upstate, Valerie June behind the wheel, Sarah Walko and Ayesha Ophelia completing our outstanding crew set to teach at the infamous Omega Institute. We’d been planning this retreat for months, and although all of us have much experience hosting and teaching, we’d never participated in a collaboration quite like this.
I don’t think I’m meant to write out every detail of the weekend, as it was far too expansive for the confines of a digital newsletter. I will say that Omega is incredible, a spiritual summer camp for adults, providing delicious food and familiar Humboldt feelings. We settled into our cute cabins, set up our sacred container, and proceeded to build a weekend of wonder in support of Radical Imagination, which was our course title. As a poet, my job is often to be the witness, and it was such a powerful few days of holding space, offering affirmation, and listening as a group of twenty-two strangers wove together stories of healing, songs of vision, and pathways for a brighter future. I left hopeful and ready to lead many other retreats with these three amazing women. It isn’t often that we’re given the chance to work together in such vulnerable ways and I love the idea of continuing to nurture this type of effort. More to come!
Unfortunately, I was swept up in the potent energy of the retreat and reinjured my back. I sat on the floor with my typewriter, creating poems and engaging in deep conversation, without remembering the needs of my body. I’ve been on the path to recovery ever since, babying my spine and only now, after weeks of horrific pain, am I able to move well and feel my strength return. A reminder for us all that our bodies require a very specific type of attention and endless care. We must stay vigilant and in conversation with our vessels at all times!
After closing our circle at Omega, Shelby, my real-life New York angel, came to pick me up and take me to her family home on a lake in the Adirondacks where we swam for a day and half in the cold, glorious water. Other than my hurt back, it was a perfect trip and I returned to Detroit to finish up the school year with a deep feeling of satisfaction.
I’ve been the lead writer in residence for three InsideOut programs this year. For the last six months, I’ve been teaching my students about nature and poetry, helping them complete their beautiful anthologies. To close, we organized celebrations at each of my schools and at the Detroit Zoo, honoring the hard work of all these young poets. Carrying on the Poem Forest project, we planted trees at The Grace Lee Boggs School as students read from their newly printed book of poems. At Oak Park Pepper Elementary School, we celebrated in the gym where all of my 5th graders got on stage to read from their new books, receiving seed paper and pencils to plant in their backyards. At the Detroit Zoo, we closed out our Thriving Together program with a dinner and reading, and I cried as I introduced all of our young writers who I’ve been working with for the last few years.
It was a wonderful collection of closing acts and now, as I hold these three gorgeous books in my hands, it hits me that over the last six months I’ve helped create these full bodies of work. Three books of poetry. No small task. Although it was magical, it was also very hard and I’d go so far as to say that this job kicked my butt. I’ll spend the rest of the summer reflecting on the parts of teaching for InsideOut that work for me, the parts that feel difficult and exhausting, and I’ll come back next year with refreshed ideas on how to keep bringing nature poetry into the lives of young people here in Detroit.
Poem Forest lives on through my work with the Kennedy Center as well, after our first successful beta testing year we have three locations around the country where classes wrote, learned, and planted their poetic visions. This coming year will be a wider reach for the pilot program on its way to becoming a national, open source curriculum. I’m devoted to this project, but it’s clear that it’s a long one and there’s no need to rush. I applied for the Kresge Fellowship here in Detroit but didn’t win. I was looking forward to that 40k prize and wished for it for many reasons, but mainly to support me as I nurture Poem Forest. The funds will come, the trees will grow, the poems will pour forth no matter what and I’m in it for the long haul.
I have room this summer for a few new editing clients. If you’re in need of creative consultation or a pair of well-trained eyes to look over your work, I’m here for you. I can only take on a few new folks for the season, so please reach out and we’ll see if it’s a good fit. Often, I work with people once and offer guidance on forward motion with a creative project. I love this work and am so happy you all continue to seek out advice and energy to support your artistic endeavors.
I’d also love for you to sign up for the paid subscription I offer, Personal Poetics, as I currently need some extra support in buying a hot water heater, a refrigerator, tile for the bathroom floor, and so on.
I know that life is a job, always lit by the need for prosperity, and overall I feel trusting that it’ll all work out as it needs to. I’ll leave you with this poem I wrote a few days ago. I think it sets the tone for where I’m at, not boohooing, but accepting the fact that truths always shift and new openings are infinite. Even in the face of brutal reality, I’m saying wow, wow, wow! To exist! Oh, yes! I hope you feel it, too.
Sending my love and infinite gratitude,
Jacqueline