a good reason to cry

Grief has a calendar. People have been telling me that it'll take a year at a minimum. And that other things like crying daily will change. I did not believe this to be possible, but it happened--I no longer cry every day. Even my weird nausea has mostly abated without medical assistance. I'm now in a new phase where it is "How have you been?" from someone I haven't seen in a while that makes me cry--because the last time I saw them, things were likely very different.

But this past week, I had a very good reason to cry. A non-binary elementary school music teacher was recently hired in the small rural school district to the north of us. Things were going well until there was the usual hate and outrage about kids needing to learn "non traditional pronouns" etc. At the public hearing, as a student relayed it, all this was shared in detail by two very vocal people. And then... over 70 teachers, students, parents, members of the community spoke up in support of the teacher. The school supervisor had always been supportive, but the Board could see in real time how much the community did not want to give in to hate. Here's something of a live report. I'm glad to have a "good" reason to cry.

Pic: Another amaryllis blooming: this is one I bought myself a couple of years ago from the $3 discount bin.

the three lessons

while I make myself legible to the world

my body, who has only one owner 

is learning to rebel 

someone holds the book, another gets to ask 

the question and I learn to answer 

without making things up

I am not a child, haven't been one for years

you teach me my past tense, I learn how

to bear being human 

________________________

Pic: Today's sunset along the Red Cedar. Late afternoon walk with Big A. 

public sightings

1) At the MFA student reading yesterday, I was reminded of the many things that are right in the world. Young people are creating poems and stories and journals to host other people's poems and stories and brave voices are finding themselves and amplifying other's voices (one poet read Renee Good's poem). I especially loved seeing old student CW's new work. 

2) JN took me to a drag show on Wednesday (I blew off grief group to go), and I met my first Drag King, Prince Marsallis. I love Prince, so the name in itself was a delight.

3) FYI, If I was out in public and you yelled out “pedophile protector” I would not think you were talking to me because I’m not a pedophile protector. I've decided that I'm going to use this to introduce interpellation in the Critical Theory class.

4) Aw! Someone tipped me off that on a new webpage titled "Best Decision Ever" that asks students why they love the college, a student had named me, saying,  "I’ve never met someone so passionate and caring for students."(I love my students and I'm glad they can tell.)

Pic: From the Jim Daniels reading last week. He's an alum of the college, taught here (before my time), gave the commencement speech at At's graduation, and teaches in the MFA program, but yesterday was the first time I was actually introduced to him. He then proceeded to talk my ear off (I didn't mind at all).

making my own sunshine

Wow the first weeks of 2026... I saw a meme where someone said they didn't like the "trial run" of 2026 and wanted a "refund." I concur. 

I expected a magical reset, but have found myself absolutely scuttled by... sadness? reality? the news? I don't even know anymore. But I miss my daily writing practice. If I'm going to be sad every day, could I at least not suffer from sameness?

Yesterday was Pongal, my favorite reset to the new year, but it was so grey and dreary, there wasn't even a glimpse of the sun. I guess I'll have to make my own sunshine this year. 

But here's last year's picture of a dancing Huck and a sonnet, plus the prep and lead up and the Pongal before that.  

Pic: Amaryllis (a gift from O.M.) blooming profusely and boldly like orbs in their own solar system.

still on this

I am so sad the last words she may have heard as she died were "Fuckin' Bitch." I wonder how many women have heard those very words because someone felt enraged that their perceived power wasn't being obeyed and deferred to.

Pic: Lansing protest in honor of Renee Nicole Good. 

Her name was Good

Today was a day... especially for checking up on my Minneapolis people. It has been so heavy lately. There was the middle-of-the night shooting of Rep. Hortman, her spouse, and Gilbert and then the daytime Annunciation school shooting. This morning on a residential street, ICE randomly shot 37-year-old Renee Nicole Good in the head and did not allow her any medical assistance (they threatened the physician who offered to provide medical assistance with a gun); she died. What are you supposed to do when masked goons with no ID surround your car? If they're shooting white people now, the fascism has really escalated. 

She was a human being. She was there as an observer. She was innocent (if that matters). She was a citizen (if that matters). She was a parent. Her six-year-old's father died in 2023, so this child is truly orphaned. 

Renee Nicole (Macklin) Good was a poet. She won a prize for this poem. 

endings

1) Jeanie said something in the comments last week that I haven't been able to stop thinking about. She noted that 2025 had been a year of leaving for me. My mom died, Nu went away to college, and At moved to Chicago. Not all of it is as sad as the first thing on the list--I'm happy for Nu and At; this is the right thing for them. (And it helps that Big A and I are having a wonderful time by ourselves.) The way Jeanie framed this actually helped me, because after At's ex and my mom died within months of each other, I kept thinking some third calamity would befall us. Now here's a list of three, and I feel like I can exhale. 

2) It has been four months. On the family WhatsApp chat, which we'd continued to use since the avatar was a group photo with my mom, I guess the system has noticed there haven't been any messages from my mom in a while, so it posted that she had "left the conversation." My sister and I were very rattled by this. I keep sneaking looks at that screen and it's a gut punch every time. 

3) Engie marveled yesterday that we start school so early. Yes, but I take heart in knowing that in 15 weeks, this semester will end and bring me face-to-face with summer break.* I feel-hope-trust that sunshine will heal me.

* I usually end this sentence with "bitches!" in my head.

Pic: Grey, sleeting, and foggy--a terrible trifecta all day. (Not a B&W photo.)