Julia Álvarez said: “El papel lo aguanta todo”
-paper holds everything, puts up with everything, contains everything-
this blog is an extension of the paper I write on
este blog es una extensión del papel sobre el cual escribo
Julia Álvarez said: “El papel lo aguanta todo”
-paper holds everything, puts up with everything, contains everything-
this blog is an extension of the paper I write on
este blog es una extensión del papel sobre el cual escribo
What do you say to yourself when you feel that fear is paralyzing you with lies? I asked for help this past summer on Twitter and created the images below with the very helpful messages I received.
I’ve shared these on Twitter and IG already but am putting them together here in hopes that others will find them helpful too.
Yamil
December 2019
VECES
poema original de Yamil Báez
hay veces que me pierdo
en las contradicciones
y en las coincidencias
a veces vivo lo que es el momento
porque el tiempo se fuga
¿no es así?
en un abrir y cerrar de los ojos
ya no estamos
así que
goza
¿no es así?
la vida es muy corta para….
pero piénsalo bien
si no lo pudiste hacer hoy
lo harás mañana
tranquila
y aquí estoy yo
descubriendo
que lo que no hago hoy
no
IM
POR
TA
nada
es así
lo que hice
ya está
me puedo despedir
tranquila porque
ya está
lo que está
y a veces
me quedo paralizada
pensando en el futuro
en el mañana
en los cinco minutos que están por llegar
en la tarde cuando
se ocultará el sol
y perderé esa conexión
con la única luz que
me hipnotiza
y me embruja los sentidos
para pensar
que sí hay esperanza
que sí hay verdades alentadoras
que sí hay un amor indefinible
que brota de un universo
sin nombre
sin principio
pero que termina
cuando yo termine
y a veces me siento
en un sofá
o una silla
y si estoy de suerte
en una mecedora
y pienso que la vida es mucho más simple
29 nov 2019
un reto poético JR
QUERER DE GENTE–(Yamil Báez)
Un día te excluyen y otro día te incluyen y luego te excluyen de nuevo
Un día todos te quieren, al otro día uno menos, luego, otra menos, después otro menos
Y un día, nadie te quiere,
Al siguiente día alguien te quiere
y te lo deja saber
Y quizás alguien te quiere pero no te lo dice
Y hay una persona que te dejó de querer y
no te lo dice
o sí.
Al siguiente día
te preguntas si tú te quieres,
porque
todos los días
te preguntas
si
tú
te
quieres
hoy.
9 nov 2019 Yamil Báez
My mind’s DJ plays poems- this is the one on replay this weekend.
I scoop up my sadness in my hands
I imagine that it’ll be like water,
Escape through the gaps between my fingers
Overflowing then dripping slow
Drop.
Drop.
Drop, drop,
ddddrrrrroooooppppphhuhh.
But contact with my skin
Makes it heavy
It gels
Changing colors even
Not as transparent as I thought
But now thick
And dark
And then it changes again
Seems it’s oily, greasy now
It slips and slides on my palms
But not wanting to jump off
just yet
Until its heaviness parts
My hands
The sadness drops with a thud
But it is not gone
My skin is now seeped in it.
There’s a shine that deceives
Because it is sticky
I know because I try to rub my hands
Clean of it
But that makes it worse.
Original poem by Yamil Báez July 2015
A mis bellos estudiantes que se sienten sobrecargados por el peso de la incertidumbre del futuro- ustedes son de las personas más fuertes que yo conozco.
Ustedes siguen estando presentes aun cuando no quieren estar, aun cuando otros no lo quieran.
Imagínense la persona más fuerte que conocen. ¿Sabían ustedes que ellos a veces se sienten débiles también? Sintiéndose tan débiles a veces que se caen de rodillas y quieren rendirse del todo, hasta descansar sus frentes en el suelo…
..y empaparlo de lágrimas!
Y se levantan.
a veces recostándose de otros,
se levantan de nuevo.
Como lo hacen ustedes. Como lo haces tú.
Como lo harán de nuevo.
To my beautiful students feeling heavy under the weight of uncertainty about the future- you are some of the strongest people I know.
You continue to show up even when you don’t want to, even when others don’t want you to.
Imagine the strongest person you know. Did you know that they feel weak sometimes too? Feeling so weak at times that they fall to their knees and sometimes give up all together, rest their foreheads on the ground…
…and soak it with tears!
Then they get up.
At times by leaning on others. They get back up.
Like you do.
Like you will.
This is a thank you note.
Thank you to friends, family, fam, and tribe *
that love me through my existence with depression
sadness is a constant companion
that at times leads me to withdrawal
Thank you for understanding
that I’m not withdrawing from you
I love you
I just don’t always love myself
the withdrawal is needed
so I can try to cultivate some love
from the weak seeds I struggle to plant
and that you too try to plant
ever
so
persistently
Knowing that self-love is just that—
a reflexive action
it can only be done by the subject unto itself
But some of y’all are stubborn though
and I’m grateful for that
So, thank you.
Sincerely,
me
*(now I know not to use this word in this context 2/2019)
So many of you want to do something to help with education in your communities.
Here are *some* simple ideas.
Note: These boil down to gifts of time and/or money. This is not meant to be a comprehensive list nor a complete how-to guide. This is to get started and move forward.
If you have any suggestions to add, feel free to do so in comments below. There are small ways to make the everyday experience of students and their school community more enjoyable in the face of very real obstacles and lack of resources. And, the more you become familiar with the everyday challenges of a school, the more you’ll be able to participate in larger scale advocacy.
And-thank you.
Yamil Báez
May 29, 2017
So, first my word processing program wants to grammar-check my use of “hated” in the title. It doesn’t like that it is capitalized. Well duh- I know it’s ugly, offensive to the senses, possibly bold, possibly extreme. I mean, hate is a really, really, really strong word, right? And then to have a capital “H”? Yeah. It’s oogly. Ok. I fixed it. I capitalized every word in the title. I guess you gotta do that in English. You don’t do that in Spanish by the way.
You know what I find really ugly though? hate itself
I mean, we have lots of suffering already and hate just makes it all worse.
I digressed a bit there. Avoiding the pain I feel reading these tweeted updates on a story from Portland, Oregon: headlines about a man harassing two young Muslim girls and then killing two men.
The details get clearer with a few more tweets and what I know at the time of this writing is this:
And now I find myself in a familiar yet extremely distressing place. I’m sick to my stomach thinking about these young ladies that were attacked. They are the same age of many of my students. I watch the video of one of the girls thanking the men that defended her and her friend. She’s not Muslim. I imagine my students reading about this on their various social media sites. This is fucking scary on so many levels.
I teach at a big urban high school- approximately 2500 students with a population of students that can best be described as wonderfully diverse. There are refugees and newcomers. There are students that can count generations of family living in the same town. There are students that wear hijabs. There are students that strongly support the 45th president. This latest nationally reported hate crime emboldens the persistent questions I carry with me as an educator:
How do I make my most hated, harassed, threatened students feel safe?
How do I help my students, all of them, not give in to hate?
How do I model courage, kindness and hope?
How do I do that AND teach them content?
How do I ALL this while being a target of hate as well?
I imagine my students have all sorts of questions come through their minds:
How can I avoid being targeted by hate?
Should I stop wearing __? Should I stop saying __? Should I stop talking to __?
Should I stop listening to __?
Can I get a ride to school instead of walking or taking the bus?
Would I intervene if I saw the same thing happening on the bus or at school?
I kinda agree with what the guy said but not what he did-what does that mean?
Can we just forget that this is happening?
It is Monday, May 29, Memorial Day, as I write this. Tomorrow I’ll be back in the classroom with the particular challenges that come during the last few weeks of school. We finish on June 26th. And I’d rather be worried only about keeping my students focused as they get anxious about final projects and exams. I can give you the long list of concerns we teachers have about our student’s learning. Trust me that it is already a long one. Instead I’m reminded that our schools can be spaces of pain if we are not deliberate about making them safe. I’m wondering how the leaders of my school’s district and my school feel about the recent events. I’m wondering how my colleagues are feeling. I wonder about how many of my students are afraid of being victims, witnesses or perpetrators of hate. My energy is tied up in the pain of it all. Hate is oppressive. The hater is very much at the mercy of the whims of hate. To be young and in the process of learning how to navigate strong feelings and forge one’s identity requires a community of loving, empathetic and compassionate adults. We want rising-adults that are trying to be all that because that is what they see. The line between love and hate can thin out at times. Our students need us when this is happening. They need to know that hate can be controlled and that love can be nurtured.
but wait, there’s more
I, the teacher in the classroom, many times alone with and caring for these young hearts, need to feel safe too. I too need to feel supported, seen and cared for. I need to know that hate is not tolerated in my school especially since it is the place I spend most of my time. I need that so that I can teach. So that students can see in me that we are all being cared for. I need to know that we see our Muslim students and colleagues with an appreciation for their humanity, our refugee students and colleagues as courageous and our immigrant students and colleagues brave. I need to know that we love our students and staff of color because we believe Black lives matter. If we are not communicating a sense of safety and care in our schools, we are risking the progression of hate and fear that will inevitably spill out into the world.
Teaching students that are hated and hating sometimes feels surreal to me. Of course, I’d rather be aware than not. What is disappointing however is that this reality hasn’t resulted in the permeation of love-full pedagogy and structures in our schools. At least not from where I have to stand every day.
Depresssion is tiring af.
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