All Write: Circles of Community Online II

Introduction

Over the past few months, we have entered a new realm of normal filled with many challenges. This blog post serves to honor those young writers who have risen to the challenge of staying healthy at home while also staying creative at home and inspiring at home—and, yes, courageous at home as they traveled through their imaginations, inventing new worlds and novel ideas about our world.

These young writers shared their work with one another, but they also shared their laughter, their smiles, their virtual backgrounds, and their hopes for the future. Their voices echoed across the Wi-Fi and broadband cables—and here is where the magic really happened. These young writers transformed the square of a screen into a circle of community. They now invite you into that circle to join in a celebration of all things.

The pieces below prove that despite storms rumbling heavy above us, there is a deep joy ringing underneath. Welcome to that joy.

Kate Kelly
Programs Manager
The Library Foundation

 

Ashes

The people asked for their fauna back
but it was too late.

The people asked for their stars and moon back
but it was too late.

The people asked for their mountains back
but it was too late.

Everything that they heard of in their histories
—small feathered animals chirping,
colossal forking structures with green needles jutting from their branches,
huge forms of rock that pierced the sky,
and glimmering bright points in the night—
are words and distant memories of smoke and dust.

A barren mother of ghosts.

Ari Firsching

 

My Tree

William's Tree

I am a beautiful tree. A good tree
Not a
GOOD
GOOD tree just a normal good tree

I seek low I see high to see high to
see the forests right behind
I am a beautiful tree.           Tree

I am smart I am braveTree
I am good
hearted
Good
Good
Hearted
I am a
beautiful
tree.

I am
loving,
good for
play
-ing. Not
like so
good but
good
Just good.
I am a beautiful tree.

I am a unique, beautiful, caring,
Friend, silly, fun tree.

William Kim

William Kim

 

Pandemic Pantoum

There are fewer cars on the road
I notice the beautiful flowers more
We ride our bikes more often
I notice more smells than before

I notice the beautiful flowers more
It’s getting hotter out
I notice more smells than before
I am getting more cuts and bruises

It’s getting hotter out
The sink is getting worn out because we are at home more now
I am getting more cuts and bruises
I notice less trash on the street

The sink is getting worn out because we are at home more now
We ride our bikes more often
I notice less trash on the street
There are fewer cars on the road

Stella Mendoza

 

The Invisible Thing That Connects Us
—a blind collaborative poem

And the birds barked and the dogs sang,
The hermit crabs shift shells behind my back, growing up so fast.
And then the typewriter spoke to me!
I would say “magnanimous” and you would say it too.
You could make this place beautiful.
It amazes me that people keep being born—
that we welcome and say goodbye so often.
I don’t understand…
A rose-studded rainfall of regret.
The zoom box is the techno proscenium; shared time but in virtual space—
An empty chest, filled with green leaves.
Welcome, catastrophists, anxious strivers, and know-it-alls.
And we knew, dancing starless and untethered like this,
the seaweed pulling at our wet legs.
But, of course, she drank the fetid brew.
Whose onion is this? My mistake, it looked familiar.
Imagine the germs hiding in the bowling ball,
Tell the myth I pivot and claim as my own.
The night hangs like a pregnant pause,
I wandered away for awhile.
Glowing red eyes stared through the window:
Promise.
When it’s time to meet the sky again, I promise to kiss the earth.
The fear of slipping like a door that closes but never locks.

The 2020 Badgerdog Summer Camp Teaching Artists

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