The rabbits come out to frolic at 6, not quite sundown. I noticed this one evening when I parked my car on the driveway and chanced to look into our small bowl of a garden--mostly a scoop of lawn surrounded by evergreen bushes and three small hemlocks. There they were, five or six plump grey rabbits hopping about—just like in a children’s story book.
Yesterday at 11 am New York time I pinged my new friend who’s stuck in Bangkok until flights resume to get her home safely. I’d met Carmen in a poetry class in New York a few months ago. She has an illustrious history with the Nuyorican Poets Café of East New York and writes and performs outrageous Spanglish poems. My ping on WhatsApp was to ask if she’d teach me a few tricks about performance. “¿Quieres hacerlo ahora?” she asked. Now?
In Thailand, it was 11 pm. We texted, sent recorded messages, and finally spoke live where I practiced my poem and she responded with, “make love to each word.” At inconceivable distances of time and space, this exchange felt like magic. But the bigger magic was that two almost strangers had found new ways to ask for help and give help.
My son, a high school principal, tells me that students are coming through with their work. He worries that long-distance learning is not as deep, but mostly he’s concerned with students’ emotional health. Teenagers’ developing brains incline towards taking risks, and there are fewer healthy risks they can take—trying out for a play, roller blading, running for office at school—so it’s essential especially now to keep kids engaged and joyful. The school is requiring students to take pictures of themselves doing exercise out of doors (to the degree that their families let them) and learning skills from a parent—cooking, repairing something, discovering their parents’ talents. Teachers are calling each student several times a week. Many are home alone because parents have service and delivery jobs and trying to make ends meet. The school is assigning group projects where for example a pair of students tour a gallery or science museum via screen shares on Zoom and report on their project’s findings. The school continues to hold a once a week assembly with videos created by the staff and students. They are working on a Rhode Island accent challenge right now. All of this feels hopeful. We need sunshine, new learning, intimacy, and community.
You may remember Teresa and Orlando, two musicians in Northern California who I interviewed two years ago as part of my Soy/Somos series. When I met Teresa and Orlando I was dazzled by their commitment to their music, to students, and to the plight of young Hispanics. I spoke with Teresa recently, and like so many artists, they’ve experienced disappointments as concerts where they would perform were cancelled, even into the summer. But there have also been triumphs. Their music students are advancing faster because, not meeting in a live class, they are taping their practices and listening to their own sounds, hearing in a new way.
Neighbors here are helping one another in small ways--dropping off a flat of pansies or a bottle of Clorox, or shopping for someone’s groceries. We know this kindness is happening in other places too.
We are finding moments of grace. Let’s nurture something new.
Why not leave ourselves open in case some magic happens?
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What are Orlando and Teresa doing now? I will bring this story to you in a few weeks. Here’s the original interview: Flute, Guitar, Voice—Music Close to the Heart that appeared in HuffPost.
This coming Tuesday:
I was invited to participate in a mini festival of TINTED TALES which will live stream on UTube on Monday, April 27 and Tuesday the 28th. Tint Journal publishes stories and poems in English by writers whose native language is not English. They published an essay of mine months ago and invited me to participate in this event. I’ll be reading a 6-minute scene from my memoir and am scheduled for Tuesday with 6 other writers (from all over the world). I am the last reader. On Tuesday the event starts at NOON, Eastern daylight savings time-- my time here in New York. It will run from noon through about 1:30 p.m. Here’s link to the live stream on Tube. Hope you can make it!
Have you done something new and surprising during the pause?