I wrote this poem on September 8, 2015, six days after Aylan Kurdi died during his family’s flight across the Aegean Sea, and photos of his body opened the world’s eyes, sparking ‘this suffering must stop’ statements:
What of mournings
i
Do you think he was afraid?
Or maybe…
These are snippets of stories of some very small few of the humans who seek refuge in this world, whose paths I briefly walked alongside and whose lives I, alongside and within the incredible community of humans volunteering, did my best to care for while on Lesvos, and whose wellbeing is bound to myContinueContinue reading “who seek refuge”
I’ve been volunteering on the Greek Island of Lesvos for seven days now, with four remaining before I return to the United States on December 21. What follows are snapshots of my time here, as I’ve worked in various refugee camps and with Lighthouse, an organization on the island’s north coast which receives boats asContinueContinue reading “One Week on Lesvos: Snapshots”
I wrote a poem last trimester and in it used the phrase “a family form of mine” to describe someone. I received the reviewed poem back from my professor and the phrase was circled, with an arrow pointing to a question written in the margin: what do you mean by this? I write of familyContinueContinue reading “family forms”
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j4GTVYHOM_M I found this song a few days ago and have been listening to it on repeat for a number of reasons/friends, but today, I woke up, listened to the song, and thought of you, Maggie. “I know you are my friend and if I’d never met you I would be different” These words areContinueContinue reading “if i’d never met you”
Sometimes I have low moments. Sometimes I get overwhelmed. Sometimes I get so far into my headspace I can’t figure out how to get back to here. Sometimes I get so anxious trying to figure life out that I become paralyzed from living it. Sometimes I look at the calendar and see the many datesContinueContinue reading “a day to be lived”
Walking home, it’s sunset. I meander down the road in the cool breeze, hear enlivened Wolof all around me, greet familiar neighbors. When I reach Papa he happily greets me, makes a joke about my favorite song, tells me so like family he’s going to the gym and will see me later. I walk towardContinueContinue reading “coming home”
You never had to wonder what Jake was thinking; he willingly and passionately shared his musings, beliefs, and reflections with any whose path crossed with his. You never had to wonder if Jake was listening; he was genuinely interested in what others had to say and approached conversations with the greatest sincerity. He approached lifeContinueContinue reading “thanking jake”
“Being able to hold a conversation is one of the greatest talents a person can possess,” my Grandpa told me. I have thought about those words, and Grandpa, every day that I have been in Senegal. Until he was put in hospice care in March of 2012, my Grandpa was just my Grandpa. He livedContinueContinue reading “holding conversation”
We sat in the closed room, each in our own space that at times coincided with the space of others, and we cried and we laughed and we took deep breaths. We sat on the rock, bracing ourselves individually and as one clump as the waves crashed down upon us, and we cried and weContinueContinue reading “we cried and we laughed and we took deep breaths”
Written 24 September 2013: Today was a hard day for Sarr family here in Sénégal. During the summer of 2011 my Kenyan sister Winnie lived with my family in the US. Toward the end of her stay, the D-H family had a hard day. And I remember so clearly her telling me that she wasContinueContinue reading “being here through it”
A year ago today the world lost Maggie Harry. Maggie and I trained at the same dance studio, our paths crossing in classes, rehearsals, shows, and the often-hilarious, always-true conversation had over tying up pointe shoes and nursing sore feet. Maggie was younger than I and we often hung around different groups of people, butContinueContinue reading “maggie”
When I think of success stories of GET UP (Girls Empowerment Team of Umoja Project), I think of Hellen and Lucy. When Mariah and I were planning for our summer working with Umoja Project’s GET UP programs, we knew that we wanted to work with post-secondary Umoja Project girl students. In part, this was becauseContinueContinue reading “Hellen and Lucy”
callie daniels-howell 