A few thoughts on process...

Ohio has always been my home. I've done a fair amount of travel, but I've never lived outside of northeast Ohio. This place is home. It's where the people and things I know and love exist. It is comfort. Have I always loved Ohio? Love for a place is a strange idea. I love the people. I love the communities that have been built here. I love my family. I love my friends. I love my house. But do I love Ohio? I don't know if that's something I would have said a year ago.

In 2023, I had the chance to hear Adrian Matejka on book tour, and he said that when he's writing a poem, something needs to surprise him. It was something that I already knew in my bones, but I had never verbalized it or thought about it in that exact way, in those exact words. When I sit down knowing exactly where the poem is going and what it's going to say, it might end up being an okay poem, but it is never a good poem. The good poems, the best poems, start with me expecting it to take one route, and then the poem taking me on a completely different journey. Poets know that the best poems are written when the poem, not the poet, is in control.

So when Dee Fairweather reached out to Mary Defer and me about her idea for Ohio Reclaimed, I immediately said yes, but I didn't know what about Ohio could still surprise me. I expected to do a lot of research, learn a lot of history about these sites, but I wasn't sure that I would be able to connect on a more creative level with the subject matter.

While discussing how to approach the project, we started planning trips to visit the sites that would be the focus of the project. Seeing something in person gives details that I wouldn't be able to scoop up from doing some research or looking at old photos, and again, I expected to have to rely heavily on those details to make the poems good enough. I didn't think I'd find anything surprising.

Then we made our first site visits, and everything changed for me.

Yes, I met history. Yes, I met interesting facts.

But almost immediately, I met something surprising: hope.

And that was something I could wrap a poem around. Not just one, but a dozen of them.

Those of us who live in Ohio know that we're blessed with our county, state, and national parks. Our parks are something I know I've taken for granted, but we have so many wonderful wild or semi-wild spaces. But despite spending a decent amount of time in and around them for my entire life (see: Ohio has always been my home), I never looked at them from this angle before--an angle from which I saw hope.

A number of the places we visited had been some kind of industrial operation, places that, within living memory, had been devoid of trees or any other green growth, but now sat in the middle of a reforested, thriving area. Without, and sometimes with, the help of people, the earth can recover, life can recover. The work of Ohio Reclaimed is this beautiful illustration of the way that damage, mistakes, harm that we inflict, whether intentionally or not, can be healed, can be recovered.

It renewed my sense of wonder in a place I thought I knew so well. It made me fall in love with Ohio. The voice in most of the poems from Ohio Reclaimed is named as Nature, but the more I think about it, I wonder if maybe it isn't Ohio herself, speaking through these poems, talking to us, showing us our faults, correcting, fixing, healing.

I'm going to be honest: these last few weeks have not been an easy time to live in Ohio. I've felt so much disappointment, disillusionment, and hurt over certain outcomes. In the aftermath, I've seen some people saying very seriously that they're going to leave the state, move somewhere they feel safer, encouraging others not to come here, not to visit, not to vacation or spend money here.

I won't be leaving. This is my home, and always has been, and it feels that way just as much now as it has ever been. Regardless of what the numbers look like on paper, there is so much about Ohio to be loved. Despite things that go wrong, despite the people in the statehouse making decisions I wish they wouldn't make, Ohio is still my home. And I love it. This place with so many of the people I love, this place that has so much promise, this place that deliberately, stubbornly heals itself over and over. This place that rather than destroy us, is willing to give us another chance to do the right thing. Another chance, and another chance, and another chance. She's the parent who won't give up on us.

I'm not saying there's no work involved. We don't get to sit back and let Ohio just fix everything on her own. It took concerted effort to reforest these areas, to learn what once was and put it back to rights in a thoughtful and true way. But it can be done. All is not lost. It never is. There is hope. And it starts with love.

Peace.
T


 "Ohio Reclaimed: What Once Was" is still on view at Summit Artspace (140 E Market St, Akron, OH) through December 14th! See the art, read and listen to the poems. Chapbooks of the poems in the show are EXCLUSIVELY available for purchase only at Summit Artspace through the run of the show. Pick up your copy while you're there.

Five things you can do besides wear a bracelet

If wearing a blue bracelet makes you feel better right now, ok, I guess. But the truth is that the Black, brown, and LGBTQ+ folks in your life already knew whether or not you were a safe person. The bracelet is really just for you.

But if you actually ARE in the place where you are ready to do something, here's a list of low-commitment actions you can take. Personally, I'm not there yet. I know I move slowly and need to get myself in a good place from which I can start doing the work. If you needed ideas, but, like me, need some time, bookmark this and come back to it when you're ready.

1. Support good and local (when possible) journalism.

As confidence in our institutions erodes, journalism that is actual journalism--not entertainment disguised as news, not propaganda--is becoming an endangered species.

If you have a hometown paper you trust and like, subscribe. If not, look into publicly funded news organizations. Look into your local PBS and NPR stations. For Northeast Ohio, Signal Akron and Signal Cleveland have also been doing really good work in online print journalism.

If you're not able to support these organizations at this time with donations or by becoming a member, then start using them as your news sources.

Links:

Ideastream Public Media (NEO PBS and NPR)

Signal Cleveland 

Signal Akron 

 

2. Donate to local organizations that support people who will be targeted over the next 4 years.

If you have disposable income right now and your goal is supporting Black people, brown people, LGBTQ+ people, and immigrants, there are organizations near you doing this already. Set up a donation with them--make it monthly so it will continue even after this initial rage wears off and we fade into waves of complacence and frustration and you won't need to remember to do it.

A few links to orgs in my area:

International Institute of Akron --helps refugees and immigrants achieve an empowered life with dignity, connection, and belonging.

ASIA (Asian Services in Action)--the largest health and human services agency serving the AAPI community of Northeast Ohio.

Freedom Bloc --On a mission to build black leadership and political infrastructure in Black communities through civic education and engagement, leadership development and economic reinvestment.

Plexus --Plexus LGBT + Allied Chamber of Commerce

Big Love Network --Big Love is Akron’s local environmental health equity organization.  We are an evolving network facilitating neighbor-led/creative placemaking, sustainability, and health equity efforts throughout Akron as a means for social change.

 

3. Support your local arts, artists, and small local businesses.

The arts build healthy communities, and believe it or not, healthy economies! It's a crucial part of your local social and yes, financial, infrastructure. If you can't support a local org with money right now, support them by patronizing them with your presence--many have free or very low cost admission. I'm listing local organizations here, but I promise, wherever you are, there is a small gallery, venue, or museum you can support. Buy holiday gifts from local artists, shop Small Business Saturday events and art and craft fairs. Even if you don't buy anything, collect business cards from your favorites so you remember to default to them when buying gifts rather than shopping through big tech websites.

Links to some Akron-local orgs you can support with your funds and/or presence:

Summit Artspace --quickly becoming my favorite source and resource for the arts in Akron. They support not only artists, but the community. 

The Nightlight --An exceptional arthouse cinema experience—for everyone.

Akron Soul Train --Akron Soul Train is an artist residency program connecting and empowering the community and artists by granting residencies that provide resources for all creative disciplines to foster a more vibrant downtown Akron.

CATAC --seeks to provide a home base to nurture emerging local artists and those of international reputation creating new work and experimenting with new forms of expression.

Akron Bazaar and Cleveland Bazaar --northeast Ohio’s longest-running indie craft show, with over eighteen years of fantastic events on our track record since 2004.

The Rialto Theatre --Akron’s premier live music venue

There are literally dozens more just in Akron and the surrounding areas...

4. Donate or volunteer at your local foodbank.

Foodbanks are overwhelmingly cited as the organizations that make donations go further than humanly possible. Ok, maybe that's a slight exaggeration, but these are the only organizations that can find a way to turn $1 into three free meals for those in need. And regardless of whether the economy is up or down, regardless of your neighborhood, food insecurity is real, and I promise you, worse than you could imagine. My day-job hosts food bank pickups once a month, and folks are lined up in their cars for a mile, waiting for literally hours to get a couple bags of groceries. These orgs will always need volunteers and money. Always.

Akron-Canton Regional Foodbank

Greater Cleveland Foodbank 

 

5. Support your local public library.

Wherever you are, your library will accept donations. But more importantly, you support them by your presence. Every year they report their attendance numbers statewide and nationally to show that they are a critical resource in the community.

And they are.

When free and open access to information is eroded, everyone suffers. But your local library isn't only about books and movies and music. It absolutely is, but it's infinitely more.

As access to public resources continues to erode, the responsibility for filling the gaps left by failing and dismantled social safety nets is filled, intentionally or not, by the libraries.

Just some of the things that you may not immediately associate with what libraries do:

• Maker spaces, with 3D printers, laser cutters, Cricut machines, embroidery and quilting machines, CNC cutters, free access to Adobe suite software, vinyl printers, and so much more that I'm not even remotely tech savvy enough to understand but maybe you are
• Free meals for kids, and food pantry pick ups
• Assistance with applying for various social services
• Free computer and internet access
• Free Microsoft Certification classes
• Free career assistance
  

And--your libraries are under attack right now, and over the coming years it is only expected to get worse.

As book and material challenges and bans become more frequent and libraries are placed in the crosshairs for doing nothing more than providing information to anyone who wants it, they need your support. Here in Ohio, the statehouse attempted but failed (so far) at defunding public libraries that provide materials they want to censor. You can read about it here.

So what can you do? Show up. Vote for every library levy on your ballot as they show up in the coming years. If you haven't visited your library in a minute, step through those doors. Get a card. Ask for a list of programs and register and attend an author talk, writing workshop, a cooking class, a storytime with your kids, a program to learn how to use all those fancy maker machines I listed above. Make the library a weekly visit.

Beyond that, libraries need you to call your Ohio state representatives and Ohio senators. Make it a weekly call--schedule five minutes a week and put a reminder in your phone. In Ohio, we are blessed with something called the Public Library Fund, which uses a percentage of statewide tax revenue to fund public libraries across Ohio. It's one of the reasons the libraries in Ohio surpass some of those in even the biggest cities in the nation. Yes, those.

So here's a quick script to use when you call if you need help:

"Hi, my name is [your name] and I am a constituent at [your address]. I'm calling because I want to support my public libraries across Ohio, and I am asking you to keep the PLF at current levels of funding. I am also asking you to support the freedom of information by preventing any efforts to tie those library funds to the materials our libraries offer." (You can add a thank you at the end if you want. Depending on whether or not you like your rep, maybe you don't want.)

That's it. You'll probably reach voicemail without even talking to a real person.

Here's how to find your Ohio reps:

Ohio House of Representatives

Ohio Senate

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This list is NOT even close to all-inclusive. And this list is largely hyper local. So if you know of other orgs, share them with your friends who are asking, "What do we do now?" There is always something to do. No one person needs to do it all. But everyone can do one thing. When we're ready.

Frodo: I wish the Ring had never come to me. I wish none of this had happened.

Gandalf: So do all who live to see such times; but that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us. There are other forces at work in this world, Frodo, besides the will of evil. Bilbo was meant to find the Ring. In which case, you were also meant to have it. And that is an encouraging thought.

I believe that we were meant to be in this time and were given the gifts to do what is needed in the world right now.

Life. Love. Light.
T

Baseball, but really, time and nostalgia, and really, baseball

Time does strange somersaults when I start thinking about math and dates. For example, there's an age gap between my husband and me. Ninety-nine percent of the time, it doesn't feel like there's any time between us at all. But it's a wide enough gap that when we start talking about, say, graduation years or how old we were during certain historical events, it brings that time into sharp relief.

My husband and I are both baseball fans--Steve moreso than I am, but as with so many pop culture things that stick with a person from youth, he connected with one World Series team in particular at an important time in his life. When he talks about those players and that team, he is sharing with me the histories and traditions of his people. It's beautiful and emotional because he has that connection with those memories.

And while Steve was still very much a Cleveland baseball fan during the mid-nineties, in the hey-day of Cleveland ball, those '95-'97 teams were the ones that I connected with (even though, sadly, they never actually won a World Series at the time). I remember the first time I shocked him with a baseball nugget of trivia when I told him that I would always believe there's an alternate universe somewhere that the strike-shortened season of 1994 actually ended with Cleveland winning the World Series. That was my team--Kenny Lofton, Albert Belle, Carlos "by land, by sea" Ba-er-ga!

But what brought those '90s baseball seasons into even sharper relief was my dad showing me how momentous those times were.

My dad wasn't born in the US, but as a kid growing up here, he started following Cleveland baseball "about '63 or '64". In over 30 years of being a fan, he'd barely seen a team with a winning record, much less a playoff contender. When my brother and I were small, my parents would pack us up in the car with a cooler filled with hotdogs, and we would have a picnic at old Municipal Stadium with 50 other folks spread out over 80,000 seats, and maybe somewhere in there a ballgame would break out. People would flip the wooden seats in the cavernous upper deck to spell out words like "Go Tribe". Our family and any friends with us would take up a whole row or two just for ourselves, because no one else was sitting nearby. When John Adams beat the drum, it ECHOED, and everyone would grab the seat of the nearest empty chair and slam it up and down with the drumming.

And maaaaan, giveaways back then. Not these bobbleheads that sorta-maybe look like the player if you squint enough. We went to one afternoon game where they gave away bats--real, regulation, full-sized, Louisville Slugger, wooden baseball bats. They were painted bright red, and had the team logo and sponsorships painted on them in white, and you can bet we played with them in the backyard for years. I think my dad still may have them in the garage somewhere, relics of the before-times, when winning baseball in Cleveland was still a dream.

In '95, the first time the team made it to the playoffs in a generation, my dad saved the newspapers, recorded the clinch celebrations on VHS, bought "Central Division Champion" t-shirts and treated them like Sunday best. It wasn't just a winning team. It was the first winning team in a generation.

The World Series in '95 was tough. The World Series in '97 was tougher. And since then, we've had a number of winning, even good, almost magical teams. '07 nearly broke my dad, when Cleveland lost to the Red Sox and he swore, "I'm never watching sports again!" Of course, he did.

Then we had 2016 and the rain delay game seven heartbreak. Then 2017 and The Streak, but it wasn't enough to get us through.

Now it's October 2024, and I'm getting ready to watch (or more likely not watch) a World Series that remained out of reach from the Guardians again. When I do that somersault math, I realize that I'm the same age my dad was for those mid-nineties teams. I feel a tiny bit of that cynicism creeping in, the cynicism where my dad seems to be permanently planted now whenever we talk baseball. But despite all his lifetime of watching losing teams, or watching winning teams that couldn't quite win that last game, I can still hear the hope there. It's a hope that didn't want to fully admit that all of us thought this was the year we could win the big trophy, a hope that good things can still happen, and that we'll get to see them happen soon.

Maybe I'm only talking about baseball now. Maybe I'm not. Maybe I want to see the Guardians win for me, but maybe I also want them to win, just a little bit more, for my dad. Maybe I want us all to believe that there's still hope, there's always hope. Not just for baseball.

A word on pronouns

 First, I use them. You use them. We all use them.

What people really mean when they say they won't use "pronouns" is that they refuse to self-identify their pronouns.

But pronoun identification is not a burden, or something that will only serve one small segment of the population. It's a curb cut.

Curb cuts are the small ramps cut into sidewalks at crosswalks. They were mandated by law through the ADA to assist those with physical disabilities and mobility difficulties. Yes, they help people who use wheelchairs, walkers, or other mobility assistance. But curb cuts also help people pushing strollers, pulling wagons, making deliveries, pulling wheeled luggage, riding scooters, etc. Anyone who's had to push, pull, or ride something across the street from sidewalk to sidewalk has had their life made easier by a curb cut. (If you're interested in this idea, check out the work of Angela Glover Blackwell who has written more on the Curb Cut Effect.)

Regularly self-identifying pronouns is also a curb cut. Because yes, it will help those in the LGBTQ+ community. 

But do you know who else will benefit from pronoun identification? People named "Alex." Or "Jamie." Or "Adrian." Or those with any other first names that society considers to be gender neutral. 

Anyone with a name that does not have gender connotation commonly recognized by mainstream American society will be helped. This includes people of color, immigrants, people with very modern names, people with very traditional names, and many people I've neglected to mention here (because I know I have my own gaps).

I'll give you one big example of how pronoun identification would help me in my own day job. Part of my job involves calling or sending a letter to people who have submitted an application for a service. If the person's first name is one that I'm not familiar with as gendered, I have occasionally found myself embarrassed by misgendering, or awkwardly using "they" to avoid misgendering, the person I am trying to reach. Selfishly, I want to be saved from embarrassment. But also, I want to save the person I'm addressing the embarrassment and awkwardness of being misgendered--because that also brings an entire additional dynamic to the conversation. They are now in the uncomfortable position of needing to decide whether or not they correct me, and regardless of their choice, an additional level of discomfort been added to the interaction.

If everyone used pronoun identification reflexively, it would smooth those interactions. Rote business interactions would continue to be just that: rote. If I have to call my bank or the doctor's office or whatever it happens to be, I want it to be as quick and easy as possible and limited to the scope of the reason I called. I don't need additional levels of discomfort and frustration built into those interactions--and neither does anyone else.

So let's make everyday interactions easier, smoother, and more comfortable for everyone--regardless of how they identify themselves. It's such a small and simple thing to make one tiny part of someone's day a little easier.