Last Lecture

Unlike many of my colleagues who could have the background which led straight from high school, to college, graduate classes, into their careers, I had to be like Doctor Who and go the long way around. Yes, there are a few like me who had to put their lives on hold or didn't even know if life went past a fast-food counter, but I had to make my own way, to fight again for what I found my passion to be. I read articles about how this isolation in the midst of COVID-19 is different than what one experienced at the McDowell Colony in their early thirties or on some writers retreat. EEKS. My time at home will not have space for writing or for solitude. Five boys keep us busier than ever. But this is a wonderful life. I know the privilege I have needs to fight for my students who were like me--working full time jobs, maybe in an abusive relationship, maybe in a life they are doing their best to change. I am your trickster imposter. If it looks like I am not intelligent, or I don't voice things in an academic way, or whatever you wish to judge me on, guess again. I listen to the emotional intelligent sacredness of that force against the Patriarchy in the Anthropocene. I also learn to choose my words. I'm a poet, after all.