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text:
Liz Ahl
Books by Liz
Upcoming Readings
About Writing, Poetry, rumination
Grinding Out Poem Drafts
January 1, 2021 January 1, 2021 lizahl
A wordcloud (made with Wordle) of my most commonly used words
in my poem drafts of this most recent Grind month.
In December 2014, six years ago, an old friend, also a writer, invited me to participate in a writing accountability group/experience called "the Grind." Well, actually, he had invited me months before, invited me more than once, but I resisted — it was a month-long commitment to draft and share a new poem every day, via email, with a confidential group of readers, most of whom I would not know. No feedback, just daily accountability and practice. I don't remember what finally enabled/forced me to say "yes" for that first December. This year, signing up for my first Grind in two years, it was a long dry spell that finally nudged me into making the commitment, the longest & driest I can remember, not only a not-writing but some kind of not-wanting-to-write, I think.
I just looked back through my emails to examine the archive of my poem drafts from that first experience. I see that I was assigned to a group with a poet whose amazing book (not published yet in 2014) I read and was blown away by in 2020. When I look at the list of participants in my first "welcome to this month's Grind" email, I see a few familiar names of writer friends of mine who'd been participating already — poets and prose writers.
In December 2014, there were 9 groups (poem-focused groups and "manic mixture" to accommodate genre variations) with 63 participants signed up. This December: 174 signed up in 25 groups including new and revised poetry, new and revised prose, and mixed-genre). Some of the same names from 2014. When I look at the poems I drafted that first time — all new ones — I see that four of them have since been published, in a chapbook and then a full-length collection of poetry, my first. Another poem from that month was revised into the title poem of a forthcoming chapbook (hopefully out in 2021). Another poem from that month was published in an anthology in 2020, and I actually revisited/revised one of those 2014 poem drafts this month in my current Grind (I was in one of the "new and revised" poems groups, so revision was allowed!). I suppose I could look through all my monthly Grinds — I think I've done something like eighteen months total over six years — and inventory those "success stories," poems that found a life outside the Grind. But of course the "success" of the Grind is daily, monthly, and mostly private. The success of the Grind is to show up with your poem, and to be there so others can show up with their poems. (or prose or whatever).
I always complain my way through the Grind. I kind of hate it. Hate having to write a new poem draft every day (I have done almost exclusively "New Poetry" during my time on the Grind), having to send it to people whose drafts always seem so much more finished and interesting than mine. Once I was randomly placed into a group with a VERY WELL-KNOWN writer whose work I have long admired, and with whom I would NOT have been inclined to share my shitty poem drafts (or even, frankly, poems I thought were decent) — it was disconcerting at first, but then just….lovely. Not having to give feedback — indeed, feedback of any kind is not only not required, it's sort of frowned-upon — turns out to be an important element of doing a Grind.
On very rare occasions there have been folks who (habitually, repeatedly) did not show up daily, and that not showing up sometimes added (disproportionately, for sure) to my Grind grumpiness. You signed up, (I shouted to the empty room) voluntarily, to do ONE THING — to be accountable, alongside others, in this one daily thing — if you can't do it — that's OKAY! Just don't sign up! God, who would even WANT to do this? My anger was mostly blooming and booming from insecurity about the roughness of my own drafts, and was (I cannot emphasize enough) DISPROPORTIONATE to the actual "offenses," and probably not useful in any way. And for the most part, I have found that those who sign up come through on that commitment, and I am grateful for it, because it is HARD.
Why did I even sign up to do it? Different reasons or combinations of reasons each time, I think. Different contexts, imperatives. Grind founder (The Grindfather?) Ross White articulates so well the "whys" of the Grind in a two-part post (here and here). So many of the reasons he describes resonate with me – again, maybe different ones at different times over the last few years.
I thought briefly about signing up to do January as well, but I didn't, for a number of reasons. I think I will, without benefit of the Grind's specific pressure, try to do some revision of a few of these drafts in January. I've got a bunch of work stuff looming – specific tasks but also general conditions – that occupies so much of my head and heart recently. I will have to get back to it in January. And I am still not feeling the impulses to write poems that I have historically felt, that I have relied upon, that have been clear and strong enough to see me through other, different, shorter stretches of not writing, or writing struggle.
My December 2020 Grind poem titles are: My Love & Other Things, Pandemic Garden, Strangers, People You May Know, Fathom/Father, Prepared, The Book, Arecibo, 2020, Endearments, Mosh, Wind in Trees, Why I Woke at 3AM, My Mother Doesn't Miss The Christmas Tree, Binding, Accumulations, Monhegan (revision), The College Bar, Ghazal to Remind the Rain, Dimensions, Conjunction Weather, Conjunctions, 2020, Walk of Shame, Salt, Not Even Now, We Learned, We Learned (revision), Certain Premises, Here, A Year in the Woods Behind the House, Tired, Therapy
I did a revision of "Conjunctions, 2020" and on a lark sent it to Transitions: Poems in the Afterglow, part of an ongoing project of Indolent Books, and they selected and posted it, like, the next day. That was a speedy turnaround. And a little queasy-feeling in the speed of it, from my end. Most of the rest of these drafts will never see the light of day beyond the Grind, and that's okay – that's as it has been. But some of them may make it out into the world a bit – that's also as it has been.
In any case, as grumpy and whiny as I can be in the middle of it, I am grateful to my friend for inviting me to participate in the Grind, grateful to those many writers who showed up for themselves & each other, and grateful to Grindfather (surely I am not the first one to use this phrase??) Ross White for making so much so possible through his community-minded generosity.
October 30, 2020 Selena Jackson
Poetry, Readings/Events, teaching
"The Poet's Dream:" The 2020 Geraldine R. Dodge Poetry Festival (October 22-November 1)
October 19, 2020 October 19, 2020 lizahl
In October 1986, I was a high school student in Cherry Hill, New Jersey, and attended the first Geraldine R. Dodge Poetry Festival in the village of Waterloo.
My family lived in Cherry Hill for two years when my dad was stationed at the Naval shipyard in Philadelphia. It was difficult time for teenage me, a time of struggle and growth. I was caught shoplifting. I smoked pot for the first time. We were renting a house in a neighborhood that wasn't really accustomed to welcoming "new folks," and for most of my first months of school at Cherry Hill High School East, nobody at the bus stop would talk to me. And I was too shy to talk to them. I was used to living either on a Navy base or in a neighborhood near enough to a large enough Navy base that there were lots of new kids every year, and we just kind of knew how to be with one another.
But eventually, at this supremely well-resourced public school, I found teachers and peers who were "my people." Miss Beck and Mr. LaVoie, in particular, and the students I met in their English and Creative Writing classes, were, finally, such a source of connection. I also found a weekend program, the New Jersey School of the Arts, hosted at the then Glassboro State College, where I connected pretty intensely with three other young writers.
Anyhow, I'm thinking of the Dodge Festival on this, its 34th (!) year, and its first year entirely online due to the pandemic. I dug up the program from that year and the few photos I took — mostly of some kind of Bread-and-Puppet-ish parade (was it actually Bread and Puppet??) called "The Poet's Dream." Or I assume that's what it was called, because that's what I wrote under one of the pictures I took. There was also one photo of Galway Kinnell reading. The other poet I had circled on my schedule was Amiri Baraka. I had already, two years before, attended my first ever official poetry reading — Gwendolyn Brooks in Washington, DC. I gushed about that reading in a Facebook post on her birthday this June. Many of the other names on the Festival program were ones I just wasn't familiar with.
That first Friday of the Festival was specifically organized for students and teachers, and free to attend — and that access to poetry and its communities has always been a part of the Festival's ethos and mission. It continues this year — you can get a free all-access pass if you are a student or educator. They are also offering their standard all-access pass as "pay-what-you-can," and a free version for live-streaming and discussion groups only. I'm hoping to encourage some of the writing students I'm currently working with to register and attend.
Looking at this year's amazing Festival schedule, I see so many poets whose work I love and admire, I see old friends and acquaintances and teachers from various parts of my poetry life. I see necessary themes and conversations.
Access to programs and events like the Dodge Festival, the NJ School of the Arts, and others really shaped and helped me, especially during certain periods of my life. Now, in 2020, access online to an overwhelming variety of readings and talks has been, for me, another nourishing source of connection and hope and help. I am so grateful the Dodge Festival endures, and if you can, I encourage you to join me in financially supporting this work. If the financial support isn't an option, consider spreading the word and, of course, participating in the Festival.
If it's back in person next year for the 35th (contingent upon so many other urgent "ifs"), I might have to head down there, as I can imagine the Festival serving as a good emerging-from-pandemic-isolation (please please please) experience. A poet can dream.
Tagged Geraldine R. Dodge Poetry Festival1 Comment
October 13, 2020 lizahl
So many things are so crappy right now. But watching Amanda Whitworth's work here — appreciating the instrument or language (?) of her body, and also of the work of her collaborators, the cinematographer and composer — transports me not exactly "away" from all that's crappy, but . . . I don't know . . . into a dimension or a facet of possibility. I don't even know what that means. Maybe only a body could say, wordlessly.
Tagged Canterbury Shaker Village, danceLeave a comment
About Writing, rumination, teaching
Practice/Versions/Revisions/Rehearsals
September 28, 2020 lizahl
I often think of and describe my dad as a "poster child" for a conventional/idealized U.S. middle-to-upper-middle class vision of retirement for his cohort — the "silent generation." After thirty years in the Navy, which included a tour in Vietnam, unaccompanied deployment with the Seabees, and running the Public Works Center at the Subic Bay Naval Station in the Philippines, he was able to retire. He and my mom moved back to Washington State, where he had worked to help build the Bangor Trident Submarine Base on the Hood Canal — we lived there for three years when I was in elementary school. They liked the area, and had retired Navy friends there, and so they made one last cross-country move and landed outside of Poulsbo, right up the Hood Canal from the sub base, on a piece of land where my dad designed and supervised the construction of the last house he'd ever live in, after a life of moving every one to three years, due not only to his own itinerant military career, but also to his father's thirty years in the Navy.
My dad's birthday is coming up in early October, and then, the fifth anniversary of his death at the very beginning of November. I have, in my adult life, resisted anniversaries of all kinds, have been skeptical and even cynical about them, not sure why, but a part of me also enjoys certain rituals and traditions. The approaching of the fifth year "mark" of my dad's sudden and unexpected death is on my mind. I wonder if my urge to commemorate is related to the pandemic, to the way the pandemic has altered — is altering –my relationship to time, to the passing of it, the measuring and marking of it, its role in how I try to live and comprehend my life. Many usual markers — many having to do with work, but also having to do with the rhythms of social and personal life — are radically altered or gone. So maybe how I feel about the role of ritual, of the intentional marking of time, which used to seem to mark itself (?), is changed and changing.
I opened this piece by asserting that my dad was a retirement "poster child" because he was such a good hobbyist. He Kept Busy. He made artful, precise scratch- and kit-built model ships. He took up the Appalachian mountain dulcimer. And he took up watercolor painting. Or, more precisely, in retirement he was able to dedicate himself more fully to even deeper pursuit and practice of these avocations to which he had been called, to varying degrees, before he actually retired.
I am interested in this turn of phrase, to "take" something "up." I picture a person gathering something into their arms, maybe lifting it a bit? To take something "on" is to "begin to do" something, according to etymonline.com. I can't find an entry there for "take up" but it feels to me like a step past "taking on." In this thread, "take on" is described as more "burdensome," hinting at an obligation, a challenge, or maybe at something adversarial, whereas "take up" is more of a free choice, maybe a chance at pleasure?
Now that I think about it more, I'd say my dad took on "taking up" as a retiree, for sure. As if it was his obligation (his new "job?") to "pursue interests." His obligation to enjoy them deeply. To not squander his opportunity. He probably wouldn't have called it privilege, but it sure seems like privilege, that leisure.
My dad was not a mere dabbler in any of these three major avocations. He took them on and up with a patient seriousness of purpose, such a long-game for learning. He was a faithful practitioner, a "practicer." My dad believed, I think, in mastery, but also, I think, he was patient about not achieving it. Especially with the painting, he put in the process and practice work. I wonder if this is related at all to the fact that both his sister and his mother were accomplished, "professional" artists. When he died, I already had a framed painting of his — my favorite from among a half-dozen or so from which he asked me to choose — hanging in my house in New Hampshire. (Also on the wall, a painting by my grandmother, and one by my aunt.)
But when my mom asked if I wanted any of the … dozens? hundreds? of stiff sheets of watercolor work he'd left behind, I didn't look for another finished piece to hang on my wall. I was mostly drawn instead to the artifacts of his process, his practice.
There was even more of this stuff — and I took more than I've pictured here. His careful study documented. His practice, his learning, his trying, preserved here in these patches of color, these "tests." And there were also a few starts or "drafts" I snagged. Though I guess I have no business saying what part of his process they represent or occupy.
Here's my dad's finished painting on my wall, the one I chose when he asked me to choose:
In the work he left behind, I found two versions — shall I call them sketches? attempts? perhaps rehearsals? — of the same scene. I am fascinated by them. I look and look at them.
It's like seeing a little bit through his eyes, or so I tell myself, in this moment, trying that notion out in these words, this draft of an idea. A version. Not a commitment, even though putting the words into the white void sometimes can feel like signing a contract. Not so, not so. There are more words, different shades of the same idea, different ideas. Time passes through ideas/ideas pass through time.
Here are the two versions/drafts of the painting:
I look at these and I think: rehearsal. Practice. Getting to know the materials. Getting to know one's own vision as enacted by brush strokes, color choices, quantity of water.
How do you rehearse for the "final version?" When do you know the final is the final? Is the version on my wall "finished" because it is framed, because it's displayed? My dad is the one who decreed it finished, who had it framed as a gift for me. Also — he was finished — is forever finished — painting versions of the work. There will be no further work. So, in some literal sense, this is the "final" in a series. But I guess I'm asking, wondering, why even care about "finality?" I'm not sure.
These questions are ones I ask myself from time to time, and which I encourage my writing students to ask themselves and one another. They are sort of unanswerable. I try to talk with students sometimes about the difference between BEING finished WITH something (for now?) and a THING being FINISHED, though is that even a real distinction? And of course for writers I work with in university classes, the constraints of a "semester" which ENDS (and then a new one begins!) influence the pace and timing of composing, reflecting, and revising.
If to begin a thing is to "take it up," might "finishing" be an act of "putting down?" (Sometimes we describe acts of writing as "putting (something) down" on paper. We also sometimes use the expression, "to write down," not just "to write." "Write down these instructions." What is "up" in that figuring?)
What shall I do with these versions of revision? These versions of my dad's vision? These transcripts of his trying? These archived attempts? What story of painting, of learning, of testing materials and gestures, do I want them to serve? What story of my father do I want them to serve?
It must be a kind of revision when I write about my dad in certain ways, certain genres, on certain days. Re-vision as I re-member him when he is dead and I am fifty, as opposed to when I was thirty and he was still living. Revision if I make it past the age he was when he died a few years ago to remember him again, remember him differently. I am thinking again, still, of time — how my thinking about my father recently is connected to the time of year, to the passage of time, to the commemorations of "birthday" and "day of death." To my own aging. And so I think also of how re-vision feels connected to the passages of time, the duration and pace (of the poem, of the world swirling around the poem, of the before-poem and during-poem and after-poem), the shapes and textures we call time, those marks of it we make. Marks like clock numbers, like brush strokes, like words.
I wish he were here to ask; I'm sure he'd have things to say about the flaws of the versions of his painting — their failures, their incompleteness. And yet, the materials and technique — watercolor — he uses in this painting feel so….resistant to completeness. The painting edges up into what feels to me like a kind of minimalism when I imagine practicing what I see as a skilled kind of restraint. What I mean is, the few times I've tried seriously to draw or paint, I think my fatal flaw is not stopping soon enough. I was told this once (kindly, I think) by an art teacher. I look at the framed painting and wonder if the reason he framed it, named it finished, and not the others, is his feeling that he stopped painting at just the right moment? I don't know. Probably if I'd found all three versions in the huge stack of his work, I wouldn't be so certain which was the "final draft." Which one I would have chosen to have professionally framed, which two relegate to the closet archives?
For the most part, I save no such archives myself — most of my versions disappear in the wake of revision — my rehearsals in the form of sequences of drafts are mostly ephemeral. There are exceptions, but most of the saved work is printed out and annotated, and is in a folder of "unfinished" stuff I mean to get back to.
Except that some poems I write are of course revisions/versions of poems I've already "finished," or of "a poem" I keep writing and (re) writing and may never finish. And so maybe some poems are rehearsals only I don't know they are rehearsals.
Or maybe many or maybe all my poems are rehearsals of some kind.
About Writing, COVID-19, Poetry, rumination
August 8, 2020 August 8, 2020 lizahl
I make myself go outside. It is nice outside, not too hot, but sunny and robin's egg blue sky. A light breeze to keep the bugs off. To have to "make" myself go out into such temperate loveliness is so absurd. I am glassy-eyed and dimwitted from hours, days, weeks of screen work punctuated by the social media work-distractions which also serve as my sole contact with most of my people these days, and it is a nice day and I have a book of poems to finish reading and it is August and I am sad and frustrated and the fall semester of teaching writing (online) is looming, and winter is coming and so out I go.
There's some windfall from the remnants of tropical storm Isaias. Acorn-studded bouquets thrown down from the skyscraper oak. Last year's paper wasp nest gust-scrubbed from the skylight frame.
(I have not been writing poems. These words about the nest and the oak have the vague feel of poetry, but don't pull me into drafting a poem the way they might have in March. That next step, such a habit, ordinarily such an optimistic impulse for me once I've got some initial image/language down, escapes me these last pandemic months. Where I once stepped confidently, almost thoughtlessly, many times before — nothing. Or nothing solid. Air, or something else. Some place I don't want to tread.)
All those empty chambers
I sit down to read but want to scoot the potted celery over so I can set down my notebook on the picnic table. As I shove the pot over, I reveal a toad. He is not amused. He was not expecting this turn of events.
The toad scoots back underneath the pot, where it's cool and safe, for now.
I think about the metaphors I want to make from the toad. The contemplative distance between my wanting to and my doing it is nearly nonexistent. First I consider the sudden exposure, the moments of disorientation and maybe fear, and then the finding again of that cool, dark space. I think about all the time I have spent inside over the last months. Then I'm thinking about how the few times I go out now, masked and skittish, I feel exposed and worried and strange. E(strange)d. And I am lucky enough to have a long-term partner at home, someone with whom to talk and cry and laugh and eat and be. And maybe I should just let a toad be a toad. I do not have a good history of letting toads be toads, however:
from my chapbook, A Thirst That's Partly Mine (2008, Slapering Hol Press)
I wrote that poem almost 15 years ago. Maybe longer? I was still teaching Introduction to Literature, which I think I only did my first few semesters on the faculty at my university, where I will start my 20th year in a couple of weeks.
It's (e)strange to read this poem now, to revisit its long-ago March (or April?), and to think back to this year's pandemic shut-down right after spring break. Hubris. Being on the lookout. Toad as soothsayer. Spring full of flood, earthquake, astronomical rarities, weather extremes, and my own casual imaginings about what "plague" might descend next.
Later, after reading some poems and pausing to stare at the sky and reading some more poems, I notice a caterpillar, on the picnic table, making its way somewhere. When I first see it, it is caterpillar-ing confidently forward, like it knows where it's headed. But when it hits the edge of the picnic table, it seems fully unprepared for the sheer drop, the next steps suddenly gone, suddenly air. It reaches and reaches into the void where the path should be.
If I can't let a toad be a toad, I also definitely can't let a caterpillar be a caterpillar. I mean, they transform (!) into moths and butterflies (!!) for crying out loud. They can't let themselves be caterpillars. They spin cocoons of self-generated silk around their bodies and mutate into a new form, often one dramatically different from their caterpillar embodiment in terms of color and texture.
Out on an errand last week, I wore a face mask as usual, but also happened to be wearing a hat and sunglasses, and I'm pretty sure someone who has known me for 15+ years did not recognize me — they are a brassy, call-to-you-across-the-crowded-restaurant extroverted person who always notices/sees me, says hello/engages in chat when we run into each other. They were oddly standoffish, and it wasn't until I was back in the car that it occurred to me that maybe this person had not actually known it was me. Had not recognized me.
This didn't make me mad or upset — instead, it reminded me of when I was new to the area all those years ago, how nobody knew me from Adam, and also about how much I enjoyed, for the first two thirds of my life, the opportunity, given and given again, of being a stranger, being unknown, being anonymous. Being new, and maybe transformed by that newness.
Was I enjoying the notion of (possible) rare anonymity in pretty much the same instant I was mourning spending 95% of my time physically — and emotionally — apart from the world beyond our front door? Was I remembering a more itinerant life, when I rarely lived anywhere for more than a few years? When I was somewhat regularly renewed by…..being new? By being the stranger?
From Etymology Online
What is my current relationship to estrangement, anyhow?
I make myself look at the sky. Then I take a photo of the sky. I am documenting and archiving, which feels like a thing I can do to disrupt the strange stillness of just looking at the unmediated sky. Or observing, without recording, a caterpillar.
I have never succeeded at meditation, as far as I know. (I have also perhaps not tried very hard.)
How long was I outside before I was putting all of it to metaphorical purposes? Did I bring the purposes with me out onto the deck, with my book and notebook and iPad, or were they only revealed to me (like a toad!) after I got out here?
I wonder if there can even be an unmediated sky or caterpillar if I am there looking at it, camera or no. Aren't I just a camera? I'm not even sure I want to let the caterpillar just be a caterpillar, or a toad a toad, or if that's even an option, given language, given my hungry, narrating gaze.
Two ways I think about ending this writing. First way — another video, with my foolish narrating voice calling a melodramatic play-by-play for an inchworm who, in "the end" (of my documenting/narrative framing) succeeds, survives, makes it across the gap, doesn't get eaten by the toad, etc., etc.:
Second way — I consider how the caterpillar and the inchworm, in their reaching with the whole front ends of their bodies into the empty air, across the gap, remind me of the first card of the major arcana of the standard Tarot deck: The Fool.
On the left, the Rider-Waite (classic, popular tarot deck) rendition of the Fool; in the center, a more contemporary riff on the traditional Fool iconography in the "Light Seers" tarot deck, and on the right, the Fool from my own tarot deck, the Hanson Roberts. The significant common image: the cliff the Fool's about to step (or fall) off of.
At Tarot.com (the Hanson-Roberts link above), this is part of their description of the Fool:
"Modern decks usually borrow from the Rider-Waite imagery. Most Fool cards copy the bucolic mountainside scene, the butterfly, and the potential misplaced step that will send The Fool tumbling into the unknown. Don't forget, though, that the earlier versions of this card represented already-fallen humanity, over-identified with the material plane of existence, and beginning a pilgrimage toward self-knowledge and, eventually, wisdom."
The gap. The fumble and reach. The unknown. Fools of all stripes, neither fully innocent nor irredeemably fallen, poised to take that tumble or leap or step.
That next step, such a habit, ordinarily such an optimistic impulse for me once I've got some initial image/language down, escapes me these last pandemic months. Where I once stepped confidently, almost thoughtlessly, many times before — nothing. Or nothing solid. Air, or something else.
Tagged metaphor, poetry, tarot, writers block3 Comments
More Moten & Harney: Two-Part Podcast "Revisiting The Undercommons in a Time of Pandemic and Rebellion"
July 28, 2020 July 29, 2020 lizahl
"Wildcat the Totality: Fred Moten and Stefano Harney Revisit The Undercommons in a Time of Pandemic and Rebellion (Part 1)
"Give Away Your Home, Constantly:" Fred Moten and Stefano Harney Revisit The Undercommons in a Time of Pandemic and Rebellion (Part 2)
As in my earlier post on Moten & Harney, I am mainly transcribing language and ideas from the podcast that I wanted to capture and study further. I am hoping that taking this step leads to the next step — some kind of synthesis & further reflection — and I am finding connections between the things discussed these podcasts (and The Undercommons) and other reading/thinking/talking I'm doing.
Moten and Harney discuss critique versus study, & "wildcatting." Reminding us that when they wrote The Undercommons, they were writing a book about "study," not a book about the university. And particularly about certain kinds of Black study outside of institutionalization as Black Studies in the university.
They talk about the (American? primarily?) university as a place of violence – a place that "has always been a structure for the regulation and incarceration of intellectual life – not for it to flourish."
But at the same time, they note, "the brutal interdictions of intellectual life OUTSIDE of the university have been so intense, folks have fled to the university to seek refuge from that brutality."
But they find that the notion of the university as refuge is ultimately false.
They examine the university as "a job, a place where people work," and seek to understand the university better on those terms, but to do this (study) outside of academic labor — to move from "critique" to "study."
Tearing down statues of racists as "national plastic surgery."
The police are just policy by another name. This idea is one that has been really resonating with me over the past months as I have read/studied/considered police/prison defunding/abolition as connected to the university/classroom as a carceral space. And "policy" is, for me, a really clear way to see that connection, that carcerality. As in, policy is just police by another name.
Solidarity is also fundamentally selflessness (not about that something that activates your SELF through some figure of the Other so that you can become more fully and completely who you are, the good person you were meant to be, etc…)
I really liked the whole thread at the end about politics/candidates/voting – too much to transcribe here (I'm lazy I guess) — start around 45-50 minutes into the podcast and listen for yourself. Or, really, truly, just listen to the whole thing, both parts.
Some issues and ideas Moten and Harney get into in this part — the destruction of the commons, the problematic of ownership, living on stolen land and "homelessness."
MOTEN: "Homelessness is not the condition in which you ain't got no place to stay. Homelessness is not the condition in which you ain't got a house. Homelessness is the condition in which you share your house, literally. It's the condition in which you give your house away, constantly, as a practice of hospitality . . . . home is where you give home away."
On study:
MOTEN: "The kind of thing that we do, which is reading and writing and talking about books, I think it's important. I'm not ashamed of it. I think it's a good thing to do, I think it's important to try to imagine ever more radical ever less privatized ways to do that. But Black study is not reducable to reading and writing and talking about books. Reading and writing and talking about books is an irreducible part of Black study, but Black study is not reducable to reading and writing and talking about books."
HARNEY – playing/listening to music together, watching sports together, dinner and conversation – all intellectual pursuits, all are potential Black study that don't get counted by (university) Black Studies (discipline/institutions)
HARNEY: "It seems like a general condition in study that if it appears at first like a gentle and passive thing, that's 'cause we are trying to practice being gentle and passive. However, it's also an immediately antagonistic thing, it's that primary insurgency coming forth, and the way you know that is that no matter where you practice study (not equally, and yet it is the case), that someone will come after you to stop you. And that's of course what we first discovered in the university, when we used to say, early on, "what's the one thing you're not allowed to do in a university?" and the answer was "study." Now, don't get me wrong, there's a risk of that seeming flippant with regard to trying to study in a prison. I'm not trying to equate them. I'm simply saying that although study is in many ways the practice of allowing people really to have the time to think about something and rehearse something, revise it together, sit and be with each other on and on and on, it does have this quality of allowing a kind of gentle flow of time to give you this space…it is nonetheless caught up in a struggle all the time to maintain itself. And if you don't believe that, try studying, and very quickly you will see how many people come to your door to stop you: landlords, bosses, teachers, police, the water man. Whatever the case may be that you have had to struggle against in order to be there together. Study is a struggle."
Other ideas/concepts explored in the podcast: "the surround," indigeneity and its relation to Blackness, enclosure, settlement, destruction of the notion of sovereignty itself, and fugitivity
HARNEY: "The surround is a constant insurgency against sovereignty and everybody who participates in it . . . . there's so much misunderstanding, especially in Afro-pessimism, about indigenous sovereignty, but that comes from putting things backwards, to imagining that sovereignty precedes the rebellion, and I think that's just not right, just not correct, and that historically its not the experience of indigenous struggles. The experience of indigenous struggles is that one can find a home there, a fugitive home. That land is not "sovereign" in that sense, there's not a fence there's nothing permanent in that way about its ownership. The surround is also set as a constant broil against land in a way, a constant broil against settlement, which is not to say that it can't take the form of home, or homelessness, in the way that we've been talking about it."
I found it engaging to listen/think about this after reading and discussing Tuck & Yang's "Decolonization is not a metaphor."
Other topics and issues discussed as the podcast continues — abolition, non-reformist reforms, defunding of police, current uprising, and carceral policies generally.
I was interested to hear them discuss "fugitive planning" connected with recent/current protest movements (but/and which has been ongoing for a while – mutual aid, bail funds, community orgs, etc.) — self organized, insurgent work that is constantly calling out the police/policy (that's where planning is going on all the time – in what we might take to be "unorganized" way – but that misapprehension might be the result of our own lack of study/understanding)
The idea that we have "policy" (public/visible/"rational"/"what folks want to see") versus (fugitive) "planning" is one I want to study further.
Moten speaks of thinking more about solidarity – how it operates with policy (as opposed maybe to the refusal of policy).
MOTEN: "I can't deny the very palpable shock to the system that occurs when you watch mainstream TV news taking seriously a debate about defunding the police. That's a thing. I wasn't expecting that any time this century. I don't know what it means. I think that it can, it should, fill people with equal measure of exhilaration and dread. And that all has to be worked out in practice on the ground. One of the ways it gets worked out is in maybe trying to understand better, let's say, what the difference is between the expression of solidarity or the expression of empathy and the PRACTICE of empathy, or the PRACTICE of solidarity. And maybe what we might want to say would be that the expression of empathy the expression of solidarity manifests itself within the realm of policy, and the practice of solidarity and the practice of empathy, that manifests itself in the realm of planning. And maybe protest is a more general phenomenon which can contain but also move by way of the suppression of either of those modes. And at a certain point when the protests dwindle, which they must do, because protests don't generate their own energy, right, they're not self-generating energy fields, and when that energy is expended, then we have to say, "okay what do we do now, where do we go now?", not only to regenerate that energy but also to imagine the distribution and circulation of that energy within our own social field and not just as an expression either of solidarity or an expression event of conflict, let's say, with the police or with policy. . . . For all the folks who really love that conflict, they don't have to worry, 'cause policy and the police, they ain't going anywhere just yet, whether the shit is funded or not. But there always remains the question of "what are we going to do?" And it's really important for us I think to try to get enough information to look really closely and think really deeply about what folks have been doing. Which is part of the reason why we adamantly refuse and resist, in general, the constant invitation to write something about the present crisis. 'Cause we don't fucking know that yet, but we're trying to learn. We're trying to think about it. And there's always room for that learning and thinking. It doesn't always have to manifest itself as an immediate response."
FURTHER READING/STUDY
"The subprime and the beautiful," in African Identities, Vol 11, 2013 – Issue 2: Cedric J. Robinson: Radical Historiography, Black Ontology, and Freedom
"Politics Surrounded" (Moten & Harney) South Atlantic Quarterly (2011) 110 (4): 985–988
"Fred Moten's Radical Critique of the Present" (The New Yorker, 2018)
Tagged Fred Moten, Higher Education, Stefano Harney, The UndercommonsLeave a comment
rumination, teaching
Teaching/Learning in Progress: Thinking about the "Backchannel"
Was in Zoom webinar conversation yesterday with faculty and staff colleagues about the "chat" function in Zoom being a kind of backchanneling that some folks found great/helpful/fun and others found overwhelming/distracting/not fun. We had a general conversation of different kinds of "backchanneling," like, for instance, live-tweeting a conference presentation or class or other live/f2f event. We talked about access, distraction, engagement, etc.
We were asked to actually take a VOTE about whether we wanted to continue (in our synchronous/Zoom professional development sessions) to keep the Zoom chat live/open, or to have a separate (on Microsoft Teams) backchannel. We were also, of course, and more importantly, asked to think about this stuff with respect to the university courses we would be teaching in online and hybrid formats in the fall. We ran out of talking time, but were invited to reflect further. So I did.
In our conversation, I mentioned being reminded of Robert Brooke's notion of "underlife" in the writing classroom. Here's a wee summary, and here's a link to the original scholarship (man, that was a long time ago!).
Channels are interesting to think about metaphorically. I think of water flowing – how a river might split into smaller channels and then rejoin. The English Channel (swim it! put a chunnel under it!).
A channel can be a (alternative? unplanned? VERY planned?) way of getting somewhere AND a channel can be a barrier. Channeling is also what a medium does, to speak to (and for) the Spirits.
Backchannel implies front channel. The river is the front channel, and when it hits the delta, it splits into multiple (subsidiary? smaller? less powerful? unnamed? seasonal? unmapped?) "back" (side?) channels.
Regarding the Zoom backchannels as I have experienced them – I have mixed feelings for sure. I like that the backchannel might "capture" something (a question, an idea) that might otherwise be "lost" (or never…exist?)
maybe not everything needs to be "captured?" What is the function of the ephemeral? The advantage of forgetting?
I sometimes find the backchannel distracting – I distract myself with it and am distracted by it.
When I am grumpiest about it, the backchannel/backchatter that happens during a presentation makes me think about the times at poetry open mics when a poet gets up to the mic, midway through the reading, and says, "I just wrote this here tonight," which my internal grump-translator translates into "I am only here for you to listen to me, I am to busy with myself/my own work to bother listening to YOU."
I occasionally imagine I am better at multi-channeling than I actually am – but mostly I know I am NOT good at focusing on more than one thing/thread/stream at once.
I occasionally use the backchannel to indulge in unnecessary chatter. Sometimes snarky, sometimes not.
such small talk might be "signs of life" in a class community? (or signs of "underlife?") Which could be helpful for all to see?
I think the backchannel worked pretty well in the Advanced Poetry Workshop this spring, and has worked well in Zoom poetry readings I've attended – it's a space where folks can emphasize lines/images they liked, during the reading, kind of like at an actual poetry slam (or some readings) – you know, that little sound you or someone might make when you hear a really AFFECTING line? In the poetry workshop, I think students appreciated being able to go back through the chat (alongside the written feedback they received AND the spoken feedback in the live zooming) as part of the overall experience.
When are the "distractions" worth the reward? Maybe we can't always anticipate the reward, and therefore can't plan for it.
Could the chat be used/function like a "fishbowl" discussion? Like, assign some folks to the chat to describe/comment on the spoken activity/conversation? This sort of….un-backs the backchannel, or, like, brings into alignment with the main channel.
Maybe there's room for both – moments when the backchannel is (necessarily, unavoidably, helpfully) subsersive/counter/"back", and other moments when the backchannel is harnessed (?) or serving (??) the main channel.
Or should the backchannel be left entirely to its wild, unbroken, un-harnessable ways? I don't know! (Maybe the real backchannel is never for me — the teacher — to see?)
Can backchannel reinforce "clicqueiness?" Battle it?
Backchanneling can be a way IN and/or a way OUT. And a way…alongside?
That's all I wrote. (in my notebook, I mean. Like, my paper notebook. And now here.)
Tagged backchannels, learning, teaching, ZoomLeave a comment
Undercommons/Exodus/Presence/Institutions: Some Ideas and Language from Fred Moten & Stefano Harney
from Jack Halberstam's introduction to The Undercommons
Honestly, probably don't even read this post — it's mostly just notes I took when viewing/listening to the video. And most of it is just transcribing. Spend your time reading THIS (by Moten & Harney) and watching the video below, I say. Then you'll have the fuller context and your own experience of the interesting stuff I didn't pluck out to include here. There's so much to think about. (I am still figuring out most of what I think about all of this, what I might do with it. Honestly, the act of transcribing/typing has been helpful to me.)
The video was hosted HERE — at "FUC" — "a weekly online series that hosts conversations around labor, labor movements, de-commodified knowledge, and the future of the university and higher education. It is facilitated by rent-burdened graduate students at the University of California in solidarity with the COLA movement."
From early in the video, some reflections on The Undercommons (which I am currently reading for the first time) from Harney & Moten–
Moten emphasizes: "The Undercommons is not a book about the university."
–not meant a disavowal or scolding, but a way of "recognizing that if the dream of the subversive or critical or fugitive intellectual is to rise above their complicity with the institution, there is no individualized path for any such rising above, and so the answer really isn't to rise above complicity but to try to practice and activate an alternative radical complicity, which is again about shared practice rather than individual roles." (Moten)
"trying to find more radical form of complicity—where, rather than imagining we can extract ourselves individually from the university, we build up an increasing number of unseen accomplices who are there with us in the university and who undermine any steady ability of the university to characterize, affix us, and to frame us, because somehow it's not just you. Seen or unseen, others are there. Others are in some sort of conspiracy without a plot inside the university. And then at the same time, we know that we can only leave together, because whatever wealth we have, whatever means of production we have, we only hold those in common." (Harney)
"We're trying to understand the relationship between abolition and exodus." (Moten)
(maybe also between exodus and presence?)
A concrete thing that might be done: detach universities from local police departments, abolish university police departments.
But, Moten asks, what if it turns out that faculty and administration do more policing at the university than the campus police or town/city police do?
So let's not be police in our classrooms. With our "policies," say.
Harney adds a list of other institutions – the "artist" as institution, the "professor" as institution, "the subject/individual" as institution – that need to be abolished.
Abolishing the individual/subject kind of blows my mind. But I do find myself wondering about the institution of myself lately. What my self (my roles, my subjectivity?) has institutionalized.
Moten, responding to a question about what practices are possible for folks in the university to enact, towards abolition/exodus.
"I'll do the wrong thing and answer the question."
"For those of us who are teaching, we should stop grading, and we should stop giving assignments. Just that, on the most basic level right there. Stop doing the administrative work of the university. Radically detach the credentializing function of the university, which is a front for finance capital, and detach the intellectual and social and aesthetic work that we would like to do with one another in the hope and in the recognition that doing that collective intellectual social and aesthetic work will actually be a practice of exodus, gathering, and presencing against the grain of the already-existing institution."
"The correct response to the question… is not to answer it – but to say let's continually ask that question with and of and for one another in every gathering that we are engaged in and let every class be a class on that, let that be the curriculum, let that be the occasion and the content of our gathering, and let the form and practice of our gathering emerge from the continual asking of that question."
"Our daily work is the work of reforming a completely unworkable system." (Harney)
Got me thinking about this notion that by just showing up and cooperating, we are re-forming, minute by minute, action by action, the institution.
Moten asks, in re-framing another question, "How do we comport ourselves towards the enemy when the enemy is us?"
(a question meant not to induce paralysis, but rather movement)
Moten, responding to a questioner in a way that models for me how I'd like to respond to students in the classes I teach — "I hope that you feel that the dissatisfactory nature of our response is actually a tribute to the depth of your question rather than an attempt to avoid it, and if it's dissatisfactory, it's just 'cause we don't know no better, but we're thinking about it now along with you."
"Your question messed me up….I appreciate you for that…..I've got some thinking to do."
Moten is interested in the potential of Zoom classes to potentially buck the credentialing function of classes:
"The university guards access to my class because they're guarding access to the mechanism which produces the credential. They don't give a fuck about the "experience." Right? So what I like about Zoom is I can let anybody up in there, if they want to come. And what's interesting will be when the university starts to try to take our teaching and turn that into their intellectual property. They've already done that with research, particularly with regard to the sciences."
What use might be made, Moten wonders, if we distinguish between the "credential-buyers" and the folks who "just want to talk about Plato that day." Momentarily setting aside the fact that he doesn't really support the credentialing function in any way, Moten wonders if the class should be free for the ones who want to talk about Plato and that the credential-buyers should pay for the credential credits.
This idea of seeing more clearly that credentialing is separate from "the experience" (?) of study/learning together is a big & helpful one for me.
I am still reading & listening & thinking, so….more to come? Maybe here? Maybe a separate post?
Teaching/Learning in Progress: Uncomfortable Habits
For the Cluster Pedagogy Learning Community at Plymouth State University, which I've committed to participate in this school year, we've been asked to do lots of different work so far, and to do it on various channels, publicly if possible/desirable. I have mostly kept my work to the semi-privacy of the Teams site associated with my cohort in this program. I started trying to show/share some of my teaching work in the spring, but my efforts there were stymied by the pandemic.
One of our recent prompts was to "write (and share if you feel comfortable doing so) a self-assessment on your own development of the Habits of Mind and pay particular attention to the signposts on the benchmarks for the level of achievement you believe you have attained. How do you demonstrate that level of achievement? What behaviors do you exhibit for each of the signposts?" (The Habits of Mind are a part of our General Education program.)
I don't feel particularly comfortable sharing this publicly. But I have seen others in my cohort step out into a wider public with their work, and have been grateful and impressed. I am also interested in spending some more time in that feeling — discomfort (shorthand for fears & anxieties) as I consider what it might mean to teach in the fall, with/in the pandemic (and beyond, if there is a beyond), with a heightened awareness of the trauma that infuses nearly everything right now — the trauma that feels new to some of us, and which is familiar — if perhaps amplified — for others of us, students, faculty, and staff, friends and families.
This discomfort (showing my written reflection, my writing-to-think) is something many of my students experience regularly when I ask them to share their work, which may feel to them similarly unformed, and which may spark fears and anxieties similar to the ones I am feeling just now — around sharing this particular (not very high stakes) reflection, but also more generally, around teaching, the university, trauma, access, (in)humanity, and more. I want to both explore the "early" (?) sharing of thinking-in-process as part of thinking-in-process, AND I want to push back against pressures towards concluding, asserting, completing. Push back against the "process" as some kind of byproduct of product. (This is connected to some of my questions about the "summit," I think.)
Anyhow, here's what I shared in that more private space on Tuesday morning, which I'll share now on Sunday in this less private space. I have resisted the urge to edit it. For now.
(WARNING — This is a straight-up FREEWRITE. Also, I am surely not doing this prompt correctly. ALSO I am not asserting any truths or conclusions here! I would not normally share this work, but, welp, here we go. I am engaged!)
The question, "How do you demonstrate that level of achievement" is interesting to me because of how it immediately makes me wonder: demonstrate to WHOM? When? How often? And maybe even WHY "demonstrate?" Maybe that verb is giving me pause. How about "enact" or "practice" or "employ?" "Demonstrate" makes me think about showing or "proving" (with evidence!) what I know, what I can do. But also maybe of a teaching-related activity. All of which makes me think of schooling. Also "exhibit" makes me think of evidence — also of a museum, a sideshow, symptoms of disease. "Exhibiting behaviors" also sounds a little clinical, a little pathological. (This is not me critiquing the assignment language, this is me rolling around in it, as I do, to find/make meaning) "Level of achievement." Are these levels stable? Linear? Is "summit" more aspirational than actual? That's how it often feels to me. But even if it's actual, doesn't our sense of "summit" change over time? Like, anybody else have the experience of being certain you were at a "summit" (for years, maybe) but then you realize (how? through more living/learning, I guess) there is actually more climbing for you than you'd realized. More climbing than you could see (were able/ready to see?) before. Hm.
PURPOSEFUL COMMUNICATION — as a writer, I suppose I'm good enough at this? I will never be at the "summit," as I believe no "summit" actually exists? I'm certainly beyond basecamp. I'm climbing. Sometimes I write to find/discover/create my writing purpose, though, which is a purposeful activity.
"To be effective, messages must engage the perspectives of others and foster dialog among individuals and the community." ALL messages must do all of this all the time? Is drafting a poem sort of communicating with myself?
Is this, right now, messaging? I have a purpose — to write-to-know, to use writing as a way to create/come to understanding or clarity (or purpose). But, like, is this a message for an audience beyond myself? What purposes might such learning-in-public serve? To document a process? And why do that? It feels very vulnerable to potentially do this work in front of others, before I have arrived at my Purposes.
I think poetry writing and much art making is actually problem-solving in some sense. (It is many other things, too.) According to the definition we're using, problem-solving includes the "ability to think creatively, adapt and extend one's thinking, acknowledge different contexts and incorporate different perspectives," — what does it mean to incorporate different perspectives in a piece of art? For how many artists might art making be primarily about discovering/shaping/rendering their PARTICULAR perspective? Owning that? NOT "incorporating" others in the "solving" of the "problem" of the individual painting or song or poem? The language, "embrace flexibility, consider potential implications, determine courses of action, persist and adapt despite failure, and reflect on the results" is all very much in line, I think, with how I teach writing. And how I compose and revise poems. As to other kinds of problems — and a more general assessment — I find I am not as adaptable/creative as one might imagine a poet should be. I get stuck sometimes in old/established ways of thinking — I get in my own way with some stubbornness. I think I am better at spending time sussing out what a problem actually IS — like, describing/comprehending it. I think I resist "solutionism." I think I privilege experimentation over problem-solving, though experiments are frequently part of a problem-solving process. But….does a poem or painting even need/want to solve anything? Useful, perhaps, to distinguish imaginative writing from expository/more utilitarian (UGH UGH UGH) writing here. Maybe. The composition essay as a problem to be solved? The QUESTION or WONDERING behind the composition essay as a problem (such a negative connotation!) to be solved (must it be? What if we were allowed to remain in the unsolvedness? Can solving ever be the wrong thing to do with/to a problem? Freewriting is fun.
INTEGRATED PERSPECTIVE
"the recognition that individual beliefs, ideas, and values are influenced by personal experience as well as multiple contextual factors—cultural, historical, political, etc." I think I know this. I achieve this. I think this is partly from growing up a military brat and moving every 2-3 years, living overseas, etc. I think also my discipline (English/literary and cultural studies/creative writing) also relies in large part on these notions — that contexts and subjectivities are FUNDAMENTAL, not just, considerations alongside or after the fact. I think I "demonstrate" good "climbing" here by owning my perspectives AS perspectives, by using tools I've accumulated (self-reflection, pausing and listening, stepping outside myself as much as such a thing is remotely possible to imagine empathetically other perspectives, language and theory around words like "other," etc.) to examine my own assumptions as such. "Students will acknowledge the limitations of singular points of view and recognize the benefits of engaging with and learning from others in order to integrate multiple perspectives for effective communication, problem-solving, and collaboration." We face interesting challenges these days from those who use this kind of language alongside "just my opinion" and "free speech" to recast, say, SCIENCE as a matter of "perspective," which, yes, of course it is, and is also multiple/variant/evolving/WRONG sometimes — but — I've seen a careless and cruel version of "relativism" in the media/culture lately, a "both-sides-ism" that feels like a crude (mis)casting of "limitations of singular points of view." BUT THAT'S JUST MY OPINION, MKAY?
SELF-REGULATED LEARNING
I wish I were less responsive to extrinsic motivators — praise, badges, desire to be connected with others in certain ways. I mean, I read, I am curious, I write, I learn — do I set "goals" for learning? Not always, or if so, I just am not thinking consciously about it. Right now I have some goals — around learning how to build community online, how to act against the racist white-supremacist impulses of an institution I am a part of/complicit with. I feel DESPERATE to learn how to be in higher education while transforming (I mean in much more serious ways, not task forces and mitigation and lawsuit-proofing and placating) higher education. What is UP with that desperation, though? Partly it's that I no longer trust higher ed (which is partly no longer trusting MYSELF) to see/do the work required. And yet, so much of what I have been reading and thinking about — so many sources — come from or are attached to or are VISIBLE through structures of higher ed. So. Where was I? Self-regulation. I desire to learn, but also must deal with the institution inside me — the institution that is me, that part of me — no small part — that relishes the familiarity and comfort and peace of the status quo in so many ways. UGH. Why would I (or my students or anybody) want to learn about how wrong we were/are about so much, how the strong and embedded and often invisible (to some) forces of status quo (within and without) continue to be. Am I taking intellectual risks? What would the evidence or "demonstration" of such risk be? Is there an "is it worth it" rubric for risk/reward? I think I am decent at metacognition, but also believe it has its limits. There's only so far "out" of myself I can get, yes?
IN CONCLUSION (lol) I as the student, handing in the homework, am feeling a couple of things: I have been engaged with these concepts. I have not exactly or clearly done the work I was asked to do. I am nervous that I shared too much. I worry what readers will think about me. I hardly know what I think of myself. This is a too-rough draft. I composed it on 750words.com, and work I do there is private/not typically shared. I don't mean this writing is "disposable," but, like, with respect to PURPOSEFUL COMMUNICIATION, I worry that this is hardly a "message." I see how organized and clear Cathie's is and I compare my work to that and think I should not share it, or I should rewrite before sharing, or I should do it more like Cathie did it. But I'm past 1400 words and have other work I need to get to. Have I spent enough time on this? Does it even make sense? What next? I do not know.
Tagged teachingLeave a comment
July 15, 2020 lizahl
This time last year, unbelievably, I was back home from a long trip out west — a driving trip, with so many visits and memorable moments & sights, unplanned "adventures," long stretches of open road, and the slowly evolving landscapes of the (almost) coast-to-coast route — plains, foothills, mountains, forests. The initial "excuse" for the trip was that I was going to be spending a two-week residency working on poems at the Playa Artist Residency Program in Summer Lake, Oregon.
Last week. I received this beautiful annual anthology full of writing and art from 2019 residents and it brought me right back, but also startled me into a sort of hiccup of time and memory. Remembering Playa (this was my third residency) is always sort of like remembering another world — that feeling is amplified now for me. Time and distance sprawl and ripple. Not just the strange and inspiring landscape of the "Oregon Outback" and Summer Lake, but also, the notion of such travel, so many embraces of friends in Chicago, in Nebraska, in Pennsylvania, a world of touch and faces that, too, feels distant and not a little bit unreal to me just now. I was there, I'm sure of it. I hope to make it back again — back to Playa, back to poetry, back to touch and faces. It will not be "back," exactly, though. Not the old world. Some world trying to be born right now.
Liz Ahl on Facebook!
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Cabwit
Desert of My Real Life
Drawing In
Jeff Oaks
Jonathan Santore
Plymouth State University Department of English
Poetry & Popular Culture
Seven Kitchens Press
Sibling Rivalry Press
The Chapbook Review
Young Writers Workshop
Books by Liz Ahl
A Thirst That's Partly Mine (Slapering Hol Press, 2008)
Beating the Bounds (Hobblebush Books, 2017)
Home Economics (Seven Kitchens Press, 2016)
Luck (Pecan Grove Press, 2010)
Talking About the Weather (Seven Kitchens Press, 2012)
Liz Ahl's poems in Anthologies
A Face to Meet the Faces: An Anthology of Contemporary Persona Poetry
Covid Spring: Granite State Pandemic Poems
Double Kiss: Stories, Poems & Essays on the Art of Billiards
Like Thunder: Poets Respond to Violence in America
Mischief, Caprice, and Other Poetic Strategies
Nasty Women Poets: An Unapologetic Anthology of Subversive Verse
Red, White, and Blues: Poets on the Promise of America
Show Us Your Papers
The Other Side of Sorrow: Poets Speak Out About Conflict, War, and Peace
This Assignment is So Gay
Times of Sorrow, Times of Grace: Writing by Women of the Great Plains/High Plains
Visiting Bob: Poems Inspired by the Life and Work of Bob Dylan
Liz Reading (Audio)
A Dozen Brown Eggs From a Friend
Electric Homework
Styx Concert, Jan 21, 2001
The Metric System
When We Smoked
Chapbooks: A World In Your Pocket (Review of A Thirst That's Partly Mine)
Matthew Cheney on Beating the Bounds
Moondancer Fellowship Announcement
Pease Public Library Reading February 2009
Review of "A Thirst That's Partly Mine" by Jerry Brunoe
The Bookshelf: Liz Ahl on Life as a New Hampshire "Insider"
Po-Biz Miscellany
Hudson Valley Writers Center
Jentel Artist Residency Program
Kimmel Harding Nelson Center for the Arts
The Center for Book Arts
Vermont Studio Center
Poems by Liz
"Setting Type" (with commentary)
"Compliance" in Tidal Basin Review (Winter 2015)
"Conjunctions, 2020" (Transition: Poems in the Afterglow)
"Defending the Constitution" at What Rough Beast (Indolent Books), April 2017
"Evangelical Pastors Lay Hands On Donald Trump In The Oval Office, July 12, 2017," in What Rough Beast (Indolent Books), September 2017
"Everything She Can't See" in Rappahannock Review
"Fake Ghazal" at What Rough Beast (Indolent Books), March 2017
"February 29" (in Big City Lit)
"In the Poker Room" at Panoply: A Literary Zine (January 2016)
"My Father's Tools" at The Good Men Project
"Ortho" on The Good Men Project
"Rage Sale" and "A Shoebox of Old Mix Tapes," in Blast Furnace (Vol. 3, Issue 3, October 2013)
"The Bathtub Virgin" (broadside)
"Walnut" in Pea River Journal (Fall 2014)
"War Shortages"
"When The Bread Fails" (in Sliver of Stone)
2 D.B. Cooper poems in museum of americana
Aquarium, February
Four poems in Mezzo Cammin (January 2014)
Kintsugi (written in response to work with Digital Pedagogy Lab in July 2020)
Putting the Flowers Out (in Atticus Review)
Six Poems by Liz Ahl at A Dozen Nothing
Snow Fort (in Panoply)
Two Poems in The Salt River Review
When She Comes Home From Camp (Lavender Review)
Favorite Poem Project
Hobblebush Books
Library of Congress (Poetry)
The Academy of American Poets
United States Poet Laureate
Liz Ahl on Facebook
Robin Reagler
Poet & Writer
wildandpreciouslifeseries.wordpress.com/
Eric Avedissian
AUTHOR, EDITOR & WORD-SLINGER
Trish Hopkinson
A selfish poet
opendistanceteachingandlearning
Open distance teaching and learning
MEASURE REVIEW
A MAGAZINE OF FORMAL POETRY
Progress Never Stops For Nostalgic Transsexuals
E-MAIL: casey.plett@gmail.com TWITTER: @caseyplett
CaptainAwkward.com
Don't need to be cool to be kind.
Poets in Pajamas Reading Series
Connecting Readers and Writers Across the World
The Public Autonomy Project
The ethics and politics of popular self-organization
Dreaming Freedom Practicing Abolition
Network of Abolition Study Groups in Pennsylvania, ORgai
Another fine mess.
Dr Chuck Pearson
Movement Memoirs
Moments, Meaning and Motives
A Publication of Critical Resistance
Leaving Evidence
a blog by Mia Mingus
antiableistcomposition.wordpress.com/
Risa Denenberg

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaCommonCrawl


In small bowl, stir together butter, minced green onion, minced parsley, salt and garlic until well-combined. Form into a log shape, wrap in plastic wrap, and refrigerate 1 hour or until ready to serve.
Preheat broiler to high. Position rack 6" below heat source.
Sprinkle steaks evenly with salt and pepper on both sides; place on broiler pan. Place vegetables around steaks. Broil 3 minutes. Turn steaks over; broil 5 minutes longer, or until steaks reach desired degree of doneness.
Slice herb butter into 4 equal portions. Place one piece butter on each steak; tent with foil and let rest 5 minutes before serving.


text:
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redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaGithub


text:
Mayor Adam West
TV Feature: HollywoodChicago.com on Three Parts of Adam West
Submitted by PatrickMcD on June 15, 2017 - 1:38pm
Burt Ward
Conan O'Brien
Jon Lennon Espino
Spike Walters
CHICAGO – As they say about Adam West's interpretation of Batman, "he hit so hard, that words describing the impact appeared out of thin air." But there was more to him than just the superhero tights, as Patrick McDonald, Spike Walters and Jon Espino of HollywoodChicago.com remember the three main characters in the career of Adam West, who passed away last week.


text:
McCarrick's Crimes Are "Private Matters" According to Pope's Advisor
Cardinal Maradiaga, one of the closest pope's confidants, says after being heavily criticized after the revelations, he has received "death threats".
(Rome) As far as Pope's confidant Cardinal Maradiaga, Archbishop of Tegucigalpa and coordinator of the C9 Cardinal's Council is concerned, ex-Cardinal Theodore McCarrick's crimes committed under canon law are a "private matter" and an "administrative issue".
Cardinal Oscar Rodriguez Maradiaga is one of the busiest figures in the current pontificate, earning him the nickname "vice-pope". Indeed, the Primate of Honduras and former President of Caritas Internationalis is said to have ambitions after Francis' succession.
Religion Digital, the main progressive news portal in the Spanish-speaking world, published an interview with the Cardinal, which sounded a bit different in tone than he has recently.
Aberro-lobby in the Vatican a media fantasy
In January 2016, in an interview with the daily newspaper El Heraldo de Honduras, he confirmed the existence of a "gay lobby in the Vatican" that puts "pressure" on Church leadership to make decisions in their favor. Among other things, Maradiaga said at the time:
El Heraldo: Was there an infiltration of the gay community into the Vatican or a similar attempt?
Cardinal Maradiaga: Not only that, the Holy Father himself has said that there is a "lobby" in that sense. The Holy Father is slowly trying to clean it up. These are things ... you understand and there are actions to serve them pastorally, but what is wrong can not be true.
Now he is saying:
"The gay lobby in the Vatican is something that exists more in the printing ink of the media than in reality."
Cardinal Maradiaga
Cardinal Maradiaga: Papal critics have "no faith"
The comment was based on the former apostolic nuncio, Archbishop Carlo Maria Viganò, who in his famous dossier, published on the 26th of August, lists Cardinal Maradiaga as one of the ex-Cardinal McCarrick's patrons. The former Vatican top diplomat, sneered Maradiaga ironically, should know himself that the "gay lobby in the Vatican" is above all a media fantasy.
In general, the interview surprised by its non-answers, which in turn and in their way, nevertheless, also gave information.
The cardinal was specifically addressed on the Viganò dossier and the McCarrick case:
Religion Digital: The Viganò dossier accuses the Pope of covering up Cardinal McCarrick's homosexual relationships with seminarians and calls for his resignation. What do you think about this?
Cardinal Maradiaga: Making a private issue into a bomb that explodes in the world and whose splinters violate many people's beliefs does not seem right to me. I think that a management question should be spread on calmer and more objective criteria, and not with a load of bitter expressions. I think that Msgr. Viganò, whom I knew, is not the same person who writes and says these things.
Religon Digital: If it is true that Viganò informed the Pope, then why did not Francis act?
Cardinal Maradiaga: Actually, I do not know to what extent the Holy Father acted or not. This is an issue beyond my knowledge and competence. I believe that the Pope is a man of God who always acts with faith and wisdom.
Maradiaga's thesis: All is just a conspiracy against Francis
Already in the past, the Honduran cardinal had complained of a conspiracy against Pope Francis. It's an allegation in which he repeatedly linked criticism against him with criticism of Francis, and was a victim of Franciscan critics who would attack him to actually hit Francis. Religion Digital has no problem picking up on this thesis and accentuating it.
Religion Digital: Is the Viganò dossier part of a conspiracy of the extreme right in the US that does not accept the Magisterium of Francis?
Cardinal Maradiaga: From the first moment one could perceive that there has been a reaction against Pope Francis, who wants to interfere with his teaching. Tensions are inevitable in the face of diversity, but to seek the truth and love the Church is a duty for all, especially when acting out of faith. Accepting or not accepting the person of the Pope does not come from the secular optics of sympathy and antipathy, but from that of the faith. When faith is lacking, the foundation is missing.
It is also not new that Cardinal Maradiaga, without responding directly to the criticism, denies that critics of the administration of Pope Francis have faith.
Homosexuality and priesthood
Religion Digital: Is there a gay lobby in the Vatican?
Cardinal Maradiaga: I have the impression that the idea of a gay lobby in the Vatican is disproportionate. This is something that exists more in the printing ink of newspapers than in reality. It is obvious to me that the purpose of all these expressions, charged with poison and slander, is to strike the Holy Father. But if they have no faith, the actors of this media circus will not give up their lies.
Religion Digital then wanted to get from the pope's confidant an answer to a question that has become particularly explosive and topical in the context of recent scandals. However, the cardinal owes a clear answer to a clear question. Most readers of Religion Digital and probably most of the faithful can not do anything with his answer. The non-Catholics, certainly not.
Religion Digital: Can a homosexual who has achieved a clear psychological and sexual maturity become a priest?
Cardinal Maradiaga: All Bishops' Conferences in all countries of the world are aware of the absolute and apodictic principles of the Church, such as those set forth in Ratio Fundamentalis Institutionis Sacerdotalis.
The progressive medium was satisfied with that. Inquiries were waived.
Religion Digital: Did Cardinal McCarrick support the election of Francis, and did the Pope feel indebted to the North American Cardinal?
Cardinal Maradiaga: First and foremost, one has to understand the ultimate significance of this assertion in the case of Msgr. Viganò. It seems to me baseless. He was not in the conclave. I honestly do not believe it.
But that's not all.
"Hitman" and "death threats"
Two days after Religion Digital, the Italian daily Il Giornale also published an article with a sensational headline citing a conversation with Cardinal Maradiaga:
"The war in the Church does not know a truce: 'Eminence, if you speak, we'll kill'"
The author is Fabio Marchese Ragona, a journalist who has maintained close contacts with the Cardinal for many years. The subject is alleged death threats against the Honduran Cardinal..
"After the allegations and attacks of the past months, also through the dossier of Msgr. Carlo Maria Viganò, which targets the Pope and other cardinals, one of Francis' closest associates received anonymous phone calls, in Spanish, with serious death threats: If he publicly opposes those who accuse him, he will be dead."
While Cardinal Maradiaga, in an interview with Religion Digital, reneged on all his critics and those of Pope Francis, in an interview with Il Giornale he tries to give the impression that all his critics are threatening him with death.
Already on August 29, he had in an interview, described the Vaticanist Edward Pentin (EWTN, National Catholic Register) as a "hitman." With several revelations published last spring, Pentin, a reputable professional journalist, had weighed in heavily on the Cardinal.
Allegations scratch the papabile image
But it is not only Pentin's revelations that scratch the papabile image of the archbishop of Tegucigalpa. A few days ago, a priest raised new charges, which according to Maradiaga's own account, was suspended without stating a reason and without any possibility of defending himself. The priest is the native Spaniard Bernardo Font, who addressed Pope Francis in July with an open letter.
Like ambassador widow Martha Reichmann Valladares, he feels cheated by Maradiaga.
Recently, the cardinal denounced the social networks he accuses of spreading criticism against him as "fecal networks." With respect to Il Giornale, he now more or less stated that any criticism of his person was a form of murder threat.
Observers doubt that such a defense strategy can last long, but above all that it helps Pope Francis.
They defended Maradiaga in the end of January and declared the then criticism of the cardinal for settled. But the criticism did not stop, and new revelations were added, so that in July Maradiaga had to sacrifice his right hand, Auxiliary Bishop Juan Jose Pineda, in order to keep himself. Pineda's departure, in turn, has a lot to do with homosexuality and the question of whether or not homosexuals can and should become priests, which Maradiaga answered only very evasively.
Image: Il Giornale / Religion Digital (Screenshots)
Labels: Aberrosexual Mafia, Cardinal Maradiaga, Cardinal McCarrick, Edward Pentin
If this isn't one of the most blatant examples of 'clericalism' on Cardinal Maradiaga's (and others') part, I don't know what is. Trying to cover up the gross misdeeds of clerics by clericalism, then blaming clericalism for the backlash the misdeeds have caused. How convoluted can you get?
Do they not have any sense of their own stupidity and total loss of credibility?
Maradiaga has "further ambition" after Francis. That would finish off the Church as a viable entity. Recent action with China show a grave possibility of merging with the Chinese government. That would tie together an Anti Christ and a false prophet.


Castle in the Air: Bellissima. Bellissima.
Although we only had one day in Perugia, Mariaelisa Leboroni helped my family feel like natives and royalty all at once when we went to visit her there. Mariaelisa is the woodblock artist behind the Xilocart line of books and prints we sell at Castle in the Air. She makes her creations out of her magical studio in Perugia, the capital of Italy's Umbria region and a city known for its artists.
Between feeding us so much delicious home-cooked food and introducing us to her family, Mariaelisa showed us her studio, where she's got the product of forty years of printing arranged among shelves, tables, and crates. She surprised and delighted me when, after showing us the blocks she used to print her own set of tarot cards, Mariaelisa handed me one of her few remaining copies of the deck!
She drove us all on a high-speed tour through the streets of the town, ending up outside the Church of San Pietro. The church was already closed, but Mariaelisa talked our way in. We were the only ones inside the nave, and when we looked up at the ceiling and took in the gorgeous inlaid wood ceiling, none of us summed it up like Mariaelisa: "Bellissima. Bellissima."
Oh How wonderfully amazing, and what an incredible gift to be given!!
My father's parents were from Italy and we traveled quite a bit in country while my father was stationed in Germany for the Army. I loved going, and I never got tired of all the places Mum would want us to go see!! How lucky your girls are!!


text:
Pa. governor's race: And the winner is Tom Wolf
Updated: Nov. 05, 2014, 1:35 a.m. |
Jan Murphy | jmurphy@pennlive.com
Democrat Tom Wolf pulled off a historic win on Tuesday beating GOP incumbent Gov. Tom Corbett in the most expensive gubernatorial race in Pennsylvania history, according to the Associated Press.
AP called the race at 8:34 p.m., although several national media outlets reported Wolf was the winner as soon as the polls closed.
Wolf, 65, of Mount Wolf, York County, becomes the first person in 44 years since the state allowed governors to serve two consecutive terms, to turn out a sitting governor. Also come Jan. 20, he will be the first central Pennsylvanian to occupy the governor's office since Gov. George Leader left it 55 years ago.
For more live coverage from Wolf's victory party in York and Corbett's election night gathering in Pittsburgh, check back to PennLive.


After the dating news of SNSD's Taeyeon and EXO's Baekhyun spreading so fast, fans left with hurtful and disappointed feeling towards their idol. Taeyeon initially posted an apologize letter on her instagram as it is the one which she can communicate with her fans.
The anger from fans seemed because of once EXO's Baekhyun stated that "It's not the time to date yet" and his plan to date in his 30's.


Aloe Vera is known throughout the world as one of the most effective beauty and health remedies. Used in many products for your skin, hair and overall health, it's a great healing ingredient with antibacterial qualities.
From moisturasing creams to supplements and green juices, aloe vera has found a solid place in our everyday lifes. This happened for a good reason, of course. And not one but many reasons – the multiple health-improving qualities of aloe vera and its ability to heal our body.
Take a look at the infographic to learn more about aloe vera and its benefits!


text:
Consero Press Article
Consero Named Partner of the Year for Third Consecutive Year by Global Business Technology Leader, Sage Intacct
AUSTIN, Texas, March 11, 2020 – Consero Global LLC, a leader in Finance as a Service, has received Partner of the Year distinction from Sage Intacct, the global market leader in cloud business management solutions, for the third year in a row. Sage Intacct's award recognizes Consero, as a channel partner, for its unmatched customer satisfaction, significant year-over-year growth and extraordinary sales success.
"We appreciate the award and the recognition of our 138 percent revenue growth in fiscal year 2019, which we have achieved by focusing on larger engagements with mid-market organizations," said Scott Tynes, CEO, Consero Global. "These are the organizations that are most in need of our services. They are large enough that they need top-level accounting solutions but do not want to take on building those resources internally."
Sage's program fosters a network of partners that deliver comprehensive, high quality services, support and software to help organizations grow. "Sage and Consero share a vision of freeing business builders from the burdens of administration, accounting and reporting, so they can do what they love," said Tynes. "We are proud that we have been recognized for the satisfaction we bring customers."
This honor follows less than six months after Consero was named as the fastest growing company in Central Texas by the Austin Business Journal and named Consero to its Fast 50 list for the third time in the company's history.
Consero combines innovative integrated software, including the SIMPL financial management console and Simon voice-activated artificial intelligence technology with traditional CFO, controller and bookkeeping services. All of this comes without the time, cost and effort of creating and managing a full, in-house finance and accounting department. With Consero's services, companies of all sizes can afford Fortune 500 level financial tools.
About Consero Global:
Founded in 2006 by Scott Tynes, Bill Klein and Kiran Jagannath, Consero Global disrupts the way businesses build and maintain their finance & accounting function. Through a cloud-based platform, Consero delivers the financial clarity and efficiency needed to drive a business forward. Strategic CFOs are adopting Consero's cutting-edge, Finance as a Service model to free up time and understand how the business is performing. Serving more than 130 clients, Consero provides the control and insight needed to steer businesses toward success. Contact Consero Global for more information about gaining greater control of your financial operations. www.conseroglobal.com
PrevPreviousConsero Global LLC Named the Fastest Growing Financial Consulting Firm in Central Texas
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With Consero's Finance as a Service, you gain financial clarity, operational efficiency, and the power to scale, effortlessly.


text:
Kroog ist ein Siedlungsgebiet im Südosten von Kiel. Kroog ist offiziell kein eigener Stadtteil, sondern gehört zu Elmschenhagen, der Stadtbezirk heißt Elmschenhagen/Kroog. Kroog wird trotz seiner Zugehörigkeit zu Elmschenhagen von vielen, besonders von älteren Einwohnern jedoch als ein eigener Stadtteil betrachtet. Seine Bebauung ist vor allem durch Einfamilienhäuser geprägt.

Im Südwesten grenzt Kroog an den Stadtteil Rönne und im Osten an die Stadt Schwentinental. Im Westen befindet sich der Wellsee. Zum Osten und zum Süden hin wird Kroog vom Klosterforst Preetz umschlossen.

Geschichte
Das Walddorf Kroog – damalige Schreibweise Croch – wird 1286 erstmals urkundlich im Bocholtschen Register des Klosters Preetz genannt: Das von Propst Konrad Bocholt veranlasste Register enthält die Namen der Pröpste und eine Liste der zur Grund- und Gerichtsherrschaft des Klosters gehörenden Dörfer und deren Abgaben. In dem Register heißt es, dass Kroog zu Abgaben von 9 Mark, Naturalien von 15 Topf Leinen und 21 Hühnern sowie von zwei Tagen wöchentlichen Dienstleistungen an das Kloster verpflichtet sei. Im Gegensatz zu anderen Dörfern wird jedoch im Register keine Einwohnerzahl angegeben. Das lässt darauf schließen, dass Croch zu dieser Zeit nur ein einzelner Hof war. Vermutlich wurde er von Nonnen des Klosters Preetz bewirtschaftet. Es gab weitere derartige Gutshöfe in der Gegend, über die jedoch bis auf den Namen heute nicht mehr viel bekannt ist.

Man fand jedoch Reste eines Dorfes an der Stelle des heutigen Kroogs. Unter anderem muss es in der Ortschaft eine Ziegelei gegeben haben. In späteren Aufzeichnungen wurde Kroog als Hof Kroog oder Hof to dem Kroghe bezeichnet. 1895 hatte der Ort Kroog 52 Einwohner.

Die heutige Siedlung Kroog wurde 1913 gegründet. Damals wollte August Witt, Besitzer des Hofes Kroog, einen Teil seiner Ländereien als Industriegebiet verkaufen. Er fand jedoch keine Interessenten. Der Architekt Fritz Kröger und der Städteplaner Albin Huß entwickelten stattdessen im Jahr 1913 den Plan für eine Villenkolonie. Am 14. August 1913 wurde der entsprechende Vertrag unterschrieben. Am 4. April 1914 folgte die Grundsteinlegung für die neue Siedlung. Von 1919 bis 1953 konnte die Genossenschaft Landhausansiedlung Kroog rund 350 Wohnhäuser errichten.

Nachdem das Parlament unter Reichskanzler Heinrich Brüning die Dritte Notverordnung vom 6. Oktober 1931 verabschiedete, die Arbeitslosen erlaubte, sich ein eigenes Haus zu bauen, entstanden dadurch ab 1933 auch in Kroog neue Häuser. Auch in den 1950er-Jahren wurde in Kroog gebaut. In den 1980er-Jahren entstand das Neubaugebiet um die Bushaltestelle Am Wellsee.

Wasserturm
Im Jahr 1919 errichtete die Krooger Baugenossenschaft in der Straße Plötzen ein Wasserwerk, das aus einem Brunnen, einer Windturbinenanlage und einem Wasserbehälter bestand. Wegen häufiger Sturmschäden wurde der Wasserbehälter nach 1920 mit einem Turm geschützt. Der Wasserturm entwickelte sich zum Wahrzeichen der Siedlung Kroog –, er musste nach 1972 wegen Baufälligkeit abgerissen werden.

Kirche
Auf einem Sandhügel in der Sonthofener Straße wurde in den Jahren von 1960 bis 1962 im Stil einer Basilika die Stephanuskirche erbaut und am 4. Advent 1962 geweiht. Die Entwurfspläne stammten von den Künstlern Heinrich Basedow und Willi Langbein. Die Bauausführung hatte der Architekt Ernst Mackh übernommen. Die Kirche gehört zur evangelisch-lutherischen Trinitatisgemeinde.

Literatur
 Robert Möller: Unser Kroog. Vom Walddorf zum Stadtteil. Dannenberg'scher Verlag, Plön o. J. (1986).
 Doris Tillmann, Johannes Rosenplänter (Hrsg.): Kiel-Lexikon. Wachholtz, Neumünster 2011, ISBN 978-3-529-02556-3, Lemma Kroog.

Weblinks

 Kiel-Wiki: Kroog.

Einzelnachweise

Ort in der kreisfreien Stadt Kiel

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaWikipedia