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    Spring backward. #photoaday #flowerstagram #firstdayofspring #spring #lastofwinter ❄️❤️ So yesterday, I ran a poetry workshop at a middle school and hearing the words from these youth, I feel a lot better about the world. One boy wrote a poem & was very shy about reading it. I offered to read it for him. To my surprise, he wrote about people wanting freedom and not being “illegal.” I hope he finds the courage some day to read the poem because these days, hate voices itself louder than love. Our kids deserve better role models. I didn’t grow up thinking about my immigration status, but I think many children have to now. 💔I’m at a very low point in my hope bank. I’m taking notes on how to say goodbye to a country. I think one way is love and one way is poetry.
#loveislouder #happyworldpoetryday This Sunday I made it to church at a Unitarian Universalist congregation. I arrived as a panelist for an immigration and human rights discussion. My audience was majority White. I started with a poem and then my college journey narrative. It is a heavy feeling to be a person who potentially faces deportation or undocumented status and to stand in front of an audience that though sympathetic, cannot imagine what your world is like. They listened to me and the other panelists very actively. One of the panelists, Klara Bilgin, showed us this poster-size cover of Time magazine’s March issue with her own addition “Why America?” At the end I was surprised that most people had comments rather than questions. When we say immigration is a controversial issue or a “hot topic,” it’s true. I got to see it today by people commenting on their experience traveling abroad without borders or their observations of how much labor is expected of undocumented immigrants. Many of them were proposing solutions. I wish Congress were as productive as these people were in their 15 or so minutes to comment and ask questions. #rageatCongress #votesmart #speakup Little sister poem. Be woke.❤️ #ajamonet #poem
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1,000 miles: step 70


We dipped into penguin-friendly weather this week. On Monday, my advanced composition class sat attentive to class, and I glanced over to the soft snow outside the window. A classmate later makes an announcement, “classes at and after 4:30 are cancelled.” At which point, I get a high five from my classwork partner, and one more high five from my desk buddy as we all leave class, not wasting precious time.

Snow and days off complement.

As a result, I was able to gain much needed “extra” time. I caught up on work and sleep. Earlier this afternoon, I even ventured to cook fish. Since mid-January, I’ve restricted myself to seafood (though I’ve broken the rules twice).

Though cooking fish is supposed to be ever so easy, I failed miserably with my first try: too much condiment: pepper, pepper, pepper, and cooking without oil wasn’t working for me. Mom makes it work somehow. My second try involved oil, and was better, and the fish… tasted, until I dropped it on the floor. I felt intensely hopeless. My third try was just OK, and I decided that was the end of that.

I’m much more successful at noticing pretty skies and reading stories. I have much to learn about the practical world.

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