Writers’ Day in the City

Writers need time and stimulation to create. A couple of years ago, our writers group decided to host our own writers retreat. A weekend to go somewhere away from family obligations and routines and write - together and alone, learn from each other, take ourselves seriously. After two years of going to Carolyn’s former step-mother’s beautiful house in the country, we decided to have a day in the city instead. The city being Austin, Texas. We chose four stops and each of us took on the task of creating a writing invitation. 

First stop: Thunderbird Coffee - Esmer had four idea-generating prompts. We took one, wrote our list for one minute and then passed it to the next person. Then we picked one thing from any of the four lists, or something totally different, and wrote for five minutes. The four prompts were:

• Words that remind you of inner power 
• Poem titles
• Memories you would like to download
• Places you have never been

12:01 A.M

Nothing good happens

After midnight

My grandmother always said

The police came knocking on her door

After midnight

With news of a car crash

Driver had been drinking

After midnight

Probably started before

Passenger wasn’t wearing a seatbelt

After midnight

Didn’t have a chance

The driver was

But this time, it wasn’t enough

The tree was too mighty and big

After midnight

The agony of a mother’s loss

The cry of a mother’s pain

Was overpowering and all encompassing

Like the night

After midnight

-Esmeralda

Our next stop was the independent bookstore Black Pearl Books. We did not realize that it is housed in the same location as the wonderful organization Ten Thousand Villages, a shop where artisans from around the world can sell their products at fair prices. Of course, we had to look around! 

Andrea’s invitation for us was to write down the titles of ten books, from any genre. Later we used the words in the titles to generate some writing.

There's a Revolution Outside, My Love.     

There's a Revolution Outside, My Love

We Do This 'Till We Free Us

till A Chorus Rises

till we tase The Sweetness of Water

till we see The Evidence of Things Not Seen

in The Anthropocene Reviewed

differences between us - 

Almost Zero

we Come in All Colors

Life's too Short, Gilded Ones

                -Susan

After lunch we headed to the Blanton Museum. Although Susan had some way for us to be inspired by the artwork in all of Blanton’s galleries, we only had time to visit Black Is Beautiful: The Photography of Kwame Brathwaite. We chose one of the pieces to imagine a conversation, either with us or between the subjects in the photos. 

You see me, you see you.

How you see me is how you’ll see you.

My eyes are your eyes.

My hair is your hair.

You see it?

This nose, yours.  

These lips, ours.

I am you and you are me. 

Remember that when you look into 

the eyes, the mind, the heart, the soul, the story 

of somebody who looks like me, looks like you.

If you can see me, you can see you.

And if you can see us, then it won’t matter if they can see us.

See us just as we are

Black. Is. Beautiful

-Andrea

     

 .   

Public school, Harlem, 1966

Males: We are looking to our future, away from our past. We are strong, we are confident in our worth as people, whether others are or not. We are determined not to depend on others to set our own worth or value. We are standing on the foundation those before us have worked so hard to lay down.

Females: We try to look confident and strong, but we are not completely sure who we are in this day and age. We want to stand proud and BE somebody, but we are also products of a society that judges our worth as females in a certain way - a way that doesn’t encourage personal strength or intellectual achievement. Even more, a society that holds black women to another place entirely. How do we navigate the conflicting demands of this modern age: being proud, free, confident, self-reliant, while also avoiding the clutches of the past with its diametrically opposite expectations?

                                                                                                                -Carolyn

Listen!

You ask me

Why am I behind a camera.

Not in front of a march,

Or at a counter,

Or on a bus.

My weapon is my art.

My weapon is my eye.

Through my eye

You will see beauty, 

you will love that beauty

    You will love the skin that wears it

And the heart that beats underneath it

You will love the beauty that is 

Black.

                            -Susan 

We ran out of time and didn’t get to see what Carolyn had planned for us at the Austin Public Library. But no worries! That’s the subject of next month’s post. 

Writing needs time and stimulation to grow. Anything can serve as stimulation - the plants in your house, your children, the sounds outside the window, even the dirty dishes. But time, we must steal time if we have to, even if it's just a few minutes, to make something of our words. 

Twelve Blog Posts of Andrea (#1)

(ONE)
My one writing goal for 2020 is to publish on this blog once per month.  Today is the last day of the first month of the new year.  Better late than never is what they say. 

Actually my goal is to be the kind of person who writes for other people, not just for myself, this year.  I do not have a desire to publish a book, to write professionally or even to be known as such.  I do want to be the kind of writer who writes everyday, who uses her writing to make a mark in her world, who writes for posterity and to sort out what I know to be true and what I am still learning.  I do writerly things like capture my thoughts and reactions to the world.  I put my bum in a chair, and I make myself write.  I keep a notebook and have the notes app on my phone organized so that I can quickly and easily find the writing ideas I collect as I live.  Yet, I show up here, and I am without anything meaningful to share with you.  I try to be a woman of my word.  I am just going to write until something worthwhile comes out.  Writing is that way.  If you stay with it long enough, something usually materializes. 

I cannot figure out what's going on with me lately when it comes to writing for myself in way that allows me to have something to share with the world.  The hypocrisy of the thing is that we ask students to do it every.single.day.  This is how I came to write for this blog.  I wanted to be a real teacher of writing by living the life I asked my students to live in the classroom.  At least once per marking period, we require them to share some narrative, essay or poetry with the world.  We ask them to write with feeling and thoughtfulness.  We ask them to open up their hearts or their minds and let the rest of us look inside.  And you know what, most of the time, the kids find something meaningful to share.  So what's my problem.  I've got lots of stories.  I know this is true because I talk my husband's ear off sometimes sharing them.  I have many, many opinions about many, many topics.  Name a topic.  I am certain I have a thought or at the very least a question.  For example, while watching a movie or television I have to literally remind myself to stay focused on the task at hand because my curiosity will get piqued by something a character mentions then I am off running down the Google rabbit-hole asking questions and seeking answers...

This is as far as I got on 1/31/20.  In six short weeks later, the bottom fell out of 2020, and so did my goal of publishing 12 blog posts. It is now December 26, and I've got five days to fulfill my goal.  "Why, given the year we have had?" Because I said I would.  Here's to (ONE) down.  Only eleven to go.

-Andrea

New Year, New Books: Reading List 2019

New Year, New Books

Reading List for 2019

I am constantly adding books I would like to read to my Pinterest board, or to my Notes app on my phone.  Coming up with books I would like to read for this 2019 was not difficult. The hard part was narrowing down my selection to twelve.  I figure I can comfortably get through a book a month (hoping for more since I have a back up list ready to go if I do complete my twelve) with all the other “have to do’s” that come up.  

Here is my reading list for the new year in no particular order.  

I Owe You One by Sophie Kinsella ---Sophie Kinsella is one of my favorite authors.  Her writing is witty and funny! I’ve read all of her books, and I am excited to add another one to my reading arsenal.

“Fixie Farr saves an investment manager’s laptop from being destroyed, meaning he owes her a favor. She cashes in to get her friend a job—all while Fixie and investment hottie Sebastian’s relationship begins to evolve.” (Amazon)

 Next Year in Havana by Chanel Cleeton

“After the death of her beloved grandmother, a Cuban-American woman travels to Havana, where she discovers the roots of her identity–and unearths a family secret hidden since the revolution.” (Amazon)

Surprise Me by Sophie Kinsella-- Here she is again on my list.  I saw it and had to add.

“A story about a married couple who is told they will have 68 more years together, after being married for 10 years, and they panic wondering how they will keep their marriage fresh so they concoct a plan Operation Surprise Me to keep things from becoming boring.” (Amazon)

The Beginning Place by Ursula K. Le Guin--This will probably be my first book of the year.  A friend of mine gave it to me as a gift, and I am looking forward to diving in.

“Irena Pannis was thirteen when she first found the beginning place. Now, seven years later, she has grown to know and love the gentle inhabitants of Tembreabrezi, or Mountaintown, and she sees Hugh as a trespasser.

But then a monstrous shadow threatens to destroy Mountaintown, and Hugh and Irena join forces to seek it out. Along the way, they begin to fall in love. Are they on their way to a new beginning...or a fateful end?” (Amazon)

Save The Date by Morgan Matson--This looks like a fun drama-filled family novel when the main character’s family is all coming together under the same roof for her older sister’s wedding and everything seems to be going wrong.

“Charlie Grant’s older sister is getting married this weekend at their family home, and Charlie can’t wait—for the first time in years, all four of her older siblings will be under one roof. Charlie is desperate for one last perfect weekend, before the house is sold and everything changes. The house will be filled with jokes and games and laughs again. Making decisions about things like what college to attend and reuniting with longstanding crush Jesse Foster—all that can wait. She wants to focus on making the weekend perfect.  The only problem? The weekend is shaping up to be an absolute disaster.” (Amazon)

6.  Small Great things: Jodi Picoult---A good friend of mine has read every Jodi Picoult book and has said nothing but great things about them. I have read one or two, but would like to make my way down that author list as well.

“Ruth Jefferson is a labor and delivery nurse at a Connecticut hospital with more than twenty years’ experience. During her shift, Ruth begins a routine checkup on a newborn, only to be told a few minutes later that she’s been reassigned to another patient. The parents are white supremacists and don’t want Ruth, who is African American, to touch their child. The hospital complies with their request, but the next day, the baby goes into cardiac distress while Ruth is alone in the nursery. Does she obey orders or does she intervene?” (Amazon)

Girl wash your face Rachel Hollis-- I have this book.  I’ve had this book for a while.  I have read chapter one. It’s not that I don’t like the content or the writing.  The first chapter was great and very relatable. At the end of the day, when I lay down to read, I tend to grab a fiction story where I can escape the stressors of the day behind me.  I don’t typically pick up “self-help” books. I do, however, think this book is more than that. It’s more of a conversation with a friend. One I intend to finish this year.

“As the founder of the lifestyle website TheChicSite.com and CEO of her own media company, Rachel Hollis developed an immense online community by sharing tips for better living while fearlessly revealing the messiness of her own life. Now, in this challenging and inspiring new book, Rachel exposes the twenty lies and misconceptions that too often hold us back from living joyfully and productively, lies we’ve told ourselves so often we don’t even hear them anymore.” (Amazon)

Letters to my daughter by Maya Angelou---  Maya Angelou.  Need I say more.

NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER • “Maya Angelou shares her path to living well and with meaning in this absorbing book of personal essays.  Here in short spellbinding essays are glimpses of the tumultuous life that led Angelou to an exalted place in American letters and taught her lessons in compassion and fortitude: how she was brought up by her indomitable grandmother in segregated Arkansas, taken in at thirteen by her more worldly and less religious mother, and grew to be an awkward, six-foot-tall teenager whose first experience of loveless sex paradoxically left her with her greatest gift, a son.”

Watching You by Lisa Jewell-- I was a fan of Gone Girl and Girl on the Train.  I read this one had the same page turning, mind blowing capabilities.

“Tom Fitzwilliam is beloved by one and all—including Joey Mullen, his new neighbor, who quickly develops an intense infatuation with this thoroughly charming yet unavailable man. Joey thinks her crush is a secret, but Tom’s teenaged son Freddie—a prodigy with aspirations of becoming a spy for MI5—excels in observing people and has witnessed Joey behaving strangely around his father.  One of Tom’s students, Jenna Tripp, also lives on the same street, and she’s not convinced her teacher is as squeaky clean as he seems. For one thing, he has taken a particular liking to her best friend and fellow classmate, and Jenna’s mother—whose mental health has admittedly been deteriorating in recent years—is convinced that Mr. Fitzwilliam is stalking her.” (Amazon)

The Lost Girls by Heather Young---Lots of twists and turns, with the past colliding with the future.

“A stunning debut novel that examines the price of loyalty, the burden of regret, the meaning of salvation, and the sacrifices we make for those we love, told in the voices of two unforgettable women linked by a decades-old family mystery at a picturesque lake house.  In 1935, six-year-old Emily Evans vanishes from her family’s vacation home on a remote Minnesota lake. Her disappearance destroys the family—her father commits suicide, and her mother and two older sisters spend the rest of their lives at the lake house, keeping a decades-long vigil for the lost child.   Sixty years later, Lucy, the quiet and watchful middle sister, lives in the lake house alone. Before her death, she writes the story of that devastating summer in a notebook that she leaves, along with the house, to the only person who might care: her grandniece, Justine.” (Amazon)

The Unbecoming of Mara Dyer by Michelle Hodkin -- Lately I have been really into psychological thrillers.  It could possibly be all the Lifetime movies I tend to watch, so this one was right up that alley.

“If you like darker, more intense novels, then you’ll love this psychological thriller. Mara Dyer can’t remember anything that happened the night of the accident that killed her best friends. Even after starting a new school and befriending the sexy, confident Noah Shaw, Mara’s sinister experiences, nightmares, and dark hallucinations continue to unfold in a breath of chilling twists. It’s an enticing read that’s sure to have you up all night.” (Amazon)

Shiver by Maggie Stiefvater--This one sounded like a tender story, even if it is about a wolf boy.  I’m a sucker for fighting for the one you love.

“For years, Grace has watched the wolves in the woods behind her house. One yellow-eyed wolf—her wolf—is a chilling presence she can't seem to live without.  Meanwhile, Sam has lived two lives: In winter, the frozen woods, the protection of the pack, and the silent company of a fearless girl. In summer, a few precious months of being human… until the cold makes him shift back again. Now, Grace meets a yellow-eyed boy whose familiarity takes her breath away. It's her wolf. It has to be. But as winter nears, Sam must fight to stay human—or risk losing himself, and Grace, forever.” (Goodreads)

Happy Reading!!! ~Esmeralda

Introducing Me in ABCs -Part 1

A

A woman

A mother

A person

A me

A…which means one.  I am unique and it is ok to admit that.  It isn’t conceited or against the rules.  There is only one of me and there is only one of you.  

Books

I have my own library.  A wall full of books.  Children’s books, self-help books. Books I have read several times, and books I aspire to read.  I love books.  I’m hoping to one day see my name on the spine of a book in my library.

Cha cha

A nickname.  My nickname.  That just so happened to become my actual name for the majority of my early educational years.   The paperwork to be filled out was pretty straightforward. 

“Child’s first name-Esmeralda”

“Middle name”- left blank because I have no middle name, which always left me feeling slightly inadequate and incomplete.

“Last name-Villa”

Easy enough.  Then came the next question…

“Does your child go by another name?” 

Well, yes.  As a matter of fact I did.  
When I was born, my grandmother used to take care of my cousins and I.  My mom and dad were still in college, and luckily my grandmother made herself available to watch us.  I would go down for a nap, and my grandmother would tell my two cousins, who were slightly older to let the baby sleep.  Let the “muchachita,” little girl, sleep.  My cousins being little didn’t quite get the muchachita part all the way out, so it was shortened to chachita.  Which ended up being Cha cha, and it ended up on the little line as my mom registered me for kindergarten as the other name I happen to go by.  Quite a lot easier to say and spell than Esmeralda, so this became my name throughout elementary and all through my junior year in high school.   My friends from Colorado actually still refer to me as Cha cha.

Coffee

I drink coffee.  I love it.  It doesn’t have to be Starbucks contrary to the beliefs of many. (Although I do prefer my skinny vanilla latte)  I take my sips slow and steady.  Savoring every little drop.  When my cup is empty I am actually sad.  Like an actual feeling of sadness courses through my body.  Its more than just a little pick me up.   It’s soothing and calming.  It’s conversation around my grandmother’s table with the most exceptional women I know.  It’s stories, and history.  It’s love. 

Daniel

“So there is this boy, he kind of stole my heart.  He calls me mom.”  Kind of is an understatement.  From the moment he was born, my heart has been on my sleeve.  I am so proud of the young man he is becoming.  I love our conversations, and his hugs.  He will always be my baby, even though he is taller than me now.

Esmeralda

I become Esmeralda again when I moved to Texas.  My family and I moved the summer before my senior year in high school.  I was excited and nervous.  I knew things would be different starting high school my senior year as the new girl.  I also knew I did not want to be Cha cha in Texas.  I wanted to use my actual name.  The name I would write on my papers, and the name I would use to introduce myself would be my name, not a nickname.

Food

I like to eat.  I love food.   Not sure what else there is to say but that.

God

God is good.  All the time.

All the time.  God is good.

I could not make it through my day without Him.

Hernandez Women

I have always said that if I ever have any doubt of God’s love for me, I need only to look at the family I was blessed enough to be born into.   I have been loved by seven of the most giving and precious women.  My grandmother, mother, and five aunts.  I cannot describe how influential they have been for me, or begin to express all the gratitude and love I have for them.  I admire and respect each one.  They are by far the strongest, most God-fearing women I know.

~Esmeralda

My Chaos, A Gift

Think, think, and think. …What to write about?…. It’s my turn to post, and I have nothing.  My writing successors and partners, have set the bar so high, I’m going to need some sort of winged transport to even get close to their quality of writing.  It doesn’t help that my mind is a black hole, and my words are getting sucked in with no hope of surviving.  My preverbal plate is full, which could have something to do with the fact that my brain is mush.  It’s been a rough week.  Running around to and fro with my kids, chauffeuring them from this activity to the next.  Feeling guilty for not planning ahead the healthy meal they should be eating, but instead having Burger King in their bellies. 

Excuse after excuse.  I tell my self tomorrow will be better.  I will wake up earlier. I will plan my meals on Sunday, and have everything precut and packaged in little baggies like the good moms do on Pinterest.  Problem is, in order to get up earlier; you need to go to bed early.  By the time we get home from soccer practice, its bath, read, bed, and many times I fall asleep without wanting to.  Which then of course leaves dirty dishes in my sink, and streaks on my tile floor.  And don’t even get me started on grocery shopping.  This particular chore to me is like getting a cavity filled.  But grocery shopping on a Sunday is like getting a cavity filled, plus wisdom teeth removed, and blood drawn all at the same time.  Painful right?  That’s exactly what I think about getting my much-needed ingredients for a healthy week of meals on a Sunday afternoon. 

I fail time and time again.  But…..I keep going.  I keep trying, and I keep failing at being perfect.  That’s ok with me. Because I am a mess.  I have come to terms with that.  My mind is a mess, my schedule is a whirlwind of activities, and to be honest, my house isn’t picture perfect, inside or out.  At the end of the day, however, it’s my life.  It’s my gift.  I’m lucky to have it every morning I wake up.  The cherry on top is having the privilege to have conversations with two very important people while chauffeuring them around to the weekly soccer practice or dance performance.  Sounds perfect to me. 

~Esmeralda

In Spite of me

When people ask me about raising children, my immediate answer is:  Prayer.

I have prayed that my children would grow up to be better human beings than me; I have prayed that they would be strong enough to withstand life’s inevitable disappointments; I have prayed that they would put God before all else.  And ultimately, I have prayed that they would turn out alright in spite of me.   I realized very quickly that no matter how hard I tried to be a good mother, there was no way to get it right all the time. Over the years, it has become easier to accept that I can never be a perfect mother because this job is as much about me growing as it is about helping them to grow. 

There are however, some things that are worth passing on:

A young mother once asked my twenty-year old son what kind of a parent I was.  He responded:  She took our questions seriously.  I have written about my children and their questions before.  But it is true that I was so terrified of their intelligence that I could not risk dismissing their questions with flippant answers. (In fact I am afraid of all children and their uncanny ability to sniff hypocrisy and dishonesty. ) For the same reason I never lied to them or gave them a made up answer because I was afraid they would never trust me once they found out the truth. 

Along with taking their questions seriously, came taking their interests seriously.  We did ballet, baseball, swimming, soccer, volleyball, karate and music lessons.  I bought jewelry making kits and calligraphy sets.  I drove back and forth to art classes.  We have a room full of musical instruments.  All because they showed an interest and wanted to try something new.  I was never good at making them practice or stick with anything if they lost interest.  At one point I was accused of exposing them to too many things and that’s why they couldn’t put their fingers on their passions.  But somehow they have found their passions and I have encouraged them to pursue them. 

There is a fine balance between advocating for your child and making excuses for them.  What I have hoped is that my children can take responsibility for their own actions and choices and at the same time stand up for themselves and their beliefs.  It is not easy but it gets better with practice and learning from mistakes, both theirs and mine.

I impressed on them from early on that I was not the example of Faith they should follow.  I am a work in progress, just like them.  I made sure they knew that their relationship with God had to be a personal one.  Don’t blame God for my shortcomings!  I take full responsibility for them.  And like I said. I pray that they will lead happy, healthy lives of service, in spite of me and my shortcomings. 
-Susan