Skip to main content

Poetry Reading- Eduardo C. Corral

Last Wednesday I had the opportunity to go to a poetry reading after school. It was part of a new memorial in honor of Jake Adam York, a poet I have so much respect for. I wrote a post all about him HERE. What I didn't know but found out at the poetry reading was that Jake Adam York is the one who actually set up the Creative Writing program at my school. That's one of the biggest reasons I have stayed at my school is that program and the way that it's structured here, differently than all other campuses. How cool that this man that I respect so much is the one who made it possible?
Eduardo C. Corral
So, this was the first reading. Part of the memorial was the writer had to be writing about aspects of history or social issues. Eduardo c. Corral sure fit that bracket. He writes about borders. The Mexico America border. The borders of love. The borders of language. The borders of identity. It really reminded me a lot of my class last semester about Migration and all the struggles I got to hear about the Dream activists. His work put those struggles into beautiful language.

It was really cool hearing him read his work. He gave us background on each poem and told stories and jokes. Most of his jokes revolved around his nephew wanting to take his book to school for show and tell, or his niece telling him he wasn't whatever he said in his poems. He replied with, You can lie in poetry! Well, sort of.

He talked about how it took him nine and a half years to write his books. How as a writer, doubt never really goes away, and that's alright. As long as doubt is writing shotgun with you, but doesn't have it's hands on the wheel. That when you get into trouble.

I met a lot of new people and just talked with them. I felt reassured in my choice of major and life. This is what I love. These are the people who love it as well. I love discussing literature, words, writing with people. I may not be the most eloquent speaker or writer, especially on this blog, but that is what I truly love.

At the reading, a teacher I have for one of my honors classes was there. She didn't know I was an English major and told me I should apply for this scholarship because not a lot of people had applied. I'd heard of it but didn't meet all the requirements because of my brief thoughts that I was going to do Public Health, so I hadn't applied in the first place. She said she'd write me a note though and make an exception. It was such a great night! The girl sitting next to me was like, wow! I've never had a teacher tell me to apply for a scholarship before, that's really cool. So, I'm going to be getting everything together for that this week as well.

Go English!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Racism, stereotypes, and plain ole judging

Being in a class dedicated to the idea of migration has really kept the idea of racism on the brain. In elementary school, the idea of racism was so defined to me, thinking people are better than others based solely on the color of their skin. It wasn't until middle school after reading many books that I realized racism wasn't jut as issue of black versus white, rather it applies to all cultures. In high school I was actually shocked to here racist statements from people I loved. All the sudden this issue became personal somewhat. (My favorite statement was from a little girl who said, it should be illegal for Mexicans to have babies. I guess I can't have kids then.)  But it wasn't until last week when we did an activity in my public health class that I realized that I myself was being racist as well. Now, this is something I am not proud of. I'm very embarrassed actually and that activity was humbling. Why am I writing about this? Because, it's som...

Toxic Masculinity

It seems like forever ago that they released that Gilette ad about toxic masculinity. I watched as people I'd grown up with freaked out about it, saying that it said that men need to be like women, and that it condemned masculinity altogether, along with other things. I crafted post after post to write on my social media, but in the end didn't bother writing anything. I didn't feel like arguing with people. But I had to share my thoughts somewhere, so here they are.  To me, toxic masculinity is exactly what it says-- ideals of masculinity that are toxic. It's telling your son that he needs to suck it up and not cry. That he can get away with more than girls because 'boys will be boys.' The idea that he can't read or watch certain media because it's "for girls." At the same time, girls are asked to watch things that are "for boys" all of the time. It's the idea that men need to repress their feelings. That they can't be sc...

Little Bit o Writing Monday

The beginning of my short story for class.  When Dora's son tugged on her pants leg, the last thing she expected was to see him holding a tooth. A tooth that clearly did not belong to him. She was no dentist, but she was smart enough to know the colossal thing couldn't have come from Mark's mouth. “Mark, where did you find that?” Dora scolded. “In the backyard.” “Show me where,” Dora commanded. Excited, Mark ran out to the backyard, Dora following on his heels. He led her over to the back of the yard, to the particular corner that couldn't be seen from the kitchen window. There, her other two children were gathered around a hole in the ground. Hole was an understatement though, they'd obviously been working on this, pit, for quite sometime. If there had been no tooth, Dora would have sat the kids down and explained how digging holes this deep was dangerous because of all the water, electric, and who knows what else lines were under the ...