Poetry Project: Richard Blanco

Richard Blanco was chosen as the 2013 Inaugural poet by Barack Obama. Overnight, Richard Blanco went from a well-published individual poet to a public representative of the gay and Cuban-American community. Blanco’s inaugural poem, “One Today,” emphasizes the planet, the movement of the sun, the breath, the work, the families, and the stories of Americans to create an image of unity in diversity. But Blanco's use of poetry to create bridges between persons, cultures, geographies, and ways of being began much earlier, as revealed through ten of his poems that appeared in The Wind Shifts: New Latino Poetry (Univ. of Arizona Press 2007). I will examine three of them here--"Mother Picking Produce," "What is Not Mine," and "In Defense of Livorno." In these poems, through precise detail, naming things in clear accessible language, and honoring the simple acts of life, Blanco creates a bridge between the reader and the writer.

"Mother Picking Produce" portrays the poet's mother as she is examining fruit at the market in a poem of seven tercets and a final stanza of a single line. Each stanza ends with punctuation, creating the effect of a succession of cameo images. In the first one, the poet describes her hands interacting with the produce -- she "scratches," "presses," "polishes." He contrasts the weathered appearance of her hands in this colorful setting with photographs of slender fingers in black and white photographs, thus bridging the present and the past. The sight of his mother's hands evokes "the folklore of her childhood,"the fruits she once picked directly from a tree rather than selecting in a produce market. He portrays her ability to choose the best fruits as a "skill," suggesting the wisdom she has accumulated over time by performing such daily actions, "humble duties," "habits of living that keep a life a life." In the final image the mother holds up a cluster of grapes and asks her son what he thinks. The poet gives two answers, one as a poet and the other as a son. He thinks of "a new poem about her" and an image of the grapes as "dusty rubies in her hands." What he says is "they look sweet, very sweet." This ending suggests the gap that exists between what we think and what we say, but also the gap between poetry and direct conversation with the subject of the poem. "Mother Picking Produce" creates a bridge across this gap by including both thought and direct speech. The final line emphasizes what he says.

In "What is Not Mine," the poet addresses his absent host. The poem responds to a brief note scribbled by his host on the back of an envelope, "Please/wait for me, I'll be right back." In a single 21-line stanza of four sentences, the poet describes the interior of the empty home he has "borrowed for two days." So much here is unknown, still unexplored: "upside-down cups I haven't drunk from, stacks of plates like faces I've never met." Yet the description hints at intimacies, too: "books in rows like an audience/ that has watched us undress." But the poem remains ambiguous about his relationship with his host, even as he evokes the intimacy of sharing another's space, especially in his or her absence./ The poem ends with a pained image of the coming separation: "I must return/ to what's mine, not wanting to, but having to/ become who I was, before I was here, unsure/ of just how the bare branches can bear winter." The warmth of the silent interior is heightened by the January weather outside; in the final metaphor the poet compares himself to a tree in winter as he contemplates returning to his home.

"In Defense of Livorno" is a prose poem written in Italy in praise of an obscure town he passed through on his way to the tourist destinations of Tuscany and Pisa.

(Finished blog will contain a discussion of "In Defense of Livorno" and a conclusion that brings together the themes in these poems, reaching back to the thesis.)

Poetry Projects!

This week we're reading Richard Blanco--not only his inaugural poem, but a selection of 10 of his poems in The Wind Shifts, an anthology of new Latino poetry edited by Francisco Aragon.

Next week we'll hear about the following poets from The Wind Shifts--through the eyes of these students:


John Olivares Espinoza – by Isaias Faustino

Sheryl Luna – Maria Thomas

Brenda Cardenas – Samantha Danforth

Paul Pompa – Victor Garcia

Lidia Torres – By Grace Weaver

Maria Melendez – Ellen Schlabach

Naomi Ayala – Armarlie Grier

Venessa Maria Engel-Fuentes – Christina Hofer

Rose Alcala – Olivia Ginn

David Dominguez – Kiernan Wright

Gina Franco – Gina Gautsche

Carolina Monsivas – Tabitha Graybill

Urayoan Noel - Michael Nivens

Defining Our Terms

When you use an abstract word like "border" or a common metaphorical term like "bridge," it's crucial to define your terms so that your audience knows exactly what you have in mind. Throughout this class, we'll claim and define these terms as a community of scholars, refining our understanding of what they mean and how we can use them most effectively

Of course, when you define terms, there is the denotative (dictionary) meaning, and the connotative (informal, associative, contextual) meaning.

In class on Friday 1/18, we began this process. Here are some definitions, based on the dictionary, with added comments from class discussion. The dictionary definitions are drawn from the U. S. English version of oxforddictionaries.com.

BORDER - both a noun and a verb

Noun. A border is a line between two areas, or something that marks this edge. It tends to be public and visible. Crossing it often involves permission or effort.

The most common meaning of border is a line that separates two areas, either politically or geographically. To cross a political (national) border you often need a passport, a visa, or some other document that indicates that you are an official member of a country that is allowed to visit the country you are crossing into. To cross a geographical border--such as a mountain range or a river--you need to make a special effort.

A second meaning of border is the area near the border, such as "the northern border of Indiana is often called 'Michiana'."

A third meaning of border is a decorative band that marks an edge--such as the border on the hem of a dress or shirt, or a flowerbed that runs along the edge of a yard or property.

Verb. (With object.) To form an edge next to something. To be adjacent to something. To provide an edge for something.

Class Discussion (connotative meaning): We agreed that borders are often physically visible, or at least acknowledged and known by those on both sides. Borders need to be crossed, and you almost always know when you are crossing. There are often special kinds of permission needed to do so, or special equipment required (such as in climbing a mountain or crossing a river). Political and geographical boundaries may, but don't necessarily, coincide.

BOUNDARY - noun

A line that marks the limit of an area. A limit of a subject or a sphere of activity.

Class Discussion (connotative meaning): Boundaries are limits that we often set to protect ourselves or our group or community. While borders and boundaries have much in common, or sense in class discussion is that a boundary is established so that people won't cross it, whereas a border is a place of crossing that involves laws, rituals, or rules. It also seemed to many of us that boundaries are often abstract and invisible--such as boundaries between social classes, between different social groups in the college, between members of different religious faiths. These boundaries are only invisible until you sensed you've crossed one, in which case you can feel quite out of place, embarrassed, uncomfortable, or even in danger. Sometimes crossing boundaries is a brave or noble thing, other times it can be a disrespectful or threatening thing.

We discussed "healthy" boundaries or limits that people set to protect their privacy. We also talked about boundary walls that are set up to prevent people from crossing. Not all boundaries are meant to be crossed.

BRIDGE - noun, verb

Noun. A structure carrying a road, path, railroad or canal across a river or other obstacle.

Something meant to reconcile or form a connection between two things.

(This word also has other meanings that apply to dentures and music and musical instruments.)

What all of these definitions have in common is their description of a structure that connects two things that otherwise would be separated.

Verb. (With object.) To be a bridge. To make a bridge. To make a gap between two things smaller or less significant.

Class Discussion (connotations): We discussed bridges as things that make connections possible. We noted that a bridge has to have footings, or a foundation, on either side of what is being bridged. We discussed Black Like Me as a bridge, but then tried to examine in exactly what way Griffin's book functioned like a bridge and for whom. Mostly, his book allows non-black people to travel into the world of black people in the south of 1959. We discussed how John Howard Griffin's disguise served as his bridge, enabling him to cross back and forth between the boundaries that separated black and white society.

I'm sure we'll refine these definitions further throughout the course. Feel free to add your comments to this post in order to explore the definitions further.

Welcome to Borders & Bridges

A border is not only a boundary separating entities but also a meeting place, a contact zone, a site of encounter, of intimacy, of crossing, of bridge-building between persons and communities. In English 190, a Goshen Seminar in peacemaking, students will explore borders, boundaries, and bridges through literature and in life. Discussion will take place in class and on this blog. What borders define your life? What boundaries do you maintain? Which have you crossed? Which would you like to cross? What does it take to build a bridge between two separated areas? How can the borders themselves serve as meeting places that can bring people into intimate encounters? I'm writing this blog from across the border in Mexico, but look forward to joining students next week in the classroom and on this blog as we share our responses to Black Like Me, the first text in our class.