Lewis and Clark College holds a multi-cultural symposium ever year in which one event is especially catching. The Race Monologues gathers students from all over campus, people who I walk by everyday on my way to class, to tell their stories about race and how it has affected their lives. The last two years I have attended the Race Monologues I have laughed, cried, and related to students of all different colors, cultures, and upbringings. Every year I went I knew that I had a story just as powerful as them, I just wasn't sure how to tell it. I have always felt that I had something to share, and I think this year I finally have the words. Not only do I want to share it with all the members of my community in Portland, OR, I want to share it with the community that built me.
Every Sunday I will be attending a writing workshop much like is shown in the linked video above. We write a piece and bring it to share and discuss with our peers. I will be posting my weekly piece every Sunday evening. I'll be posting the prompts they give me, so feel free to follow along and write a piece for yourself. On November 9th we will be preforming a longer piece at the symposium in a spoken word format. I will hopefully be able to video tape the performance and post it to the blog.
MISS aims to empower women through exploration of culture and identity. Here is the beginning of my journey.
This first piece was written in response to the prompt: write a letter to someone or some institution with the things you wish you would have said to them/it. This is the little bit I got down on paper:
I had seen pictures of Alaska.
Back in Washington angsty and 13, my family crowded around the desktop to see our soon to be home, creating a pixel deep understanding. Two years later when I met you, I was still looking at life like internet pictures. Laughing with you was like looking through old film slides. Holding this little arctic community up to the sun, you were the light shining through the film. A culture, a community, and a family, illuminated before my eyes.