Thursday, October 9, 2008

Where are you from?

"If you don't know where you're from, you'll have a hard time saying where you're going." Wendell Berry, among others, has voiced this idea that we need to understand our roots to know our place in the world. A poem by George Ella Lyons is called "Where I'm From." I first heard it read by Appalachian poet Rita Quillen. Six months later, we used it as a writing assignment in a class taught by my friend Elizabeth Hunter at the Campbell Folk School in North Carolina. The poem lends itself to imitation and makes a wonderful exercise of exploration in belonging.

See the template here - http://www.swva.net/fred1st/wif.htm

Where I am from

I am from street hockey sticks, from wiffle balls and hynes field, I am from McCarthy hand-me-downs. I am from the neighborhood, houses close together and penny candy at Charlie's. I am from the backyard crabapple trees, from crabapple wars and tree forts, from swimming at Happy's to pickle between sewer caps. I am from relievio, and guns, and go carts, from kids actually playing in the streets. From endless summer games with Lynchs, McCarthys, Delaneys, McLains, from Keneallys, Cogavins, Corcorans, Silipignos, Weirs and Lepores.

I am from seeing Christmas lights on the Boston Common and from pride, from Sullivans and Wests and Butlers and Gatelys. I am from the keeping things inside, stubbornesss and always lending a hand.

From always stand up when you greet a woman and take you hat off when you enter a room. From stop crying and stand up straight, from stick up for yourself and your family, from elbows off the table. I am from Irish catholic to finding spirituality in nature and relationships.... I'm from Boston, from West Roxbury, From Mission Hill, From Roslindale, From Roscommon, From Dysart, from the famous chicken dish and crabmeat hors d'oeuvres.

I am from a line of proud federal agents, the assistant to the chief of the Boston Fire Dept, the marine corps volunteer, from amazing women and from always doing what is right or at least trying like hell to do so. I am my mother's talkativeness and my father quietness. I am from love your friends and family, and never forget to tell them so. I am from always stick up for yourself

I am from photos on my fathers dresser displayed proudly, from my mothers refrigerator photos.

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