Baggage Part 3

A stewardess spotted her. She crouched down to ask, “Where are your parents?” The young girl looked at her with a blank stare, tears streaming down her cheeks, spilling onto her hands clasped tightly in her lap. In her mind, she screamed, My Papa is dead dead dead! Instead of speaking, she reached into her jacket…

Baggage Part 2

In a way, she had always known this day would come. Her Papa was 62 when she was born. She had thought often over the years of what it would be like without him. She had not met her grandfather until yesterday. He had come to the funeral; her grandmother had not. She wasn’t sure why…

Baggage Part 1

This week we have special series of posts. We’ll be running a three part short story that was developed in the writing class. A new chapter will emerge on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday of this week. Stay tuned for the upcoming chapters.   Frozen in stillness, like a miniature statue, cemented in place. Her head…

Rebecca

R’s story reveals itself in broken strands. She is fourteen when she travels to America from Liberia. Alone. She comes for education, for the chance to work, to help support her parents and family. She is not afraid of the airplane. But she won’t get on the escalator, even when a friendly stranger offers to…

yOu

YOu are capable- don’t live a meaningless life spent in oblivion! YOu are smarter than yOu think- don’t allow fear and shame to push yOu into a silent submission. YOu are going to make mistakes- they are the gift of spring rain, that brings forth the bloom of humility and compassion. YOu will survive- don’t let…

I Am a Ripple

I am a ripple Noisy Relentless Spreading Tireless I am a ripple   Never silent Never still Never dropping Never shrill Never stopping I am a ripple   Often pensive Often happy Often sad Often eager Often bad I am a ripple   Bill A. Assignment: ‘I Am’ Poem

A Baby in Mom’s Tummy

I am a baby in Mom’s tummy, I wonder what the outside world will be. I hear dad’s prayers for me daily, I see his love for me as his baby, I want to say: “Thank you, Daddy!” I am a baby in Mom’s tummy.   I pretend that I understand their hopes for me….

I Am a Square Dancer

I am a square dancer. I wonder if I’ve forgotten anything. I hear the caller calling. I see the caller calling. I want to remember how to dance. I am a square dancer. I pretend to dance again. I feel happy. I need to dance a lot. I fear making mistakes. I cry but I…

What’s This About?

This blog features posts created by students of the PRC’s six-week creative writing class. Students choose the work they want to share (if any) and suggest an image to accompany their story. To learn more about our writing assignments go to the Assignments page. The upcoming posts respond to this assignment: ‘I Am’ Poem

S(END) Off Part 3

I created my college major. I call it “The Politics of Language.” I’m studying how public discourse and rhetoric around marginalized groups affects public policy. When I tell people what I’m studying eyes widen, heads nod. I’ve grown accustomed to the polite smile. And to explaining. We throw words around like they are meaningless. But the way we talk about each other influences…

S(END) Off Part 2

I have always had a fierce love of language. I love its nuances and subtleties, how no one word is exactly like another, and there is no joy quite like finding the perfect one. My job here at PRC is to work with words. That world is usually very comfortable to me. While my commitment…

S(END) Off Part 1

This week we have special series- a  three part reflection of an intern’s experience at the PRC. A new installment will emerge on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.  Soon after I started working, I realized that the People’s Resource Center is interruption-driven. It’s nearly impossible to finish one task without being interrupted by another request.  My first interruption,…