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,…

Daughter

I was the first child born to my parents. They were very happy, even though in the Indian culture, the first child as a daughter is not a very happy thing. It was a rainy day after a long and dry summer, and my father told everybody that his daughter brought mercy and blessing to…

My First Born Niece

The evening of March 15, 1953 was the night before my first niece, Deborah Jean Roberts, blossomed into reality. I was a high school senior preparing to go to a formal dance at the University of San Francisco. Looking back in time: In the apartment on Willard and Parnassus, I huddled in the bathroom with…

Grandfather

When I grew up, I wanted to be a grandfather. But I didn’t know that until I was one. Obviously, the thing about being a grandfather is that you have to have grandchildren. I have three of the best: Sean, Connor and Abigail. Without going into the seamy details, along comes Sean. Poof! I’m a…

Sisters Always

I was your sister for over 56 years.  You’ve passed away now, but I guess we will be sisters always. We were our parents’ only children. We couldn’t have been any more different. You were a free spirit.  I liked to stick close to mom. You grew into a beautiful, popular, outgoing woman with a…

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 read more writing assignments, go to the Assignments page. The upcoming posts respond to this assignment: Personas

Recipe for Life’s Bouquet

Step 1: Enjoy Every time I stop by a beautiful flower store, I am attracted by the pretty flowers The rose smells charming, romantic. The fragrant lily has a sweet smell. The bird-of-paradise flowers’ shape looks like a Queen wearing the crown. The orchid has a beautiful temperament. I enjoy flowers that can make me…

“What is this?”

K repeats his history, a version of his story, almost every time we sit down to talk. There is a wooden table. There is a man with a belt. There is blood. Sometimes the victim is a young woman who attended a birthday party. She is being beaten because men were present at the party….