Poetry Two

Did you know our country has a National Poet Laureate to raise the nation’s appreciation of poetry? This year’s poet is Tracy K Smith! To hear her read click here.   Theatre Funny, serious Entering, exiting, singing Actors, stage, director, choreographer Dancing, projecting, performing Dark, bright auditorium   Life Long, Short Laughing, crying, hoping Plants,…

Poetry: Day One

In honor of September as National Literacy Month, we’re publishing poetry written by the students in the PRC writing class. New poems will be published all week.    Fear Deep, Unbidden Overpowering, paralyzing, exhausting, ebbs, flows, resignation, survivable penetrating, defining, tempering, cold, unwelcome. Terror.   Betrayal Painful, Unexpected Heartbreaking, Trust Taking Cowardly, Cruel, Callous, Cold…

Job Hunting for Beginners

This is the third post in a series on finding a job in the US. To read from the beginning, start here.   Job hunting can be a lonely business. I’m using every possible path to find my way through this void. I have started by registering with several job search-engine websites. These can help with…

Let’s Calm Down

This is the second of a three-part piece describing the pain of losing a job. To read the first part, go here.   Let’s calm down. I have no time to be frustrated or disappointed. I have no time for anger. Those pitiful feelings don’t make anything better. I have to move forward. Quickly. I…

The Moment the Sky Collapased

  It was an ordinary day in the middle of May. As a product engineer, I worked for a US company that manufactures electronic parts for the tech industry. After the lunch break, I got an e-mail asking me to attend a meeting. It came from the human resource office. I was the only name…

Home: I Never Forgot

After Grandpa Dyer threw us out of his apartment, Mother, Aunt Margie, my sisters, and I moved to the Noe Valley region of the Mission District in San Francisco. It was there that I lived for the following 11 years. At the end of our block was Fitzpatrick’s, a small grocery store where later in…

Home: Her Shelter

“I need more endurance,” she mutters to herself on the way home. She felt alive in the middle of the soccer game. But by the end, she was tired. The result of the game is no longer her priority. Running light and long. That’s enough. Nothing is more boring than jogging at the same speed….

Home: Divided

I am a seven-year-old boy in the yard in front of my house. Living in a small space made me feel like a mischievous, troublesome brat. I fully enjoyed the light of days. My small yard was the place where my friends and I used to spend the whole day playing ball and “catch me.”…

Home: Well On My Way

I am glad I’m never going to be seven again. Seven was painful. What point of reference does one have at this young age? I was leaving first grade and entering second. We were living in an apartment at the corner of Montrose and Clark when my father became sick and lost his job. So…

Home: Shelved

I forgot what I was doing, standing here. That’s right — looking for a place to put this finished book. I scan the shelves to see where it might fit best. The top shelf contains mostly coffee table books. Below that, nonfiction. History on the left, biography and memoir on the right. Toward the middle…

Home: Simple Pleasures in a Strange World

8 years old I lived in a single home until I was 8 years old. I don’t remember much about it, but I can recall some scenes. My parents had two daughters and one son. I am the last. My family lived in a small single home in an alley with my youngest uncle and…

Home: I See What Matters

I see myself growing up so fast. Now I can notice things that I could not when I was seven. My parents’ house is still warm and enjoyable with them in it. I have a little baby brother, and I must help my mom care for him. Two sisters and two brothers already left the…