An Incantation: To Honor the Writer’s Growth

On April 27, 2022April 27, 2022 By Aginetta MulimaIn education, Internship, UncategorizedLeave a comment

I remember feeling that I’d come through something, shed a dying skin and was naked again. I wasn’t, perhaps, but I certainly felt more at ease with myself.
James Baldwin, The Art of Fiction No. 78 (An Interview by Jordan Elgrably)

Just focus on what is in front of you.

I thought about the rigorous work that comes with completing my thesis. I am trying to plan the next phase of my life, while honoring the ninety-four pages in a Word document. The internet browser highlights; Indeed’s job search engine, an email from my internship host, and the foreboding MFA countdown to-do’s.

In order to take a breath, I would like to honor the drafts I produced. I would like to feel a faint satisfaction for the blog posts that nudged me to revisit my personal blog in the first place. This Publishing Track at Bay Path University has been a place of curiosity. What speaks to me? What do I want to do next? Where do I see myself as a writer? What are my publishing goals (and how are they subject to change)? How have I challenged myself?

I thought deeply about Kay Hardy Campbell’s self-publishing presentation. Writers do have options. With elbow grease (and savvy research), the untraditional path can open doors. I send my deepest gratitude to the former high school librarian that embodied untraditional roots too. I can see her now placing the medium cardboard box that read ‘write a poem, leave a poem.’ I thank the peers from Mr. Stearn’s Latin class for participating.

This memory brings a smile to my lips as I think about my cohort in those days. There is Maya. There is Bobbi. There is Estevan. Before I gather my gaze, I must send my deepest gratitude to the slew of English teachers and professors. Their words of strength guiding me across the literary storms of my life.

With this awareness, this blog post detailing the end of the MFA program does not feel like an adieu. In reviewing the places I had been (and the people I have met), it becomes apparent that I am noticing my new skin. James Baldwin’s above quote holds true. My peers and I have come through something. The MFA program has offered folks a chance to actualize a dream. One that I had almost abandoned. It matters to not be negligent towards one hope for the future.

“I remember when you were considering the application itself,” my therapist said. Her warm smile comes through the Telehealth app. “And now you are graduating,” she continued. Sometimes it is easy to forego one’s growth. How grateful I am to connect with folks in the publishing industry, and more so likeminded peers. After all, persistence is key.

I am afraid to venture to one of many finish lines. However, I am in good company. The Snapdragon team will continue to be a beacon in my professional life. I look forward to carrying on with Jacinta and Petra.

Truthfully, my writer’s contract is a letter to myself. It is not necessarily a pact, but an encouragement-agreement. I am hopeful that I will return to the Southwest, and I have made the intention in my heart to connect with literary writing groups there. My artsy friends from high school are musicians, mixed media artists, and wellness practitioners. One day, I’d like to interview them. I want to write about things and people that matter to me.

Sometimes you find a little bit of yourself when the people around you speak their truth. I thought about the frankness and honesty of my MFA cohort. Here is the struggle. Here is the flowing energy. Here is the profound pause to name an experience before it flutters away.

To myself and to you, I say: Please continue to write. Please continue to manage your mental health in the best way you know how. Please keep in touch with your writer-friends, and water the seeds you planted.

There’s an adage that says you cannot keep digging up the seeds you plant. Perhaps, I will allow myself a fallow period after graduation. I will not revisit my thesis right away. There are essays tinged with my past self’s perspectives. There are essays I want to rework from a place of compassion. This is the part of my writer’s contract that takes up the most space in my head.

When we are ready, we can examine our skin. Perhaps, here we can admire our worth.

Go forward and in peace.

The Writer Visits the Desert

On March 29, 2022 By Aginetta MulimaIn InternshipLeave a comment

I missed the large Sandia Mountains crowning Albuquerque, New Mexico. The city itself brims with decadent murals in Old Town and vibrant local bookshops. I take as many pictures as I can. It has been seven years since I moved away.

As I left the Sunport airport, I thought about where I saw myself post MFA. I want to be here. Here where the sun never hides for long. Here where the orange glow radiates on an old acquaintance’s face. Here where I attended community college and also where I joined the poetry workshop meetings post high school.

With laptop in tow, I maintain my internship duties with Snapdragon. I am in good company. A majority of the editorial team are also writers. The managing editor, Petra, shares their insights on Zoom how to ensure copyright. We are both scurrying to complete our thesis, and there are many things to consider when sharing one’s work in the public domain. Our conversations feel rooted and transcendent. We share a horoscope sign and an affinity for poetry. At one point, we have lived in the same state — New Mexico.

“I missed green chile so much,” I type at the bottom of my email.

“greeeeeen chile,” Petra responds in her next correspondence.

Similar to hot chile, writers stoke their own heat. When done correctly, our bonds keep one another warm through many dry spells and writer’s blocks.

Perhaps, writers continuously look for meaning and bonds wherever we go. During my visit to Albuquerque, I kept writing stories about the people I met. The people in the airport are friendly (despite a late departure). People pull out books from their carry-ons, and people sow in a lot more hope than I could ever imagined.

I watch the short nun, clad in her long dress, clasp her rosary that dangles from her grasp. I watch the plump child, eyes full of amazement, as his two Hispanic parents soothe him throughout the flight.

This internship has brought forth a new set of eyes. Perhaps when people start to heal, it is possible to look at an absolute stranger and want their life to contain ease too. Snapdragon, a journal based in art and healing, opens a door for writers and supporters alike.

I find myself applying that same level of care in my life. What does it mean to be a writer who heals? What does it mean to be a writer who takes their own healing seriously? On the plane trip home, I thought about Alice Walker’s words in We Are the Ones We Have Been Waiting For: Inner Light in a Time of Darkness. As a note, the title of Alice Walker’s book derives from wisdom from Hopi elders.

Walker repeats her own meditative words on not only how to release anger but to cultivate healing power. The words are:

May you be free

May you be happy

May you be at peace

May you be at rest

May you know we remember you

Before I started the MFA, I imagined that my writing needed to be perfect to have impact. Now, I am considering the role of keeping a journal (per my MFA instructor). Now, I am weighing the choice to take care of myself on purpose and encourage others to do the same –through writing. To write means to live. I never imagined that my own writing could be a safer place for me to exist too.

May you know peace.

Lighting the Way

On March 3, 2022 By Aginetta MulimaIn commentary, InternshipLeave a comment

On the cusp of Spring, I am surprised how much the sun matters to me. I need those longer evenings basked in warmth. I need that reminder how things will change for the better. My internship at Snapdragon has undergone a seasonal shift too. The team now works on finalizing the Spring issue. This includes editing, formatting, adding pictures, creating social media posts, and more.

My weekly tasks began with organization. I updated the Google Drive continuously throughout the weeks. Then, I dove into market research. So, you can imagine my delight when the managing editor and editor-in-chief offered me another opportunity that related more to sensing and feeling.

How do you feel about rearranging the poems for the upcoming issue?

I immediately responded via text and accepted this invitation. This was a stream of sunlight coming through the window. It was a challenge to embody an analytical eye needed for research; however, I learned to advocate for what I thought would benefit this journal. It’s trusting your gut (with the inclusion of hard facts).

Yet, I loved the creative appeal even more. In an earlier post, I discussed that this quarter’s theme focuses on pleasure. It feels timely with the news cycle, running on overdrive, to keep all folks updated on how things are around the world. The harrowing ordeal of those in Ukraine; students, citizens, neighbors, and activists. The blooming disparity in Somalia, Palestine, Israel, and the United States too.

More than ever, human rights are disregarded. Yet, it does reveal the stark awareness of how countries can be better, and the people who lead those countries can lead with humanity — if they choose to do so. I am reminded again that people – with their humble and vibrant hearts – are trying to uplift others.

How are people grounding themselves? What brings people pleasure? How are the poets viewing their inner and outer world right now? Which verses will carry people through their darker times?

Perhaps, I am more surprised at the dialogue between staff members. People are open to sharing how they are really doing, and at the same time a crack of sunlight enters. It reminds me of the Sufi poet, Rumi who said “the wound is where the light enters you.”

Perhaps, invoking pleasure does heal parts of our wounds and the ones around us. Perhaps, acknowledging what we love the most allows us to move in that direction.

I am surprised when the sunlight comes, but I am never surprised on how much it means to people who need a light in a tunnel.

The Glasses Club

On February 19, 2022 By Aginetta MulimaIn Internship1 Comment

On Thursday mornings, I meet with two people on staff who wear funky glasses. I never imagined that my internship site would be the meeting place for aesthetics. Yet here we are. The managing editor and the founder of Snapdragon are invested in self-expression. I am grateful for that.

My contribution includes heart shaped glasses. I bought a pair of sunglasses from the DSW shoe store, many summers ago, and converted them to suit my interests.

“I do not know if they will do them,” my optometrist said. “But let’s see what happens.”

The eyeglass company relented — consenting to add my prescription. I wonder how my internship’s editorial team handled their glasses. What is their story?

Photo by Karolina Grabowska on Pexels.com

“These are stereotypical art teacher glasses,” the managing editor quips one Thursday. Their frames, one circular and one rectangular, are certainly something you would see your favorite high school art teacher wear. Ironically, they have worked as a substitute teacher during the pandemic — so it all balances out.

Next, the founder has a pair of leopard glasses. The frames themselves are in a cat-esque style. It is similar to what Eartha Kitt might have worn offscreen when she was not starring as Catwoman in the original Batman series (1967).

“We are the cool glasses club,” the managing editor chimes.

“Yes. We are!” the founder adds.

Lately, our Thursday check-in meetings have happened over Zoom but occasionally we utilize Google Chat. Upon entry, I see the same familiar glasses with warm eyes behind them. I am grateful that I see my internship hosts on a regular basis (alongside our additional text messages and emails). Our video calls delve into the assigned to-do lists, but there is still room to obsess over previously read books.

The managing editor and I adore The Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color. It is a curious thing to share space with people who work in the publishing business, and how their own feminist leanings play a part in their work. Perhaps, our glasses are radical AND we choose to represent ourselves as such.

More so, I am deeply moved on how people are interested in collaborating with others who share a similar mission. After all, these past few weeks have focused on research. I am perusing the internet for answers and utilizing writer’s tools that I did not know existed (Duotrope, anyone).

The questions are: What other healing and arts journals are there? Where are we [Snapdragon journal] in relation to them? And, if I might add — where are the additional members of the cool glasses club? We shall find them.

Update: Internships and Healing

On February 3, 2022 By Aginetta MulimaIn InternshipLeave a comment

To find your footing,

you must first be okay with being lost.

When I sat in my advisor’s office, I felt myself shrinking. The room painted in a stark white color did not help. I tried to ground myself. Look at the open pack of brown almonds on her desk. Look at the skeletal trees dressed in snow — outside the window.

In that last semester, I worried. What kind of job will I have? Where do you land with a degree in Writing and Global Studies? I sat there as a woman of color at a predominantly White institution, and I was afraid of failure.

“Have you thought about an internship,” my advisor asked.

I searched for answers. I had devoted time to writing a thesis about intersectional feminism. I wanted a pathway between Black American feminism/womanism and the various feminisms from the continent of Africa.

Settling back on to my advisor’s tossed brown hair and curious white gaze, I didn’t have a solid answer. She couldn’t make that decision for me (i.e., editorial, newspaper, and communications sector etc). I needed to fill that space of where I wanted to fly. How big are my dreams?

“Oh, I don’t know,” I said.

At a majority White women’s college, it felt difficult to pinpoint where to go. Yes, I had worked in the Center for Diversity and Inclusion. Yes, I had other literary friends who were Black, Brown, and Queer. Many of whom belonged to minority represented religions too. Yet, I didn’t know where to go in 2018.

Photo by Tomu00e1u0161 Malu00edk on Pexels.com

In December 2021, I meet with Jacinta W — the founder of Snapdragon: A Journal of Art and Healing. Over Zoom, I feel calm and reassured that I can finish this last semester in graduate school. I navigated the journal’s website weeks prior. I am in awe of the personal bios related to the staff. They are people who strive for human rights and, they carry an affinity for the written word. This is where I want to belong.

Snapdragon is a femme-led literary journal that strives toward creating space for many. I am struck by their stance to accept previously published pieces. I am interested that the work itself does not have to be the best but it does carry resonance. I wonder what that means in an age driven toward perfection. Perhaps, that’s a lesson for many — you are welcome here as imperfect as you are.

The response to the pandemic has pushed many to the brink. I am appreciative that there are writing workshops for medical staff to share their words and art at this journal. I thought about my own mother who seemed to disappear into her uniform. Here comes the goggles, K-N95 masks, the scrubs, the support-compression socks, and much more. Here comes the tired gait from the car to the house.

I thought about what it meant it to own your own healing. Perhaps, that is the tallest order if you are othered in America. As a Black woman, I wanted to bolster myself and find a lean-to that would hold up in many political hailstorms.

For two weeks, I have monitored the incoming emails from this literary journal. Messages included:

How can I help? (A new subscriber)

Do you need volunteers? (An inquiry for partnership)

How can we be a resource? (A thread between staff members in regard to trauma in our larger community).

These are the literary spaces I enjoy. The ones where people become proactive about healing and providing a space for many to be witnessed. I am excited for the upcoming journal issue that myself and additional staff members will work on closer to March. This quarter’s theme focuses on pleasure. During one’s healing, I believe people forget they are allowed to experience big and small forms of joy. What would it mean to cultivate desire? What would it look to conjure this effort as a form of alchemy?

This is a new beginning.

It is a step forward –

a deep desire to be found.