Category: writing

Celebrating ten years of the New York fracking ban

Ten years ago today, New York State announced an administrative ban on high-volume hydraulic fracturing (fracking) in the state. (in 2021, the legislature made it a law.)

To celebrate, Food & Water Watch, one of the lead organizations in fighting fracking, has compiled a free, commemorative e-book, which you can download here.

A large coalition of organizations, environmentalists, indigenous nations, scientists, engineers, and concerned citizens had spent years advocating for a ban, helped by many of our Pennsylvania neighbors who were suffering from the harms of fracking in their communities. There had been rallies, commentary in the press and at hearings, educational events, scientific papers and lectures, and showing up at public appearances by then-Governor Andrew Cuomo leading up to the ban, which occurred when the Dr. Howard Zucker, the Health Commissioner, said that fracking was too dangerous for New Yorkers’ health, ending what had been a very fraught battle over the SGEIS (Supplemental Generic Environmental Impact Statement) that would have allowed fracking without need for site-specific studies.

Yes, that sounds very wonky but we were lucky to have lawyers and other experts in the coalition who could break everything down for us into understandable, actionable bits.

My role in the efforts to ban fracking was as a member of the Rapid Response Team. We would receive links to articles about fracking in the media and write comments to bolster the truth and challenge misinformation. It was intense at times but it meant a lot when I would be at a rally or event and people from other parts of the state would recognize my name from comments I had written. It was good to know that my little part was helpful to the cause.

When the announcement came from Albany ten years ago, there was rejoicing from all parts of the coalition and a celebration here in Binghamton, which had been the epicenter of both the pro- and anti-fracking efforts. Unfortunately, I couldn’t attend because I was sick with shingles. I was very grateful, though, and as excited as I could manage to be.

We aren’t having a party on this tenth anniversary but we are all awaiting Governor Kathy Hochul signing a bill that will add carbon dioxide to the existing fracking ban. The bill was passed in March and we have been urging her to sign it ever since.

Many bills get signed in December so it could be any day now, although I’m hoping it will be today.

It would be a fitting tenth anniversary commemoration and a reminder to the nation that New York says NO to fracking!

Update: On Dec. 21, Governor Hochul finally signed the bill. You can read the press release from coalition members here.

150th anniversary of the Vicksburg Massacres

(Photo by Justin Wilkens on Unsplash – Yazoo River at Vicksburg during 2019 flood)

Today, December 7, 2024, marks the sesquicentennial of the beginning of the Vicksburg, Mississippi Massacres during the Reconstruction period following the United States Civil War.

I grant you that I would not know this were it not for Ellen Morris Prewitt, an author and fellow blogger, who has been researching this in relation to her own family history.

You can read about it all in this guest opinion piece in the Mississippi Free Press. You can also find the link through Ellen’s blog post on its publication. In looking back through her blog archive, you can find posts on Ellen’s journey of discovering her ancestors’ history and dealing with its impact on her own life.

There is a commemoration occuring this weekend in Vicksburg, recovering a history that had been largely forgotten. Thank you, Ellen, for your role in bringing this history back into our consciousness.

Update: Some photos from the commemoration are available on Ellen’s blog here.

“Hello, I Am Not a Soldier” by Abby E. Murray

Rattle Magazine has an ongoing series called Poets Respond which publishes at least one poem a week based on something that happened in the news in the last week.

Today, Rattle published a powerful poem from Abby E. Murray. I happen to know Abby because they did their doctoral work at Binghamton University where they served as director of the Binghamton Poetry Project when I first became involved with it.

The poem “Hello, I Am Not a Soldier” comes from Abby’s reaction to the incoming Trump administration’s nomination for various positions, especially defense secretary. You can read the poem at the link above, as well as hear Abby read it.

The lines that are resonating particularly with me this morning are

… I ration false comfort by knowing

it has never not been this way

What about this poem resonates with you?

(Photo by Lucas Sankey on Unsplash. Due to Instagram requirements, I needed an image to go with this post and opted for my standard Vote for Democary ’24 image. Tags are also broken at WordPress right now; I hope to add some later when that function is fixed.)

Merrill Oliver Douglas and Suzanne Cleary at BCAC!

Yesterday, it was my pleasure to attend a reading by my fellow Grapevine and Boiler House Poets Collective friend Merrill Oliver Douglas and Suzanne Cleary at the Broome County (NY) Arts Council.

Merrill and Suzanne met decades ago in Binghamton, where Suzanne grew up and where Merrill re-located for graduate school and then settled. Merrill grew up in New York City and Suzanne has lived in that area for over thirty years. Their mirrored biographies drew together a fun mix of people in attendance, including Merrill’s Grapevine poet-friends and some of Suzanne’s high school classmates. We filled the Artisan Gallery at the Broome County Arts Council, commandeering extra chairs as needed. Bonus: In addition to poetry, we enjoyed the BCAC Members’ Juried Exhibition on display this month.

The impetus for the reading was the release of Merrill’s first full-length poetry collection, Persephone Heads for the Gate, winner of the Gerald Cable Book Award published by Silverfish Review Press. We were treated to several poems from the new book, including the title poem, as well as a number of more recently written poems. As always with Merrill’s work, I was impressed by her ability to bring a unique but no-nonsense perspective to everyday objects and occurrences, curating just the right details to reveal the essence of her subjects. Persephone joins Parking Meters into Mermaids (Finishing Line Press, 2020) on the shelves at the Artisan Gallery. For those outside our area, they can also be ordered through the provided links.

This was my first opportunity to hear Suzanne Cleary read in-person and I loved it! She somehow manages to maintain energy and insight in longer narrative poems, a skill that I much admire but doubt I will ever attain. In honor of reading back in her hometown, Suzanne chose some poems with local ties, as well as those relating to different time periods and circumstances. Some were from her prior books (listings with ordering information here) while others were newer work. We all loved the first poem she read, which was about her experiences with reading Merrill’s work! We were also thrilled with the news that Suzanne will have a new book, The Odds, published in Spring 2025 by New York Quarterly Books. It was chosen by poet Jan Beatty as winner of the 2024 Laura Boss Narrative Poetry Award. Updated information should be available through the links I’ve provided or ask at your favorite bookstore.

Merrill and Suzanne answered audience questions and then engaged in conversation and book signing. It was a wonderful experience! I encourage you all to check out their work and enjoy!

later…

I had thought I’d write another post in my Vote for Democracy ’24 series on Wednesday.

Or Thursday.

Or today, but I’m not ready yet.

I’m usually decent at writing in close proximity to events, but not now. As it happens, we’ve had some major developments on the family health scene and most of my limited brainpower has been going there.

I’m grateful for the many people who have been writing compassionate, reflective, supportive pieces about the election results and the path forward. I appreciate the show of love and community.

I’ll join in when I’m able.

Peace,
JC

end of BHPC residency + return to reality

The Boiler House Poets Collective after our reading at The Bear & Bee

When I last posted, I had intended to post again sooner, but I found that the BHPC reading had taken a lot more out of me than I had thought, so I concentrated the energy I had on writing new poems and actually making it to workshop sessions.

We also had our planning meeting for next year, which will mark the tenth anniversary of the formation of the Boiler House Poets Collective after the original members met at the first workshop-in-residence by the Studios at MASS MoCA in conjunction with Jeffrey Levine of Tupelo Press. No details available now but lots of fun ideas under consideration!

I am so grateful to be a part of BHPC and am particularly thankful that we have become a true collective, with everyone pitching in to make it all work. I love our creative, supportive, and affirming atmosphere. Given my current health limitations, I would not have been able to participate this year without everyone else’s generosity in lending me a hand – sometimes literally when my balance was off! I also love how our three new members this year brought creative, joyful energy along with them and all plan to return next year.

I came home to a week of medical appointments and tests and an unfortunate uptick in symptoms. We are still working on a diagnosis with more tests and specialists forthcoming. We’ve ruled out a lot of possibilities but I’m anxious to arrive at a diagnosis so that we have a shot at figuring out an effective treatment plan.

Meanwhile, we have less than three weeks until Election Day here in the US. I hope to get out another Vote for Democracy ’24 post out soon.

Deadlines…

Museum and reading with BHPC

Continuing with stories from the Boiler House Poets Colllective workshop-in-residence at The Studios at MASS MoCA…

Yesterday was a loooong day here in North Adams. I managed to get some studio time in the first part of the morning, including writing another section of the poem I started my first day here. If anything, it got a bit darker/starker. I’m not sure if this will be the final section or if one more may appear before the end of residency. I just know it’s unlikely to be today.

I went to the museum when they opened at 10:00. My goal was to blitz the new exhibits and take some photos for future reference. I also collected the guides for the new work to use as reminders and background if I decide to write some ekphrastic poems. MASS MoCA is not a collecting museum. While there are some long-term exhibits, most are only here for a year or so before moving on to another location. It’s one of the things that keeps returning here every year fresh. I wanted to do a walk-through as soon as possible – the museum was closed on Tuesday – so that I’d have time to let some ideas percolate and then return to specific pieces to take notes or even draft new poems.

I did, though, re-visit some of my long-term favorite exhibits, including our namesake Boiler House. (I have a poem about that.) The photo above was taken there. For some reason, this equipment really caught my eye this year, perhaps because it is colorful among the rust.

I was also on the lookout for the formerly upside-down tress of Natalie Jeremijenko’s Tree Logic. (I have a poem about that.) The piece had been in the courtyard at MASS MoCA’s entrance for almost 25 years, with the trees periodically swapped out and planted. As they return to their natural position, the bends in the trunk and branches eventually straighten. Positive phototropism! The last six trees were planted near Richard Nonas’ Cut Back Through (for Bjorn). I have a poem about that, too, which I will actually share here. This is a revised version of the poem that first appeared in Emulate.

Time/Rate/Distance
after Cut Back Through (for Bjorn), Richard Nonas

Three thrones hold court,
sun-warmed, polished granite;
ancient mica flecks five 
rough-hewn footstools. 

Bees prefer surrounding clover, 
sweet white sustenance for inevitable 
winter, oblivious to any human,
serve their sisters and queen.

I, too green, too new,
too fragile for this place,
settle on footstool, 
absorb warmth of sun,
strength of stone,
whole-heartedness of bees.


After being on my feet for so long, my neck and back were tired and I accepted the offer that my apartment-mate had made to rest on her mat in her studio, which is outfitted with an acupressure mat for the back and neck. That revived me enough to be ready for our group lunch at 1:00.

After lunch, we took two of our new BHPC members on a tour of the Boiler House, which is a fun tradition.

Then, I went to our apartment to rest for the afternoon to get ready for our reading. I scooted out for an early solo dinner at Boston Seafood, which has been in North Adams since before I can remember in the 1960s. Bonus: they serve mocha sundaes, one of the few places left that holds to that North Adams tradition. (I have a couple of mocha poems, of course.)

The reading was at 7 PM at The Bear & Bee Bookshop. I’m pleased to say that we were standing room only and the reading was very well received. Through the miracle of alphabetical order, I was first up and read three North Adams poems, one about Drury High School, an ekphrastic poem about Xu Bing’s Phoenix which ties into some local history, and one about the public library. I was grateful to be first so that I could enjoy the rest of the reading. There were even some questions during the Q&A!

While most of the poets went to a neighboring restaurant for dinner/celebrating after the reading, I went back to the apartment to lie down and rest my neck and back. When my apartment-mate came home, we talked for a couple of hours – or maybe closer to three? – before turning in.

The long day with lots of walking and stairs and standing had gotten to me, though. My neck, shoulders, and back all tightened up and I had a lot of trouble sleeping. Today is going to be a slow day. I’m in my studio now but will probably head back to the apartment after I post this to rest and/or nap before lunch at 1. I’ll probably need to spend most of the rest of the afternoon prone, too, in order to be upright for supper out and evening discussion. It’s annoying to have to spend so much time lying down and resting but everyone is having a good and fruitful experience with our residency and I’m very grateful for that and for being here, even though I have unaccustomed limits this year.

One-Liner Wednesday: Poetry Reading TONIGHT

For people in the North Adams, Massachusetts area, please join the Boiler House Poets Collective, currently in residence with The Studios at MASS MoCA, for a free reading at Bear & Bee Bookshop, 28 Holden St., North Adams at 7 PM with light refreshments to go along with the great poetry!

Join us for Linda’s One-Liner Wednesdays! Find out more here: https://lindaghill.com/2024/10/09/one-liner-wednesday-on-my-walk/

BHPC first morning

.This is the first morning of the Boiler House Poets Collective workshop-in-residence this year.

We all arrived safely yesterday afternoon and enjoyed a welcome dinner together at Nara Sushi. After that, we all went back to our apartments. I stayed up talking with my apartment-mate, cleared up a few things on my computer, and went to sleep.

For a few hours.

I woke up at about four and, after I realized I wasn’t going to be able to go back to sleep, started drafting a poem in my head, which I then wrote out on paper because it gave me a better pallette for the spacing. I showed it to my apartment-mate before she left in the still-early morning darkness for our studios.

I also came to the studios on the early side and we visited a bit. She graciously swapped chairs with me to make it easier for me to have head and neck support. I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to write more, but, looking out my studio window, photo above, I was able to write another section to the poem I started earlier.

It is one of those angsty, personal poems reflecting on my current health and worries. It might never make it even as far as workshopping, but I apparently needed to write it. It’s the first poem I’ve written spontaneously since the tinnitus and other symptoms started in March. I have worked on some revisions and wrote a new poem in a workshop with Abby E. Murray, but, otherwise, hadn’t been feeling creative in that way.

So, yay, for having written something new, even if it is not viable as a work for sharing.

Sometimes, catharsis is reason enough.

BHPC residency begins

Later today, I’ll be travelling to North Adams, Massachusetts to begin the 2024 Boiler House Poets Collective workshop-in-residence at The Studios at MASS MoCA (Massachusetts Museum of Contemporary Arts).

It’s been lovely seeing the enthusiasm among my fellow poets as we’ve been doing our final preparations. Unfortunately, due to my current health complications, I’ve mostly been feeling apprehensive.

I’m used to spending long days and evenings during residency writing, editing, visiting the museum, workshopping, and eating/socializing with my poet-friends, but this year I have scaled my plans back significantly in deference to my current struggles with tinnitus, blurred vision, neck pain and stiffness, balance problems, fatigue, and brain fog. I’ve planned to do creative work in the mornings when I’m most likely to have mental clarity, spend most of the afternoon resting, and re-join the group for the evening.

This plan might work – or it might not. I need to be careful to listen to what my body is able to do that day and adjust because, if I push too hard, I risk the next day being a total loss.

I am not putting pressure on myself to generate new work if I don’t have the mojo to do so. There are plenty of poems that I could work on revisions. There’s also a lot of submission work I could do, which isn’t especially creative but does involve careful attention to detail.

It’s not that I haven’t had life complications at past residencies. I’ve done them during the final years of my parents’ lives when I was involved with their care and after their deaths when I was in the early phases of grief.

This situation feels different, though. While my brain was working differently when I was highly stressed or grieving, I still recognized what was happening in my head. The brain fog is more difficult. I need to divert part of my attention to processing what I see and hear and to how I move in order to keep my balance. My thoughts are slowed down and I easily lose my train of thought. I’m accustomed to mulling poems in my head before I sit down to write but it’s rare now that my brain has the power to generate a creative seed and allow it to germinate.

I think part of me is afraid that this state is my “new normal.” Without a diagnosis, treatment is elusive. We are working on that but it’s frustrating that I don’t have my accustomed level of mental acuity to bring to the process.

I’m also sad that I haven’t been able to workshop poems for months here with the Grapevine Poets and that will continue this week with BHPC. I miss seeing others’ work in progress and hearing the discussion about possible revisions. It’s a reciprocal relationship among the poets and very valuable for someone like me who came to poetry later in life without formal training in craft. I miss being able to do it, even though I always feel that I get more than I’m able to give in feedback to others.

As you can see from the graphic on this post, we will be doing a public reading on Wednesday, October 9 at 7 PM at the Bear & Bee Bookshop. I am determined to do that as well as I can. I am reading first when I’m most likely to have the needed energy. I chose poems and wrote out the welcome remarks I need to make so that I don’t babble or forget what I need to say. I haven’t practiced as much as I probably ought to have but will make sure to do at least a couple of run-throughs before Wednesady evening.

You may be asking why on earth I am still trying to do the residency in my compromised state. I am committed to the Boiler House Poets Collective and my current role as liaison to The Studios. Still, I wouldn’t be able to do this were it not for my trust in the BHPC members. Last year, we planned for members to take on different aspects of organizing the residency and everyone has stepped up to do their part and more. I am able to carpool with my local BHPC members so I don’t have to drive. I know that any of them will be willing to give me a hand, perhaps literally if I need it to help with my balance. I absolutely could not do this without their support and I appreciate it.

I’ll try to get some posts in from the residency to let you know how things are going. Prose is generally easier for me to write than poetry so maybe that will work out. Maybe not.

I’ll try to listen to my body.

Wish me luck.