Yo Soy Latina,  hija de inmigrantes, mujer de color, primera generación en los Estados Unidos, aquà desde el Sur.  Chicas como yo no han sido escuchadas en esta institución predominantemente blanca.  Mi piel puede llevarte por mal camino Mi acento y presencia es lo que aleja a todos Pero
How did I used to write poetry? I thought I would go on forever. If the well only bubbled up with dead tropes and gray-faced images, at least they were comfortable. Better than nothing at all. Â But now I find myself rushing to lit theory class on a November Thursday. The smell of dead […]
but I’d rather step in: kick my shoes off, peel my socks off, dip one toe in to start. And if it’s cold, all the better for when I slip one whole foot in and then the other, let the small pebbles tickle my sole and jagged rocks nip my heel, watch the blue veins […]
By Julia Voyt Pages and pages of 12 size Times New Roman are bled across the paper feverishly, introductions and statistics under methods and conclusions. Not eating food and my bicep is smaller this week I talk faster to my family and I write, write, write. The earth outside smells different and sw
By Emma Gail Compton I made the table I eat dinner at. The wood was cheap but sturdy. The stain I chose is a dark oaky red and makes the small round table seem more expensive than it was. One could find something similar at any store, but this table, my table, I made. I […]
By Fara Ling Ah Ma,     A few weeks ago, I realized I have never written Ah Ma a letter. That means I have never told Ah Ma I love you. There’s no way to say it in Hokkien, Ah Ma’s mother tongue. Forcing the syllables wa ai lu to sit next to […]