Truth Serum and Smoke
INTENTIONS | 9.1.2020
Dear Herders,
I associate the smell of wildfire smoke with fall. In California, the distinguishing factor between summer and winter is fire. Is the color orange. Is a grey sky. It hasn’t always been that way.
I’ve been reflecting on the idea of “truth” amidst the cacophony of mainstream media and daily distractions that can make truth hard to find—and hard to sit with when you find it. There are artists whose work helps bring truth to the surface, including this month’s feature Iris M. Crawford, whose poetry influences and infuses her activism and journalism.
Photo of “Truth Serum” article from Writer’s Digest extended addition published here.
In Truth Serum, a 2019 article by Jera Brown, authors Esmé Weijun Wang, Jericho Brown, and Karen Russell discuss emotional honesty and their relationship with truth. Later in the conversation, Esme states how,
So much of the time, I am not conscious and present: that’s when truth is able to come to me. When I’m most distracted is when I’m least able to be aware of what truth is.
What truths are you aware of today? Where in your body do you feel the emotions related to these truths? What truth’s have you been avoiding?
It’s a smoky day here, in Northern California. There are fires that extend beyond this state, there is the explosion in Beirut, there’s an ongoing struggle for basic dignity and life amidst cop brutality, and there are the million issues and causes not discussed here. There’s hundreds of unexplored truths that need a closer look, within myself and outside of myself.
As Jericho Brown states in Truth Serum, “Getting to emotional honesty is not the last line in the story. You’ve got to stay there, and that’s the hard part for me.”
What if we stay?
-Allie
P.S. Thank you for taking your time to read The Herd. I look forward to building this community with you, and I am also always open to feedback as this space continues to evolve and grow.
CREATIVITY CRUSH | 9.1.20
Iris M. Crawford on How Writing and Social Justice “Can Go Hand-in-Hand”
Activist, journalist, and poet Iris M. Crawford started her writing journey in the sixth grade. Today, her poetry and articles delve into social and environmental justice, and also speaks to her experience as a young Black woman in America. Iris is a total badass and changemaker, who is a member of the Shuffle Literary Arts Residency and a DWJ Public Policy Fellow with BWOPA.
Back in the sixth grade, Iris submitted a poem to the DEP Water Conservation Contest, and to her surprise, it placed. “I wrote a poem about water conservation; and that was one of the few rhyming poems I had,” Iris recalls. And that was just the beginning. In high school, Iris started writing more poetry and reading at Open Mics for UrbanWordNYC, supported and encouraged by her close friend Ashley August, who is now a published poet and actress.
The inside of Urban Word is covered in graffiti—the whole inside. It’s really cool. And that space centers the experiences of people of color, Black, indigenous, Latinx, and everybody in between. That’s when I saw how the writing practice and social justice go hand in hand. All of our writing related to social justice issues, or had a social lens to it.
From New York City to the Bay, Iris carries that social lens in all her art, whether the writing is in her poetry or journalism. “Is journalism a science or an art? I’m still trying to figure that out,” Iris muses. “It is an art, that is specifically a craft. Either way, I think for me, recognizing social justice and activism outside of journalism started with my poetry.”
What does today’s writing process look like, amidst COVID? For now, Iris says that she writes “key phrases in my phone or when I get really inspired, and also just write in my notebooks. Since the pandemic, I’ve been trying to do more writing sessions. If something inspires me, I’ll write it down right away.”
Speaking of inspiration, Iris has several mentors who influence her work. “Langston Hughes, Nikki Giovanni and Maya Angelou,” to name a few. “Cedric Bolton, my mentor at Syracuse University, and Ashley August, my friend since elementary school who is also an amazing poet.”
To follow Iris M. Crawford and support her art, check out her Twitter, personal Instagram, poetry Instagram, website, and Muckrack portfolio for her latest articles.
A CALL FOR YOUR ART | 9.1.20
Mark your calendars for The Herd’s annual Fall Harvest, where everyone is invited and encouraged to share their work. Entries are due via email (stories@allierigby.com) by October 15th.
You can submit published or unpublished written material, artwork, photography, mixed media, photos of your studio/desk, drawings, comics, etc. 11 Herders shared their work last year and it was a Special Issue.
Please send any longer written material (300+ words) as a PDF, Google Doc, or Word Document.
In your email submission, please include any websites or social media handles (if applicable) as well as a 1-3 sentence bio.
SEPTEMBER WRITING PROMPT | 9.1.2020
There’s a lot of distractions and “throat clearing” that happens before truth comes out in a written piece. For context, I’m referrencing the Truth Serum article again.
For this prompt, list the top 5 distractions that keep you from expressing truth in your writing and art. By distractions, I don’t mean “long hours at work,” but rather, the exhaustion that might come from those long hours at work. Is it time on FaceBook? Exhaustion? Newsfeeds? Grief?* List your top 5 “truth distractions.” Now, circle one of these distractions and write a poem or letter to it. You can be direct and start with, “Dear ” with whatever your main distraction is. Express all the feelings here. What is so sneaky or devastating about this particular distraction? What does it need from you, in order to let you create?
Take 15 minutes with this part. Then, take an additional 15 minutes to free-write, related to the prompt or not.
*Not meaning to simplify grief as a distraction , but rather, something that can halt the creative process, and understandably so. If you are grieving, can you write a letter to that grief?
QUICK LIT REVIEW | 9.1.2020
Ra Avis is a poet and “basically a dinosaur”according to her playful bio on her website. She’s also the author of Sack Nasty: Prison Poetry, as well as two books that followed, Dinosaur-Hearted and Flowers and Stars.
Sack Nasty tells directly of Ra Avis’ own experiences during her 438 days of incarceration. This collection is largely about freedom and dignity, as well as the brutal ways prison strips—or attempts to strip—those basic human needs to be free and to have dignity. Her poem “5150” comes to mind, which documents the true story of a time “the deputies called 5150,” swarming in a cell to stop a woman from singing American Grace at 5 AM. For singing at the wrong time of day.
Each poem in this collection is disturbing, beautiful, and angering. The poetry of Ra Avis bares witness to the personal, brutal reality within the prison industrial complex. The work also speaks to Avis’ strength while exposing the dangerous power dynamics within the institution—and the violence—that challenges notions of agency and hope.
I look forward to reading more of Ra Avis’ work. You can check out Avis’ latest blog post for more of her writing too.
Response from July Writing Prompt | 9.1.2020
A poem by Julia Edith Rigby, written in response to the July Prompt: “What do I do that is motivated by love?”
i make shit for people.
i make shit out of wood.
i am a lazy woodworker.
i don’t mess with
rulers or
tape measurers or
math.
i make a friend and
i ask my friend
what they like
and then
I make that for them.
your thumb is about 1”.
your arm is about 1’.
this is how I measure.
sometimes I have to cut
and re-cut
several times.
but it’s all good.
i make chairs
that wobble.
i make chairs that rock.
what
the fuck
ever.
i make coffee tables
big enough for one coffee cup.
i make coffee tables
big enough for thirty coffee cups.
i invite all my friends
for coffee.
i make a bowl from clay.
i cut fresh flowers
and put them in the bowl
on the coffee table.
i find wood at the beach.
i find wood at the dump.
my dad lends his tools
they’re his grandfather’s tools
his hammers
and awls
and needle-nosed
pliers.
not a scab
of rust.
i make cuts and more cuts
you know what they say
measure once
cut as many times as you need.
the beach has lots of good wood.
so does the dump.
the dump is a lovely place
to contemplate the anthropocene
and the poetics of decay.
careful lifting wood with your
bare hands
in the hot sun
rattlesnakes make their dens
in the shade.
make sure it doesn’t smell funny.
make sure it’s not soaked in creosote.
pallets are good
but you need a crowbar.
take pliers to pull out the
staples and nails.
when you’re ready to make a cut,
eyeball that shit first.
make pilot holes so you don’t
split the wood and cry.
my dad taught me that.
i used to split the wood and cry.
some people use glue too
but I never do.
glue takes too long
to dry
and life is short.
if you keep fucking up
your cuts and measurements
don’t give up.
turn that shit upside down.
now it’s a sculpture.
drill some holes in it and
plant succulents inside.
now it’s a garden.
don’t be sorry.
be better.
you can make a coffee table too.
all of us can.
find some wood and
screw it down to
two braces underneath.
cut four pieces in equal shapes.
these are the legs.
stick the legs
to the braces underneath.
if it rocks
cut the legs down
‘till they’re even.
you can make a coffee table
big enough for one coffee cup.
you can make a coffee table
big enough for thirty coffee cups.
invite all your friends
for coffee.
10 HAPPENINGS | 9.1.20
VIRTUAL: Two Languages, One Community. Bilingual project and collaboration and lessons learned, featuring authors Michael Warr and Chun Yu. Thursday September 3rd, 6:00-7:00 PM PST. Free event.
VIRTUAL: 9-Month “Birth Your Truest Stories” Workshop, curated by fellow Herder Audrey Kalman. “We’ll look at how community can be a source of nourishment for even the most solitary writer, and how we can support each other and ourselves [...]” Starts September 13th, 1:00-4:00 PM.
SUBMIT to Foglifter! “Foglifter’s literary journal is a biannual compendium of the most dynamic, urgent LGBTQ+ writing today. It’s a space where queer writers celebrate, mourn, rage, and embrace.” Submissions open until November 1st.
Lebanese Red Cross still accepting donations after horrific explosion and its aftermath. Every bit helps.
Saad Bee Hózhǫ́, a collective for Diné writers, held a poetry reading in June—their fundraiser remains open for White Mountain Apache Tribe Covid-19 Relief Fund and Navajo & Hopi Families Covid-19 Relief Fund.
Today Pandemic, Tomorrow Climate Change - Featured Herder Iris Crawford speaks to activists of three Oakland organizations that are dedicated to environmental and social justice.
VIRTUAL: PEN Out Loud. Epic speaking events September 1st, 15th, 30th and October 6th, $20 a session. “Each author this season examines the fabric of our culture with deft insight and illuminates a wide range of themes such as whiteness, faith, interracial love, midwestern and southern culture, depression, and immigration.”
Ai Wei Wei Drops Surprise Film About the COVID-19 Lockdown in Wuhan, article via Hyperallergic. “Ai has encountered numerous legal troubles in China over his art, activism, and criticism of the government.”
VIRTUAL: Planetary Health: How to Protect Nature to Protect Ourselves, brought to you by Living on Earth Radio. September 15th, 7PM ET. Free event.
We Will Emerge, from PEN America, 111 responses to the question, “How can we be better when this nightmare is over?” Featuring responses by Roxane Gay, Mayor Michale Tubbs, Reza Aslan, and many more influential leaders.
That’s it for Issue XIV of The Herd. Feel free to comment below, or share The Herd with anyone who needs a lift.
The Herd is a literary newsletter that celebrates artistic expression and elevates artists who build community and foster connection.