An Errant Sputnik

The piece I wrote for Oregon Humanities is finally here!!

Well… Digitally. My physical copy hasn’t come in yet, but I can’t NOT share this with you all, because this is the first time my writing has been published!

“Ten Years in the Forge”
Ten years ago, we were ready to light the world on fire.
We started with a dumpster. We abandoned our election viewing event in the Park Blocks, along with our hope, and we took to the streets. There was a moment, standing alone in downtown Portland, when I heard people yelling from the windows of their apartments, their voices echoing between buildings, joining the chorus of voices that had broken out to decry the world’s injustice. How could he have won? I did not know the world until that day.

So many things fell apart– my education, my relationship, my sense of self-worth. What should I aspire to be in a world whose rules were written to reject me before I drew my first breath?

Ten years later, I have found some peace. Things are not better outside of me, but inside I have learned to see past the blinding rage. I have adapted to the bitter taste of resentment. I no longer gasp in horror when the world plays out like it always has. I am no longer naive.

The world was on fire then, and it is on fire now. We were creatures of the forest, believing there was no fire because it did not touch us. It will burn until long after our bones join the ashes. Our role is to plant something that will grow in our place. Something that can drink from our water, once it is abundant and clean again. Something that will uncover our histories and languages, and reproduce itself with the lessons we failed to learn.

Ten years ago, I was afraid of being burned. Now, I breathe fire.