The Art of Vulnerability by 826LA

the art of vulnerability Written by the students of Ms. McGrath’s Creative Writing class at Theodore Roosevelt High School Fall 2022

the art of vulnerability

This book was written by the students of Ms. McGrath’s Creative Writing class at Theodore Roosevelt High School in Fall 2022. The views expressed in this book are the authors’ and do not necessarily reflect those of 826LA. We support student publishing and are thrilled you picked up this book. Las opiniones expresadas en este libro son las de los autores y no reflejan necesariamente las de 826LA. Apoyamos la publicación de jóvenes autores y estamos felices que haya recogido este libro. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher. Editors: Angelica Butiu-Coronado Cassandra McGrath Cover Artwork: Jenny Velasquez Mariana Gomez Zine Design: Puicón-Pérez for 826LA

Echo Park 1714 W. Sunset Blvd Los Angeles, CA 90026

Mar Vista 12515 Venice Blvd. Los Angeles, CA 90066

Written by the students of Ms. McGrath’s Creative Writing class at Theodore Roosevelt High School Fall 2022

contents Introduction By Cassandra McGrath ……………………………… 7 Paintbrush, Jenny V. …………………………………………… 8 Perfect, Mariana G. ……………………………………………… 10 The Trip to Self Love, Karime C. ……………………………… 12 Beautiful Bloom, Mariana G. ………………………………… 14 The Confined Peacock, Kenya G. …………………………… 16 The Steps to a Blue Smokey Eye, Bettany H. ……………… 18 The Night Light, Karime C. …………………………………… 20 San Benito, Jesus C. …………………………………………… 22 Corazón de Tlayuda, Kenya G. ……………………………… 24 The Cage We Share, Jesus C. ………………………………… 26 Lovely Soul, Desiree C. ………………………………………… 28 Dear Dad, Bettany H. …………………………………………… 30 God Bless You, Desiree C. ……………………………………… 32 My Way Home, Jenny V. ……………………………………… 34 Author Biographies …………………………………………… 36 Recognitions …………………………………………………… 41 About 826LA …………………………………………………… 42

introduction By Cassandra McGrath In The Art of Vulnerability, you will find deeply personal writing from seven young poets sharing their hearts, minds and stories with you. Over the past several months, these remarkable students created a safe space in which they shared their innermost thoughts, fears and yearnings with one another. In this environment, students learned that there is no such thing as a “perfect” poem, that it is freeing to talk about painful moments in your life, and that strength lies within vulnerability. Students wrote personal stories and read authors including Ada Limon, Elizabeth Acevedo and Anne Lamott. Students created cultural monologues with the collaboration of the Geffen Playhouse, some of which are included in this book. Students learned that sharing creative ideas is liberating, and they hope you will be empowered to speak your truth. Special thanks to Tara Ricasa and BJ Lange from the Geffen Playhouse, Angelica Butiu-Coronado and volunteers from 826LA, and to brave young people everywhere. Everyone has a story worth telling.

Paintbru sh

Jen n y V.

Art is created with a thing called the paintbrush. Digging through the dirty bottom of my purse to get that last cent I needed to buy a paintbrush at the corner store Waiting impatiently for the transaction to be over. Fidgeting with the strap of my purse as the bag is handed to me. I take out my paintbrush. The expression on my face, the focus of my hands. The determination to open that plastic sealed case. The rustling sound, struggling to get the packet open. The love that I have, you can see it in my eyes. Or maybe in the tears on my face. Or the fear that’s causing me to shake. Not knowing what I’m about to create.

The impatience to open the gateway to my freedom. The feeling of each and every one of the brushes’ bristles causes the tips of my fingers to become softer and softer. My mind feels like a motor. Thoughts coming in and out. Thoughts that were once unconscious become conscious. You see, the paintbrush is not only an object. It is your one friend who fears nothing. It is that adrenaline you get when you see the person you love. The connection I have with something so small and light that can create so much. All those times when I was too scared to say how I really felt out loud. I plastered paint on the canvas. I sometimes wonder when I became an artist. I thought the power was in the brush. I’ve learned that the paintbrush can only meet you halfway. It was never the stick with bristles glued to the tip. It was that mind like a motor. It was me all along.

Perfect

Ma r i an a G .

I used to hate myself, My body, everything about it My scars, tiger stripes, how clothing looked on me. I got picked on and I wanted to change to be happy So others could stop hating me It took years to overcome the intrusive thoughts of the past Now I’m here, loving me, Here to help you love yourself.

They’re nobodies They don’t see your worth But I see it. I’ve been there many times I didn’t give up. Getting rid of your scars, tiger stripes, and love handles won’t change who you are They make you a beautiful person Deserving of all the love and happiness in the world Forget everyone who doesn’t love your marks You’re perfect just the way you are.

To those who have been mistreated by others Because they say you’re not perfect, Out of your life they go. Just because you’re not like those girls on Instagram Like those with millions of followers Like those who make fun of you at school Like those who dump you because you’re not their type

The Trip to Self Love

K ar i m e C .

I scroll and swipe and I’m still not satisfied with what I see I get upset and sad without feeling the accomplishment of finding that photo I hold up my phone in different angles as the frustration in my body rises Insecurities fill my brain with harsh comments

Finally! I found the picture. My smile is symmetrical, my eyes match each others’ shape I’m ready to prove I can meet everyone’s standards, even my own But something is off and I can’t seem to figure it out Once again my brain fills up with harsh comments It’s a loop that I’m stuck in I want to escape it I want to be true to myself My body and my beauty is my temple This voyage will soon come to an end And I will learn to love the reflection I see.

Feeling like my brain is my own enemy I thought we worked together; sadly, I guess not. We were so positive about what we had observed in the camera Now the camera hates us. Or do we hate the camera?

Beautiful Bloom

Ma r i an a G .

Inspired by the Pongo Poetry Project

You see the happiness, laughter and smiles You see me making friends left and right You see my confidence, rocking my style But you don’t know me. You don’t know how hard my life is Inside is pain, loneliness, depression Being around people makes me happy Until I shut down and want to be alone Shy and quiet, only outgoing with close friends Insecure, looking for a path towards confidence

Some people think I’m a serious person But I’m exactly the opposite: a bubbly person hiding private pain of the past I’m serious because I was taught to be that way My emotions bottled up from having no trust with my parents They were taught to be emotionless; Having feelings is “no good” in their eyes They grew up very different from me I’m from a new generation I want to understand why my parents don’t like the way I am You don’t know me. You don’t see that when I’m happy, a beautiful flower comes out Overshadowing the withering bloom of the past Covered in trauma, darkness, and pain, yet blooming blue, purple, pink, red, burgundy many different colors that express who I truly am.

The Confined Peacock

Ken y a G .

Losing sight of my classmates I saw you inside a black hexagonal cage Observing the outside world within your confined space My four-year-old instinct was to reach and place my hand Between the barrier you and I share and disturb you

I’ll never forget the beautiful array of colors your feathers displayed as I ran in search for my class I’ll never forget how I felt like I’ve been in a cage Pressured to show my true self in the most unexpected of times To reveal who I truly love A love that doesn’t involve a prince Instead a love with two princesses. When I finally let it out, I flourish With all my true colors.

I’ll never forget the panic it caused you What it caused you to do As I stared at you in awe Feathers collectively flourishing Showing me unity Greens, blues, whites, purples

The Steps to a Blue Smokey Eye

Be t tan y H .

Step 1: I prepare the eyelid, adding eyeshadow primer. I focus on graduation, making sure I’m going to class everyday and doing my work.

Step 3: I blend the brown upwards in circular motions and pack blue eyeshadow onto the lid. I start to look at colleges even though I’m not excited about it. I remind myself what I want in the future, which is to make my mom proud and return back what she has always done for me. Step 4: I add a pearly white shimmer over the blue shadow for a holographic look. I listen to my mom’s inspiring words and stories she tells me to realize what is best for me. And how she hopes I will be the first to go to college and graduate. Step 5: Finally I drag the dark brown to the waterline, smudging it back and forth to give it a smoky look. At last, I take a step back and admire my work. I hope to see myself grow and show my mom I can do this without letting her down.

Step 2: I grab a small blending brush, packing a really dark brown in the outer corner. I go to my math class, giving it my best because it’s the hardest one and reassuring myself to not give up.

The Night Light

K ar i m e C .

I hated the pitch black room. That little bright object is my comfort in that one bedroom garage. I still remember the little light bulb with the Disney princess on it, pink and sparkling. I remember 4-year-old me, walking home that suburban day, and my mom explaining how that object would erase all my fears that night. As it got darker outside I wanted to see if it was true.

My mom shut the lights off and plugged it in, and quietly told me a story. It was about how Snow White’s step mom wanted to kill her. I loved that the dwarves took care of Snow White without fully knowing her, how they put all of their beds together and let her sleep peacefully. My mom reminded me of those dwarves She wanted me to get a good night’s sleep without having nightmares. That night, as my mom ended the fairy tale with the prince kissing Snow White, I felt comfort in the amount of light in the room and I fell asleep. After that I needed my nightlight every night, and it wasn’t because I feared the dark; it was my reminder that I knew I could wake up in the middle of the night and ask my mom to retell me Snow White’s tale. Even though not all of my fears went away in the night I knew my mom’s presence was there like a bright light in the room.

San Benito

Jes u s C .

“Santísimo confesor del Señor; Padre y jefe de los monjes, interceded por nuestra santidad, por nuestra salud del alma, cuerpo y mente.” As I come home from school one day, my mother opens the door for me. I open my closet and throw my backpack in there like the reckless third grader I am. My mom walks towards me and gives me a soft bracelet. It had a woven red cord with a silver medal of San Benito. The bracelet always made me feel closer to my mother. It reminded me of her care and love for me, the best mother that I could have ever asked for.

My bracelet also made me feel more connected to my Mexican culture. I know that my people in Mexico are very religious. It reminds me of what my Dad told me, When he did his first communion in Mexico his neighbors threw him a party. “La gente en México son muy unidos,” he said. The people in Mexico are very united. Each time I tightened my bracelet around my wrist I felt more complete. More whole. When I grew out of it, I felt sort of empty. Like a part of me was missing. But my mother told me something that was very important and always stuck with me. I don’t need a bracelet to know that she was with me. As long as I am living, she will always be there. El protector del maligno espíritu will always be protecting me. “Destierra de nuestra vida, de nuestra casa, las asechanzas del maligno espíritu.”

Corazón de Tlayuda

Ken y a G .

Large, thinly toasted tortilla. Covered con frijoles, quesillo, repollo o lechuga. Choose your destiny. Topped off with queso fresco. And that tasajo. Each bite now gives me melancholic nostalgia, taking me back to each moment I shared with you.

Seeing a tlayuda brings me back to when you would visit and hand over a fresh one to your brother, my dad. You had him make one for you. You sat in awe staring at him, reminiscing on those days spent at Oaxaca with him by your side. You really loved my dad’s cooking. You would eat any dish he made for you, especially tlayudas. I’ll always carry that significance of the tlayuda, that memory of you. Of the large, thinly toasted tortilla. Covered con frijoles, quesillo, repollo, o lechuga con el queso fresco y ese tasajo. Siempre en mi corazón.

That last memory of you, chasing me with a June bug on your hand, that mellow Sunday. The lingering scent of recently made carne asada surrounding our small, grassy yard. You turned to me, telling me to hold it, but I was too afraid. “No te va hacer nada,’’ you tell me.

The Cage We Share

Jes u s C .

“Look, it’s a cheetah!” a little boy says, as I read the sign that says “ocelot.” The ocelot is pacing in his cage. His cage may look big enough to the casual observer but inside, you realize that it’s smaller than you think. Left, right, up, down. He stops and looks at me with his yellow eyes. It is quick, but at this moment there is communication. We understand each other. We are both always called something that we are not. My own people doubt my ethnicity because of the color of my skin. It makes me feel like an outcast, like I’m in a cage, separated from everyone else.

We are both trapped, growing more frustrated by the second. He jumps onto the branch and looks up at the roof of the cage. He marches through the patchy grass. The chirping of the birds plays on the speakers. The scenery is nothing more than an illusion to make him think he is at home. His wicked growl is a death metal vocalization, a call for help. Left, right, up, down. No matter how much he sprints, jumps, and climbs, we are still in the same place, Feeling hopeless, with no progress made. Like a nightmare where you run as fast as you can but stay in place the whole time. He is trapped, I am trapped. His cage, My mind. Yet we keep trying and trying until some day, he and I will break free and experience life without obeying the rules that are made for a man and finally prosper with a new and liberated mind.

Lovely Soul

Des i ree C .

Inspired by the Pongo Poetry Project

You see that I curse a lot You see that I never let others talk down to me But you don’t know me You would know me if you knew how hard it is to show my emotions, How I hold in my tears when I get upset. How I’m afraid that people will take advantage of my kindness. How sensitive my emotions are You see that I go out to parties and dance You see that I babysit seven kids, cooking whatever is in the fridge, for them But you don’t know me. You would know me if you knew I had to give up my childhood Taking care of the little ones. How I hide my feelings How I love sunflowers How I am a lovely soul But I just don’t show it.

Dear Dad

Be t tan y H .

Inspired by the Pongo Poetry Project

Dear Dad, I just thought you should know what I’m doing now. I grew up to be a strong person. I thought you should know that I’m very happy and proud of how far I’ve come without you.

I miss you everyday, wishing to be able to see you again. Waiting anxiously to see if one day you will think about coming back for me. Until then I will stay strong and become a less fearful person, continuing to grow without you.

Although I’ve come so far, learning and experiencing new things, I really wish you could have seen it. I know I could have used your company and love. The last time I saw you it left me heartbroken. Not knowing if I’ll ever see you again. Not knowing if I will still have a father. Not knowing if you still love me.

God Ble ss You

Des i ree C .

Inspired by “Rat Ode” by Elizabeth Acevedo Because they see a dirty man They ignore you and wrinkle their noses Your presence is invisible, but your respectfulness isn’t. You softly greet everyone, “Good morning!” as they rush by you to catch their bus, reaching into their pockets to hold their valuables. They judge your stains, hygiene, dirty clothes, bare feet, filthy hands. But they don’t see your kindness when you hold open the door of the liquor store.

People call the cops because they think you look harmful, pushing around that shopping cart Filled with your cozy jacket, mismatched shoes, and your favorite blanket The one with the Virgin Mary printed on it You pray to her before you go to sleep, warm and cozy, so she will protect you through the night. You talk to yourself but You communicate with the voices inside your head You look mean, but you tell everyone “God Bless You”

Because you create a home behind buildings, sidewalks, and freeways doesn’t mean you’re a cruel person. It means you’re just trying to be as safe and comfortable as everybody else. Having a serious look on your face doesn’t mean you’re a bad guy. Screaming out loud in the streets doesn’t mean you’re losing your mind. You’re expressing your feelings because you have no one to talk to.

My Way Home

Jen n y V.

I am both the candle and the match I know how to come back from the brink I have accomplished the impossible I bring all of who I am I remember a time when happiness was all I knew I am from a family who strives for better I have met a higher self once I am from places where prayers come true I have seen lost souls I have learned that there is comfort in standing still I wish I had all the time in the world I desire the bounty without the struggle I deserve peace within and the spark of enlightenment I love the stillness of the flame I am both a match and a candle And one day I will light my way back home

Bettany H.

Bettany H. is a 17 year old senior at Roosevelt Senior High, raised in Boyle Heights. She loves to transform people’s appearances through the art of makeup. She is a very positive, outgoing person who loves to laugh and have a good time with everyone. She hopes this book can help others to share their stories and care less what other people think.

about the authors

D e s ire e C .

Desiree C. is a 17 year old girl who attends Roosevelt High School in Boyle Heights. She loves to go out and spend time with family and friends. At first she wasn’t inspired by this whole creative writing class but throughout the semester she realized that she can express her feelings. She used her imagination to create stories she never thought she would ever write. As Desiree would say, “Just do it—write and express your feelings—you never know what you will create.”

J e nny V.

Jenny V. is a 17 year old from Boyle Heights. She has a strong passion for the creative arts, including painting, design, and poetry. In her poetry she loves to write about her own personal thoughts, emotions, and fears. She hopes to create a sense of hope and comfort with her writing.

Ken y a G . Jesus C.

Jesus C. is a 17 year old from Los Angeles, California. He enjoys cycling with his friends in the streets of LA and playing video games. At first Jesus thought he was not very creative but he quickly realized that there is no correct way to be an artist. Jesus loves expressing himself through his writing and hopes to inspire others to do the same.

K a rim e C .

Karime C. is a 17 year old born in Jilotepec, Mexico and raised in Boyle Heights. She loves walks, astronomy, and nature. Everything that surrounds her must have meaning, and the smallest details stand out to her. Her inspiration for writing comes from novels where she likes to add on without having to worry about basing her writing off something specifically. She is a photographer and enjoys this form of self-expression. In the past she has received awards for sharing her art at Oxy Art and reading her speeches to the community. She hopes to share inner peace through her writing.

Kenya G. is a 17 year old writer born and raised in Koreatown, LA. During her free time she enjoys reading and being outdoors with her two older siblings. Kenya wants to inspire readers and fellow writers to be unapologetic about themselves and their craft. She was also part of the 6th edition of Roosevelt High School’s Ethnic Studies publication project, Finding Our Way with 826LA.

Ma ria n a G .

Mariana G. is a senior at Roosevelt Senior High, born and raised in Boyle Heights and a proud Jalisciense. She loves to create art, read and write poetry. She like to write about her own experiences that express vulnerability. She wants to inspire other young people to express their hidden emotions and communicate them to the world.

C as s a n d ra Mc G ra t h

Cassandra McGrath is a 15-year veteran of LAUSD who is National Board Certified and loves teaching at Roosevelt High School. She is also a writer and musician, and finds meaning in helping her amazing students share their stories with the world.

R e cognitions Thank you to the 826LA staff and volunteers who had the pleasure of working with this cohort of brilliant minds and expressive souls.

C h e ry l K le in Erik a H e r na n e z B urk e S us a n S im o n

A special thank you to our partners from the Geffen Playhouse and our teaching artists,

Ta ra R ic a s a B J La n g e , & B ria n Allm a n.

abou t 82 6 LA 8 2 6LA o p ened our door s i n 2 0 05, a s p ar t of the 82 6 N etw or k fo u nd e d b y wr i ter Dave Egger s a n d e d uc ator Níni ve Cal egar i . 826LA is a non-profit organization dedicated to supporting students ages 6 to 18 who attend Title I schools with their creative and expository writing skills, and to helping teachers inspire their students to write. We believe great leaps in learning can happen with one-on-one attention, and that strong writing skills are fundamental to future success. All of our programs are challenging and enjoyable, and strengthen each student’s power to express ideas creatively, confidently, and in their individual voice.

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826LA pro gram s 826LA offers a variety of in-person and virtual programming.

T ut or ing Volunteers provide in-person, one-on-one homework help to support students as they navigate all subject areas. Write On! After School supports younger students, while Tuesday and Thursday Night Tutoring supports middle and high school students.

Field T r ips Our roster of virtual and in-person field trips includes Storytelling & Bookmaking, Well-Wishing & Poetry Writing, Choose-Your-Own- Adventure, and more.

I n-Sc hools, Wr it er s’ Rooms, & C olleg e A c c ess We provide personal statement writing support for college applications at Manual Arts, Roosevelt, and Venice High Schools and a number of other partner schools, as well as via the Great Los Angeles Personal Statement Weekend event. 826LA staff and volunteers work with teachers to support creative writing projects in the virtual classroom.

8 2 6 la .or g

826L A st a ff Jaime Balboa Executive Director Diego Quevedo Chief of Staff Shani Foster Director of Education Shawn Silver Director of Advancement Cheryl Klein Senior Communications Manager Pedro Estrada Programs & Operations Manager, Echo Park

LaTesha Knighten In-Schools Program Manager Megan Acosta Senior Manager of Volunteer Programs Alma Carrillo Development Manager Christie Thomas Institutional Giving Manager Carinne Mangold Store Manager Puicón-Pérez Design Manager

William Trlak Program Coordinator, Writers’ Room at Manual Arts High School Maricruz Pool-Chan Program Coordinator, Tutoring, Echo Park Monica Arellano Program Coordinator, Tutoring, Mar Vista Maddie Silva Program Coordinator, Field Trips, Mar Vista Mari Zerbe Program Coordinator, Field Trips, Echo Park

Mike Dunbar Programs & Operations Manager, Mar Vista

Angelica Butiu-Coronado Program Coordinator, Writers’ Room Roosevelt High School

Ariana Ponce Evening Tutoring Programs Associate

BO A RD OF D IR E C T O R S

Andy Alcaraz

ADVISORY B OARD

Susan Ko President Sarah Rosenwald Varet Vice President Nancy Yang Treasurer Chad DePue Secretary

Ben Au Adriana Centeno Matthew Cherniss Dave Eggers, Emeritus Jodie Evans, Emeritus Scott A. Ginsburg Eileen Shields Belinda Tan Holly A. Thomas David Ullendorff Karen Van Kirk

J.J. Abrams Judd Apatow Miguel Arteta Mac Barnett Steve Barr Joshuah Bearman Amy Brooks Father Greg Boyle, SJ Stefan G. Bucher Mark Flanagan Ben Goldhirsh Rebecca Goldman

Erika Hernandez Burke In-Schools Program Volunteer Coordinator Wilson Swain Echo Park Time Travel Mart Staff Cole Montgomery Development Coordinator Larry Hansen Mar Vista Time Travel Mart Staff Marco Beltran Echo Park Time Travel Mart Staff

Al Madrigal Krystyn Madrigal Tara Roth Katie McGrath R. Scott Mitchell Lani Monos B.J. Novak Miwa Okumura Jane Patterson Keri Putnam Sylvie Rabineau Sonja Rasula Luis J. Rodriguez

Ellen Goldsmith-Vein

Terri Hernandez Rosales

DeAnna Gravillis

Brad Simpson

Spike Jonze

J. Ryan Stradal

Miranda July

Natalie Tran

Catherine Keener

Sarah Vowell

Keith Knight

Sally Willcox