Reflection can be external (an image reflected back to you) or internal (thinking with care). But can it be both? What if seeing ourselves in and through others helps us think more deeply? While you read this selection from Anthology 6, consider what is familiar to you, and what causes you to stop and ponder. Other people can show us who we are and who we could be—help us see things from the outside, from a different angle. Join Kyle, Tash, Rosalyn, Chanda, Carol, and Keyssh as they offer these views of past and present, sorrow and joy, art and life... holding up mirrors to experience.
ON TRIPOD Kyle Howey and Natasha Hajo
NH: The end here always feels the same— breathing out, lots of love, scrambling to find the words. Telling the story of us. KH: It began with realizing I was becoming a part of this community. I didn’t know that these writers of all kinds - high school students, Drexel students, seniors I’d never met before—would soon become close friends. NH: What I did at Writers Room during my time as a student armed me with the ability to look in and through. I began taking note of reflections—my own and others’—in places and people and feelings. I used writing to find the overlap. I made a home of it. KH: Writers Room found me at a time when I didn’t know what I needed. I was a sophomore at Drexel, newly an English major, returning to writing, and quietly unsure of where my interests were taking me. I remember feeling both nervous and relieved at the prospect of something new. At first, some of us tiptoed around our differences. Others dove right into what matters, despite them. But in the end, we understood what wonderful things are made together.
2 Devin Welsh
Anthology 6
NH: I found myself moving differently this year as an ArtistYear Fellow. Still, I pulled from what I learned in Writers Room and brought it into a new space. I connected, shared, and laughed with students. I listened to what was said and heard what wasn’t. I tried to be like the people I’d previously been surrounded by: pillars of support who make you, who made me, feel seen. KH: Now, Tripod, in its third year, continues to evolve – and it should. No longer a student but a guide as the Alumni Fellow, I get to see new faces, new stories, and new journeys. They impart themselves in their work—what they’ve learned. And I learn from them. I see new faith in art. New generations thinking, speaking, acting with intention. Filling the spaces that need to be filled. NH: What I learned in my new role is the people who know your story will always bring you back to yourself. KH: I hope that in this often random world, they hold onto the memories they’ve made here for all of us. They come to listen and be heard. They come to learn and to inspire others. They know that to make a mark here is not just to leave a name, but to be a part of the story. 3
Reflection
SEEING MY SELF FOR THE FIRST TIME Rosalyn Cliett
We can see one another But you can’t see self until you have been mirrored Seeing my image Through the still clear blue water Didn’t recognize the image staring at me She was beautiful Despite the names she was called It uplifted her Countenance to smile much more
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Reflection
Niyai Walker Cruz
UNTITLED Keyssh Datts
one or two steps in the mirror in front of my tears with looks of night mares and i fear i’m trapped in this glare but i know it reflects what perhaps isn’t there so i screen have you ever felt this pain that your trapped in this dream but no one else in there colden days turned my days turned my day dreams to nightmares and i tried to numb pain but my pain was cold with fear
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ACCEPTIN CHRIST Chanda Rice
I had done my homework in school. So I can tidy up before I go down the street to Ms. Carol’s. She tells us how Jesus loves us and we sing songs. I can feel the breeze come through the door. Mr. George is sitting in the corner looking at us. She has printed out papers for us to work on and color. We all are laying on the floor. After Bible Study, she gives us cookies. Down the street at Ms. Carol’s house for Bible Study. It is 4:00 in the evening. It’s summertime. The sunlight is coming through the window. It warm. It smells like cookies. We are holding hands in a circle praying. I am here for Bible study. We are praying. We are in a circle. Nothing, my eyes are closed. A piano. A rug. A ceiling.
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Reflection
REFLECTION ON ORTIZ AND HER WORK Carol Richardson McCullough
I am both humbled and amazed at the image of the little Black girl standing in her side yard by her house on the corner oat the top of a hill long ago because that girl painted in shades of brown, gold, and earthen tones on the spectrum between those two colors, was me when I was about seven years old. The hands, showing the wrinkles of time’s passage, are mine now, painted holding the snapshot while reflecting on my Home. Michelle Ortiz thinks big while never losing sight of the little people and the smaller details. She recognizes the importance of it all in the Big Picture. Who knows where Michelle will be, or what she will be doing next week? But I do not doubt that on some level, it will be a continuation of The Work she has committed her energies and talents to doing, addressing profound issues while opening minds and sensitizing hearts through beautifully powerful images and the dialogue around them. She is bold, brave, and intentional. Her work is both prolific and profound. Her work, The Work, goes on. She never stops. Once thought-filled people become inspired and encouraged, words can be put into action. Action can change the world if its actors are bold enough, brave enough, and intentional enough to never stop working towards the goal. Anthology 6
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ColibrĂ Workshop
