CAMBIA WRITERS IN THE SCHOOLS 2021
CAMBIA WRITERS IN THE SCHOOLS 2021
CAMBIA cambium \kam-bē-əm\ noun plural cambia, \-bē-ə\ The live, actively growing, layer of a tree. The cambium is one cell thick. It repeatedly divides itself to form new wood and causes the tree to grow and expand.
This is a Log Cabin Book, an imprint of THE CABIN 801 South Capitol Boulevard, Boise, Idaho 83702 (208) 331-8000 thecabinidaho.org (c) 2021 The Cabin All rights reserved. Book design by Jocelyn Robertson Printed and bound in the USA in an edition of 100 copies.
WRITERS IN THE SCHOOLS RESIDENCIES ARE MADE POSSIBLE BY GENEROUS SUPPORT FROM: ArTPack First Interstate Bank Idaho Commission on the Arts J. R. Simplot Foundation Laura Moore Cunningham Foundation National Endowment for the Arts
WE EXTEND SINCERE THANKS TO THE FACULTY AND ADMINISTRATION OF: Ada County Juvenile Court Services Frank Church High School Rose Hill Montessori School Sage International School Southwest Idaho Juvenile Detention Center Tat Elementary School
CONTENTS Introduction • 1 SAGE INTERNATIONAL SCHOOL • 3 ROSE HILL MONTESSORI SCHOOL • 17 FRANK CHURCH HIGH SCHOOL • 25 ADA COUNTY JUVENILE DETENTION CENTER • 33 SOUTHWEST IDAHO JUVENILE DETENTION CENTER • 51 Teaching-Writer Biographies • 59 About The Cabin • 61 Index • 63
INTRODUCTION One of the key components of a Writers in the Schools, or WITS, lesson is the incorporation of an example text. Usually written by a contemporary poet or author, this text shows students how a literary device can be used in a way that feels efortless. It also exposes them to the tradition of what came before — in addition to showing students what can be written, it gives them an idea of what has been written and enjoyed. I ind that while I don’t look back at the literary canon(s) perhaps as much as would beneit my writing, as someone new to this job at The Cabin, I apply the use of example texts almost daily. If 2020-21 were a normal school year, I would have paged through each back issue of Cambia to see what students, teaching-writers, and program managers before me produced. I would have studied the expectations and igured out how to deliver on them enough to make the anthology familiar and how to deviate from them enough to keep things interesting. But of course, I didn’t need to read 20 back issues of Cambia to igure out that this year of WITS was unlike any other. Besides maybe an Octavia Butler story or two, there was nary an example text that could prepare us for how most of us would wake up each morning this year, let alone teach writing during a global pandemic. We couldn’t step foot in most of our residency schools, so our teaching-writers had to innovate ways to inspire students to tell their important stories via iPad, or in the case of one of our residency sites, through a single laptop propped on a desk in the front of the classroom. School administrators scanned student poems so our teaching-writers could type heartfelt letters to the students, encouraging their skills and their bravery. And this, of course, has been the one constant of WITS, pandemic or no pandemic. The young writers published in this anthology continued to be creative and unapologetic thinkers, 1
feelers, and experimenters. They understand how literature can deliver them from coninement for at least a moment, whether they’re being restricted by the terror of ambiguity, the pandemic, or actual incarceration. In their poems and stories, they visit the zoo, the mall, the woods, the past. I feel transported as I read their writing, as I’m sure you will as well. It’s our pleasure to share with you our favorite poems and stories imagined by WITS writers this year. – Megan Williams, Program Manager
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SAGE INTERNATIONAL SCHOOL Teaching-Writers Emily Pittinos and Chris Mathers Jackson
PAINT ME A PORTRAIT Adee Use red the color of the bull for bulls are strong and sturdy Make a hoop of sticks, twigs, for kids to play with Make meadows all around for dogs to play and friends to run Let kids play basketball wearing red jerseys Let me wear 23 for he is my idol Let hammocks be hung in trees far and wide With books all around and clouds loating by Let me be holding the ball and a book in my hand My friends all laughing and no one sad Have wonderful waters lowing nearby with mountain top in the distance towering above Let this place be colorful and bright with not a frown in sight Let it be a happy place of friends galore Is this too much to ask? All I want is for this moment to be framed in glass
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ZOO DAY Maisie
One aternoon I was taken by my father to the zoo. I didn’t want to go because of the wind blasting towards my face and the chilly weather getting through my salmon pink and yellow sweatshirt. My dad was going on and on about the zoo’s history. “Ugh, dad lectures,” I thought. I decided to ignore him and try to enjoy myself. Luckily, I brought my book everywhere I go, so I started to read that instead of listening. Suddenly I heard a loud roaring that was coming from the nearby path that leads to the lions, tigers, bobcats, and snow leopards. I quickly stood up from my seat and ran over there as I let my book and my dad had a very surprised look as I ran to the pathway. When I got there I could see all the majestic animals a few feet around me. When I faced the glass cage I saw a bright red fox sneakily inding its way around the cage. Around the other corner I saw a similar cage to the foxes, except there were maybe two to three bobcats in the cage. They were all a kind of grey and brown with silky fur. I heard then my dad call my name and I knew that he was going to give me another lecture about manners. But boy was I wrong. He started talking about how the animals were endangered and how he was happy that I was curious and excited about the zoo. I had an astonished look on my face and out of the blue said, “You’re not mad!?” “Why would I be?” he responded. “I don’t l know,” I said, chuckling at myself. An hour later my dad said that we had to leave but I didn’t want to. He practically had to drag me! “We can come back next weekend,” dad said. “I’m so excited for next week to come around. I just wanted to see the powerful lions, or ohh I know, the sly foxes, no, the careful snow leopards, ok, I can’t choose anymore.” And as we rode in the car back home all I could hear was my dad laughing at me.
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NATURE WALK Molly The sun shines brightly through the leaves on the trees. It relects the vein-like features that rest inside the leaves upon the forest loor. Birds chirp their beautiful song, the harmony that is so natural is the most beautiful. Before long I hear rustling, and the branches of the bushes move switly. I bend down so sotly it is like the animal is unaware of my curiousness and every move. Slowly a small bunny peers out. Its dusty white fur is still so clean even from fending in the forest. The moment it lays eyes on me it does not hop away, but it runs away. Deep into the bush the bunny goes. I lean in closer until the dewy smell of fresh earth creeps into my nose. I feel one with nature and the world.
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DRAGON BATTLE Bastien Once upon a time, there were three warrior adventurers named Ronin (me), Salazar, and Aaron. We were going to ight a giant dragon in a large battle arena that was boxed in so the dragon doesn’t escape. The battle arena was a huge canyon with steep walls and no water. The crowd had a protective shield to keep from getting hurt. It had cracks on the ground from battles that had taken place before. While we were walking around the canyon, I said, “Let’s split up in the canyon to ind this dragon to defeat, but if you ind it, run for your lives. While you run for your lives, launch a rocket in the air so that we can ind you. I have to go climb the tallest part of the rocky canyon for the inishing strike. Also, try not to die. That would be kind of bad.” “Ok, but why do you get to do the inal hit?” Salazar and Aaron asked at the same time. “Because I called it irst and because I felt like it, so yeah….” I started to climb, but some of the rocks started to shake and some sharp broken glass fell of, but I didn’t let it stop me climbing. When I got to the top, the dragon’s talons broke into the ground, which split with a loud cracking sound. The crowd cheered and shouted as they saw I had reached the inal challenge. I heard a dragon’s wings lapping as it noticed me too and readied for battle. It roared with a terrible scream. The dragon shot up into the air and stared down at me. It smelled old, like it got sprayed by a skunk or like it hasn’t properly cleaned itself in months. The dragon was going to try to crush me under its huge form, but I got away just in time, rolling to the right. When the dragon crashed into the ground, I could feel the razor sharp scales piercing the hard rocks on the ground through vibrations in the soil. I slashed at the dragon with my sword, and the sword vibrated so hard it felt hot, like you wanted to throw it away to not get burned. I inally got the chance to take my signaling rocket and lit it. Ater that, I jumped down the canyon and grabbed onto a branch that stuck out. My team waited at the bottom of the clifside. When I climbed down, Salazar and Aaron asked me,“Hello Ronin! Need some help slaying that dragon?” Ronin said, “Yeah, that would be pretty handy.” We climbed back up to the top of the clif. Salazar and 8
Aaron and I saw a gigantic pair of spiky turquoise wings, the leather-like webbing between its wings thick with veins. Its neck was long and slender and plated with thick armor at the throat. The spikes on its neck were short, thin, sharp, with webbing between them like the wings. Its head had a pair of long, dull spikes that were dark and horn-like spikes on its head, like the ones on a bull only duller. Its black eyes were small and beady. I could see a trace of fear in them, like it was scared of us. It let loose a great ball of ire from its throat and the smoke coming of it had a stinky, acidic smell of death. It roasted the shield above our head, the one that protected the watching fans from a iery death.
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THE GIRL Piper The day was warm and bright at the zoo. I could feel the animals’ pain as I walked down the prison for the animals. I felt bad. I never thought that I could see a girl looking out onto the pond. With her thick wavy strawberry blonde hair glowing in the sun. As I walked up to her I could smell her rose perfume when the wind blew. I came up to her and asked her some questions. When she was speaking to me, her calm voice felt like the world was stopping and it was just me and her. She told me that her favorite place is the beach and she wished that she could be there every day. I asked her if she had a dog. “Not any more,” she said. I was in pain when she told me that her dog died in her arms when she was little. Her tears dripped down her face. I looked at her and said, “ Don’t worry it will be ok. How about we go look at some animals.” “Ok,” she said. We walked of to see the animals.
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ALIVE AT THE ZOO Sala They feel alive in the zoo. Almost as if they belong there, as if that is their home. They run around and hug every animal. They consider stopping as they look crazy. But the love for animals keeps them going. They are like a kid at a candy store. They love meeting new animals. They have no stress in the world when they are at the zoo. Almost as if they are on laughing gas. They grab sticks and rocks and leaves. They go home and look at these things very closely. They note that the rocks have holes in them. Why do they have holes in them, they wonder. The stick looks like it has hair on it, they note that down as well. The leaves all have a diferent pattern on them. Just like our ingerprints, they write down.
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A DAY AT THE ZOO Juniper For the record, it wasn’t my fault. Well, it was not entirely my fault. It was the 14th of August. The day before my birthday. I was bored and the day so far was terribly dull. I wanted to do something exciting, something fun, something… not boring. I had an idea, an idea that later I would regret with my entire being. I wanted to go to the zoo. Since I was sixteen (seventeen the next day) I could drive there myself. My mom told me to bring along my little sister, April. I was secretly annoyed, but I knew if I said anything, I would get into trouble. “August?” my sister asked. “Yeah?” “Are we going to the new walk-in exhibit? “That’s the plan.” We inally arrived at the zoo, and I took out our family’s zoo membership card and lashed it to the woman working at the administration stand. She nodded, and the guard opened the zoo gates. “Okay we just need to ind the exhibit,” I said, staring at the pamphlet. “I think it is this way,” April replied, pointing toward the west wing of the zoo. There was indeed a sign that pointed to the exhibit. So, as any normal visitor would do, we walked that way. The exhibit was a large, new built looking metal cage with various animals in it. There was a sleeping lion, two radiant gazelles, and many other animals that I have no idea the names of. A voice startled me from my gaze at the animals before me. “Hi, I’m Zoey. Are you here for the exhibit tour?” A voice said. I spun around, and a girl about my age smiled at me. She had long brown hair pulled into a tight bun. She wore green shorts and a white short sleeve shirt with the Zoo logo on the front. Her blue eyes were majestic in the sun. “Uh, yeah,” I said, fumbling around in my pockets for my membership card “Oh no need, the exhibit is free anyway,” she said. 12
April and I followed the girl into the exhibit. We walked for a while, but then I stopped in horror. I saw the animal I feared most out of all things… rabbits. It was technically a hare, but in that moment I did not know the diference between and could care less. I screamed louder than I have ever in my entire life. April tried to rush me out of the exhibit but I was ten steps ahead of her, literally. Zoey ran ater me and my sister. My red curly hair lew in my face as I ran, trying to ind the exit. My black sweatshirt was getting hot, so mid-run, I unzipped it. I looked behind me, and before I knew it, I had crashed into the water machine that was near the eating area of the zoo. My shorts were soaked. Finally April and Zoey caught up to me. “Are you okay!?” Zoey said, holding out her hand. “I’m ine, just a little...wet.” Zoey laughed, and pulled me up from the ground. “What was your-” “August,” I replied.
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INSTRUCTIONS TO THE ARTIST Maggi Horses, running and bolting behind me. I’m on one, you see, a black and white paint horse. Looking like a white horse that was splattered with black paint. My long, naturally and a bit curly, but also bone straight, hair lying behind me as I ride along. I’m wearing a white t-shirt, light blue jean shorts, and light brown cowboy boots. I’m riding as my dog is behind me racing against the bolting horses and me. My dog has to be a golden color with some red hues. Her ears back as she runs through the sot, green grass. My cat, Siamese, sits on the rear end of the horse watching us bolt across the green grass. The horse herd, me, my horse, my cat, and my dog. I’m leaning forward, smiling as I focus on my horse. All of us are running through a smaller lake as water drops are lying up. I’m not riding with any tack except a bridle. The herd is in the background running a bit of a diferent direction then us. There are some far trees in the distance.
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THE CAMPING TURTLE Owen The camping turtle slowly trots through the campground curious about what he will do in the evening. He loves all of the fresh air. All of the neighbors are very quiet and welcoming and like to touch my shell. They also smell all around me. When walking around, I listen to all of the other campers and nature. When I’m done looking around and observing the campground daily, the majority of the time I will go into my camper. I will take a nap on my friend’s lap while my friend is playing cards or doing something with his friend, Kailyn. Ater that my owner or friend and I will take a walk by the river and occasionally go ishing. I watch all of the ish come up and I go swimming. Those are the best times for me to hang out with my best friend, Mike. Another day I’m by the river swimming and I wonder, “why don’t I live in the water?” But then I realize that I wouldn’t want anything diferent from my life now especially if it is without my best pal, Mike.
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A DAY AT THE ZOO Suhas One day there was a boy named Lamar. Lamar decided to go to the zoo. He was very excited to go to the zoo because he really wanted to see a Girafe. He brought a camera with him so he could take pictures of all of the animals. When he got there he just started looking for the Girafe. While he was looking he got lost in a dark cave. Lamar decided to explore in the cave. While he was looking around he found a dinosaur bone. Lamar decided to dig up the bones and keep them. When Lamar got home he put the dinosaur bones together. It ended up being a T-Rex. One day when he was sleeping, the bones turned into a real dinosaur. The dinosaur broke out of the house and ran back to the zoo. Lamar ran ater the dinosaur. He saw the dinosaur run back to the cave where he found the bones. Lamar decided to leave the dinosaur in the cave and he never saw him again.
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ROSE HILL MONTESSORI SCHOOL Teaching-Writer Elizabeth Barnes
ATTEMPT AT INTELLIGENCE Henry With my networked practices I use communal and proximal as nouns. My experienced list of moments. My intuition is valuable and quintessential I must ind the tangible form In the unknown igure I introduce rhetorical variables Salient interactions intensiied with shadows Meanwhile in San Francisco. Geocaching is an unoicial experience Within physically tagged descriptions. Audience requirements: Temporal and spatial elements. My experienced list of moments.
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CYCLE OF A BUTTERFLY (A POEM FOR TWO VOICES) Jack and Lev Hatching
Hatching
Eating Leaves In The Summer breeze Growing
Growing
Spinning silk Around me To make a cocoon Staying Growing Sleeping
Breaking Out
To make a cocoon
Staying Growing Sleeping Breaking Out
With big wings
Drying of
Drying of
Beautiful
Beautiful
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METEOR (A POEM FOR TWO VOICES) Adam and Jack Falling
Falling
Zooming Through Space.
Zooming
Igniting
Igniting
Burning
Burning Through The
Atmosphere. Dropping
Dropping
Falling Through The Clouds. Crashing
Crashing
Extinguishing
Extinguishing
Melting To The Ground Gone...
Gone…
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SWEET SCENTS ON THE WIND Boone
I am from cinnamon rolls From cumin and allspice. I from the sweet smell of cookies. I am from the sticky maple syrup that I drizzle on my pancakes. I am from biscuits and bread, from creamy ice cream. I am from pots and pans And from loured hands. I am from gingerbread cookies and sugar and salt. I am from rolling, and cutting, and warm cocoa. I am from boiling and broiling, From squeezed lemon and diced onions. I am from sweet scents on the wind.
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THE WARMTH OF LIFE Carsten I am from the bite of a pear, From crisp apples and sot oranges. I am from the crunch of golden tempura. I am from the crinkle of the candy wrapper. I am from squid nigiri and squishy berries. I am from letover fabric. From the pearls in the sea and the stars in the sky. From delicate origami shrimp, From clocks and tsunamis, From books and spoons. I am from the warmth of life.
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FRANK CHURCH HIGH SCHOOL Teaching-Writer Daniel Stewart
NORMS Connor In this day and age society tends to want us to follow norms. This is relatable because everyone has been told they’re not doing something correctly by the form of someone else’s opinion. When I was in middle school I lived in Star, Idaho, a smaller town ive square miles. There was a big norm in Star. I was expected to dress like a cowboy, but I would dress in jeans and Vans always mud rain snow you see me in Vans. Everyone tried making fun of me for not wearing cowboy boots but I kinda let it go. Boots were ugly to me and you could never skate in boots or run. I would tell my friends to play football just so they could say “I got boots on” so I could laugh.
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WHAT IS THE POINT OF THE UNIVERSE? Brittney A river of stars illed with thoughts and dreams Forever wishing to bathe in its colorful stream Far above our outstretched hands Always ready to take a stand We listen to it whisper Its words change like a shiter Never the same And never ready to explain It taunts, it tests Never letting anyone rest We curse and we plead And it only ever watches us bleed But in the end everyone knows It’s like a rose All full thorns Its painted colors are like a blush We should know because we’re the brush
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[I AM JUST A SMALL THING ON THE EARTH AND IN THE UNIVERSE, I] Daniel I am just a small thing on the Earth and in the universe, I take less than .00000000001% of the universe’s time given it’s been here for billions of years. But in that time I have learned it is rare to love and being cold is easier. When I was a kid I would pray for an amazing life. Blooming with love like a ield of lowers in the spring or dandelions on the sidewalk growing life in a crack of hardship. My point of view on life was probably changed when I fell into the pool as a kid and watched the ripples on top almost laughing at me as I gave into the pressure to breathe and let the water in and the bubbles rising as I faded into darkness.
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ON THE WAY HOME Juan On the way home people will be nice and thankful On the way home people will be honest with themselves on the way home I can feel safe People can prosper and complete their goal On the way home I can see people be happy and smile and not frown On the way to my school I can be conident I will have a good day On the way to my friend’s house I don’t have to worry On the way to work I can feel conident in my skill and not worry I will lose an income On the way to the park I can see happy kids in their youth On the way to life I can prosper and feel joy People can be happy but it doesn’t start with everyone that starts with one
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SUN AND MOON Hank We start out in life not knowing a thing about where we are or why we’re here. It takes years for us to even learn to ask any of those questions and the people who are supposed to know everything don’t know the answers. I’m here to try and make some sense of those things. To start that process I need to tell you about our father and mother, the moon and the sun, who created us and gives us so many things such as the tides and warmth. The moon and the sun chase each other for eternity, always longing to be together. They were once always in unison and that is when the earth was created. One day they decided they wanted something to look ater so they used their energy to create earth and the life on it. This was the moment humans were brought into the universe from the moon and the sun. Without the warmth of the sun and the bright light at night the moon guides us with we wouldn’t be able to survive.
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ADA COUNTY JUVENILE DETENTION CENTER Teaching-Writer Daniel Stewart
MINORITIES Justus It was kindergarten or irst grade we were reading a book about how my people were slaves Just looking at the pictures I could smell blood, sweat, and tears white folks treated brown folks diferently for reasons I didn’t understand they made us work all day and gave us a shed for a home It’s almost like I could hear and feel the leather lashing and tearing lesh and bone They said we dirty because we have a dark tone At that moment I realized white people are wrong
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CONSERVATIVES TEACHING LESSON Charles People who walk around with their ingers interlaced tend to make me nervous, like the tall woman with high cheekbones does as she stands behind me, insisting that I pull the stitching out of the black and gray sweater with the looming hook, my tears absorbing in the wool as it falls apart beneath my ingers. What an example I am setting for the younger ones who dream to be things they can’t say out loud without consequences, the tall woman’s wrinkles deepening as she smiles, because she doesn’t want things to change.
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THE ROAD TO THE SPRINGS Azzera The road is long it is hot and it is only 10 I leave and I see a cougar and I freeze not wanting to get attacked I feel the ground underneath my feet I smell trees all around me I can taste the rivers I can hear the birds everywhere
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[HE’S SCARED] Azzera He’s scared he might hurt her his body’s always warm because he’s a werewolf He loves the feeling a dirt under him the smell of nature the heat of the sun
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HEARTBREAK Azzera Heartbreak is when someone that you love hurts you really bad bad enough to make you cry, want to be alone and not talk People try to help it’s too hard to let go of someone you love
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DAYDREAMS Micah I am in darkness if that is what you call it in waves of sorrow and regret, blinding me, deafening me, bringing things to view I’d rather not see. We treat the dark with so much malice, we forget the wickedness of the light, its abundance of self-righteousness, its headachy luorescence. “You can see in the light” folks always say, “All the evil the dark conceals.” “Ignorance is bliss,” they say, though it’s considered trashy to be blissful. The light is the simple presence of the sun, the darkness merely absence of. What occupies the space of either one’s existence does not change regardless of which atmosphere it occupies. “I once knew darkness,” I tell people, “it consumed my every vision.”
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REGRETS Robe First time I got released I realized all the things I took for granted The sunset the trees the fresh air I had to tell my girl all about it She opened her eyes while mine were already closing lost sight of what I found and now I’m back to where I started
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[I GOT LOTS OF TIME TO THINK] Robe I got lots of time to think in my cell I guess my mom was right I’m not ever gone change I guess I live for this life it been my ith time back and I don’t really care as much as I should at least that’s what my ma says
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JDC Justus Going to school and SAS everyday Clowning with all my pod mates it’s really sucky in here right now before this hit it used to be okay no quarantine pod and no masks no split groups and dumber rules we could share basketballs and play chess and foos The virus got me in my room singin the blues All the people coughin sound like a tune this virus blew up everywhere not talkin a balloon mask and gloves but it’s not winter always using hand sanitizer for all the cases I know there’s a big binder Now we can’t eat out our rooms when the outbreak happens for two weeks all 24 hours we were in our rooms no free time no school
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END OF THE NORMAL DAY Kohrar My head leaning against side of my seat’s window the vibrations rattling in my head all is quiet the kids all dropped of I was the last kid let I hear the squeak of metal against metal as everything stops the double doors opened wide revealing the late aternoon sun that threatens to blind me I walk across the street everything looks normal as normal can be I go up to the wide door there I stood hesitating time seemed to slow I turn the knob of the wide door I look inside I was scared the eerie feeling inally caught up with nothing was normal everything was wrong for there was a man a scary man with a bottle clenched ist aimed at me inally the tears fell
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CHAOS Cody Puddles in the rain Don’t do drugs it ires the brain Journey by train caught eating bugs poison causes pain built by a crane kicking ugly pugs old man no cane movies with Mark Twain Dead in a rug Trapped in Spain bound by a chain eyes in jugs bone made bane that’s not main blood covered eggs not in my lane killed in vain
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THE MAZE Marcus It’s winding it’s all about timing I can hear the maze whining Here is the minotaur I can hear it at the maze’s core I’m trapped without a satyr it’s dark without the ark it’s time to turn of the beast because you go upstairs and ight that beast and lose your way and ind your peace but dust we came from and to dust we shall return
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DEPRESSION Den It’s like being stabbed in the back with the dull blade you know you’re dying ever so slowly but there’s nothing you can do to stop it. It’s like trying to piece together your shattered heart. But you can’t seem to start for fear of it rebreaking. why are you wallowing in your stinking self-pity? Now that’s just silly. Why not plug that thorn from your side and rise for there’s no shame in being bested but honor in the art of rising.
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I FEEL LOST AND NOT MYSELF Anthony My head hurts from regret pounding in my skull. My chest cries from all the pain that lingers in my heart My legs are sore because I keep running from all my problems
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REGRET Michael I’m sorry for everything the pain I have caused. I’ve done so many drugs, and broke some laws. I want you to know I feel so bad. I have hurt you much. I’ve made you very sad. Words can’t express how awful I feel. My heart hurts so much it feels like it will peel. Please forgive me Just one more time. If you can’t do so I’ll never feel alright. 1234 5 6-7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15
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SOUTHWEST IDAHO JUVENILE DETENTION CENTER Teaching-Writer Laura Roghaar
GROWING UP Enrique Money wasn’t rare, but it wasn’t easy. Mom walked to jobs. Dad let for a long visit to the prison again. Grandma prayed that my mom and I would get better. During summer I would ride my bike down the block to the corner store like most kids. In my neighborhood you heard everything, cats hissing, dogs barking when people walked down the alley. Shots so close you ducked, but knowing you were safe in the house. The corner store always getting robbed. People ighting in the streets. I hope my kids can play in the streets and yard without worrying about thugs coming around in a car. I hope. I pray.
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THE BUCK Koby I was on this wide and deep dirt road, tracking down a wounded deer. The blood trail was fresh. You could smell blood and sagebrush in the air. It led me up. It led me down. It lead me back and forth, its blood on the ground. This beautiful buck, a 4x3, had been hit in the lungs. But with its inal breath it ran and stopped then got back up. Ran two miles more. As it laid down for its inal rest I could hear its breath coming in and out. I snuck up and inished the job, saying Thank you, God, for the meat you have provided me and may this deer rest in peace. As I packed up to go it was getting dark and the sun was low. You could hear howls from the wolves nearby. I had my gun loaded by my side. As I ran my buck back to my truck I looked at the horizon and could see it. It lited its head and howled up to the sky. And with one motion I started to ride.
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IN THIS ONE Luis In this one I see my son Barely learning to walk In this one I see him crying ‘cause he fell Down In this one I see him in the summer so bright Hot on a nice summer day In this one I see him smiling in the grass Long, green, plenty of cottontails getting brushed and blown away As he runs through In this one I see him dreaming in the night Snug in bed with his elephant nightlight Peaceful and full of imagination and happiness Like I once was
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CLEANING Luz I sit there and think maybe I should clean I start to sweep watch all the dirt on high alert move to the other side of the room with the broom. Grab the dustpan and put the mugre in the trash. I use the mop to polish up and then I’m done but with my luck there’s more dust and rust by dawn so I get angry and I don’t want to do anything, but it feels more deep and I don’t give up on cleaning.
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IMAGINE Meklú I was six years old. It almost seemed to be an execution, having to take the trash out in a globe full of darkness over twinkling stars. I remember my heart playing jump rope, begging to get out of my chest, The click sound from the door handle talking when I opened it, the coldness of the pavement eating at my bare feet, and then, the yells and sirens from the crickets telling me to go inside. Warning me of the Monster, Monster that hides in the darkness.
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WILDFLOWER Tamica They are meant to grow in uncommon growing places, kind of like what Tupac said about the rose that grew from concrete, defeating all of Nature’s laws. Like the lower I could push myself to gro in places that are almost impossible to grow in. Wildlowers only need certain essentials like light through dark times and water, to purify. Soil to hold on to and grow with.
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TEACHING WRITERS’ BIOGRAPHIES Being charged by a grizzly in Denali National Park, to being bitten by piranhas in the Amazon Elizabeth Barnes is an avid adventurer and outdoor enthusiast. She loves reading, writing, cooking, and parenting. A lecturer at Boise State University, Elizabeth teaches writing by day and by night battles dragons via her pen. Natalie Disney recently earned her MFA in creative writing from Boise State University, where she served as Associate Editor of The Idaho Review. Her work has been published in The Florida Review, The Mississippi Review, and has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and the PEN America Robert J. Dau Short Story Prize for Emerging Writers. She is a recipient of the 2017 Glenn Balch Award for iction. She teaches writing at BSU and is at work on her irst novel. Chris Mathers Jackson is a freelance writer and editor, an aspiring novelist, a teacher, a mom, an artist, and a lover of the natural world. Chris received her MA in English Literature from University of Montana in 2005. She taught English Composition at UM from 2003-2006, both during and following completion of her master’s (as a TA and then an adjunct instructor). She worked in the administration of Missoula International School from 2006-2010 before becoming a full-time freelance writer, editor, and graphic designer. Ater several years, she stopped doing design work professionally to focus on her growing family and her passion for the written word. In 2019 she established a book review website (LitReaderNotes). In addition to teaching, writing, and editing, Chris enjoys spending as much time outside as possible, adventuring both near and far, with her husband and two daughters. 59
Catherine Kyle is the author of Shelter in Place (Spuyten Duyvil, 2019), Coronations (Ghost City Press, 2019), and other collections. Her writing has appeared in Midwestern Gothic, Mid-American Review, Bombay Gin, and other journals, and has been honored by the Idaho Commission on the Arts, the Alexa Rose Foundation, and other organizations. She works as an assistant professor of English at the College of Western Idaho. Her website is www.catherinebaileykyle.com. Emily Pittinos is a spinner of yarns, a healer of song birds, and a poet/ essayist from northern Michigan. An Associate Editor for Poetry Northwest, Emily received her MFA from Washington University in St. Louis, where she also served as the Senior Fellow in Poetry. Her recent work appears, or will soon appear, in Michigan Quarterly Review, Beloit Poetry Journal, Pinwheel Journal, New England Review, Denver Quarterly, and elsewhere. www.emilypittinos.com Laura Roghaar is a poet, educator, and arts administrator. She serves as the Poetry Out Loud coordinator for Idaho and teaches writing at The Cabin. She holds an MFA in poetry from Boise State and her chapbook of poems, SISTERHOUSE, is out from dancing girl press. Daniel Stewart is a teaching-writer for The Cabin’s Writers in the Schools program, serving as Writer in Residence at Ada County Juvenile Detention, and Frank Church High, an alternative school, in Boise, ID. The author of the collection The Imaginary World, his poems have appeared in BOAAT, Parentheses, Prairie Schooner, Rattle, Scab, Thrush, Yes Poetry, NightBlock, and Graviton Lit, among others.
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THE CABIN is a Boise, Idaho literary arts organization. We’ve been creating human connections through words since 1996. You can read, write, and learn with us at:
READINGS & CONVERSATIONS an annual lecture series that brings internationally-acclaimed, provocative, and inspiring writers to Boise.
WRITERS IN THE SCHOOLS (WITS) a program that places professional writers in classrooms with 3rd-12th grade students.
SUMMER WRITING CAMPS literary adventures for young writers.
ADULT WRITING WORKSHOPS creative small-group classes led by published authors.
GHOSTS & PROJECTORS a reading series that pairs emerging, innovative, and experimental writers with writers from our community.
WRITERS IN THE ATTIC (WITA) an annual publication contest and event for local writers.
LITERARY ACTIVITIES such as book club meetings, readings by local authors, and other events that create conversation and community around literature. The Cabin’s administrative oices are housed in a restored log cabin, listed on the National Register of Historic Places, on the banks of the Boise River in downtown Boise. 61
INDEX A
K
Adam • 21 Adee • 5 Anthony • 48 Azzera • 37, 38, 39
Koby • 54 Kohrar • 44
B Bastien • 8 Boone • 22 Brittney • 28
C Carsten • 23 Charles • 36 Cody • 45 Connor • 27
D/E
L Lev • 20 Luis • 55 Luz • 56
M Maggi • 14 Maisie • 6 Marcus • 46 Meklú • 57 Micah • 40 Michael • 49 Molly • 7
Daniel • 29 Den • 47 Enrique • 53
O/P
H
R/S/T
Hank • 31 Henry • 19
J
Owen • 15 Piper • 10
Robe • 41, 42 Sala • 11 Suhas • 16 Tamica • 58
Jack • 20, 21 Juan • 30 Juniper • 12 Justus • 35, 43
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CAMBIA WRITERS IN THE SCHOOLS 2021
THE ROAD TO THE SPRINGS The road is long it is hot and it is only 10 I leave and I see a cougar and I freeze not wanting to get attacked
I feel the ground underneath my feet I smell trees all around me I can taste the rivers I can hear the birds everywhere
– AZZERA, Ada County Juvenile Detention Center The Cabin is a Boise, Idaho literary arts organization. We forge community through the voices of all readers, writers, and learners. The Writers in the Schools (WITS) program brings professional teaching-writers into Treasure Valley schools and juvenile detention centers to provide in-depth writing instruction and confidence-building feedback to local students.
LOG CABIN BOOKS LITERATURE
