Family Ties
November’s Guest Poet, Twanita Lassiter
I host Open Mic Night the second Tuesday of each month at Urbano Bar and Bistro, a great place for food and coffee, here in Sierra Vista, Arizona. A few months ago, we added a writing prompt for folks who wanted to try something new. In the past, when given a topic at a writing workshop or open mic, I choked. The pressure to produce something creative on the spot caused me great anxiety, and I would marvel at writers who could pen a gorgeous scene or poem in the allotted time. But allowed to ponder a prompt on my own time, I’ve come to appreciate the power of suggestion. Each month one of our talented community writers or musicians chooses a one-word theme to consider. For October it was paranormal. November was family, and in December, the theme is presents, and as writers, we joked about including the homophone presence, which we all agreed would be fine, too: Did you have the presence of mind to wrap the presents?
Each month, the theme floats through my consciousness like a song, attaching itself to memories while walking the dogs or doing laundry. And as Open Mic Night approaches, it begins to take shape, and I am compelled to sit down and write. This month it was difficult to focus on much more than the election, and I was concerned for the wellbeing of our writing community as I read their social media posts where hope turned to foreboding then to anger and dismay. I worried what Open Mic Night might look like. Would our community come together or would wounded writers, poets, and musicians stay at home, curtains drawn, drinking wine and binging on Netflix? I had no idea what I wanted to write about or how “family” played a role in the political and social climate immediately following the election. Should we cancel, I wondered, maybe take a collective breath and return after the holidays? And then I sat down and began to write, because that’s what writers do. It is our elixer. The thing that calms our nerves, grounds us, and puts life into perspective.
I wrote a short story about a Thanksgiving dinner I shared with coworkers from the restaurant I managed years ago in Laramie, Wyoming. Laramie is a college town, so most of us were from someplace else. We worked long, hard hours, and in many ways, we were like family. The story I wrote was predictable and, in the end, it was a fluff piece that had nothing to do with the way I was feeling.
I went for a long walk to clear my head, and when I returned, I tried again, and these are the words that pierced through the shock, creating hope and anticipation of coming together for Open Mic Night with my writing community. And that night as we gathered together, I watched with reverence as people I care about shared their stories and music. Those gifts that transcend life’s struggles.
Family
The first is celebrated and sometimes marred by history, expectation, and disappointment.
The second is first love.
Those that follow are of our choosing, and this is my family:
Writers, musicians, and artists who create the world rather than be molded by it.
Nature lovers who stand in awe among mighty oaks.
Curious truth seekers who pursue answers for the greater good.
Spirited souls who marvel at God’s grace.
Lone wolves who find comfort in their pack.
Kind folks who lend a helping hand.
Fierce protectors who shelter us.
Insightful crones who came before us.
Quiet introverts who smile.
Loud extroverts who laugh.
AND
YOU who bring light in times of darkness.
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During a month that has been difficult on many of us, I received some good news. Today my short story “Seasonal Shift” was published in The Ana literary magazine and tomorrow an interview and reading I did for Arizona Public Media’s Arizona Spotlight radio show will air at 8:30 am, 6 pm and again on Saturday at 3 pm (Mountain Standard Time). I would love to hear your thoughts on the stories and share one of your own if you would like. Or join us for Open Mic Night next month on Tuesday, December 10 from 6 pm to 8 pm if you are in the area!
