a case of newness & a writing prompt

Prepping for the new semester always brings thoughts of newness: new readings, new prompts, new ways to approach things. This newness has been a theme of late.

Like how recently I had to replace my phone case. The broken one had served me a few years.

The broken one had a cartoon duck slumped across a counter with loose papers, coffee, and a napkin with cartoon s*** for company. Over the whole scene hung the words: “I’m sick of everything.”

This statement is, as they say, a vibe.

Me too, buddy. Me too.

But having life lifing at me as it has, I took in the image of this exhausted and exploited creature and wondered: why am I glamorizing that?

I mean, I’m not. It’s funny. Until it’s not. And it hasn’t been for a bit. Or rather, why have I carried this symbol so intimately in my hand for so long?

The replacement was a phone case with purple and pink clouds on it.

The clouds are rendered in such a way as to make it seem like they could be parting or coming together to storm.

Either way, the change is beautiful.

So, things remain cloudy?!? That tracks.

Writing Prompt: The astrology podcast I follow spoke recently of the start of Virgo season and how it comes with a renewed focus on the day to day, on daily routine and maintenance, things that get overlooked over time and which need to be revisited in order for our relationship with them to evolve (which if you follow the logic here means that they help us evolve, no?).

Similarly, what signs, symbols, words, etc. in your daily life have you not taken in and given attention to in a while? What do they point to that needs a “refresh,” so to speak? What does giving these things attention open up for their significance in your life?

Use this mix of concrete and abstract materials to write a poem that explores how a poem can be a space of reconnecting with what would otherwise pass us by.

Let me know in the comments if you tried the prompt and how it went.

Happy writing!

= José =

Thoughts on the 2024 Presidential debate + new project

I looked it up—which is to say I found the transcript and hit CTRL+F—and can verify that the word “border” was used a total of 38 times during the first 2024 Presidential debate.

Trump said it the most, of course.

Mind, I didn’t go in expecting to have a good time. What surprised me, though, was how I felt every time Trump brought it back to the border: badgered, bullied, berated. All the B words.

I also thought of my students and what they must be feeling. That this is the world we must contend with together.

Because as much as Trump kept on about the border, there was more violence in what wasn’t spoken about by either candidate.

And when the two candidates went off about their golf game, I felt like so much of the world was erased.  


What often gets lost in discussions about “borders” is the reality and history of U.S. involvement in Latin America as well as in other parts of the world. More and more, people are compelled to cross borders because they are fleeing violence, persecution, extreme poverty, or environmental disasters.

Behind every number cited in a statistic, there are individuals, human faces and needs. Every time Trump said the word “border,” those human faces were reduced to rhetoric.

It’s like he is building a wall, only its made of words, and the more he foments hate against marginalized communities, the more words are weaponized against us, and the more obfuscated I feel from the world.

And I know I’m not the only one.


Human beings are not problems to be managed. The scapegoating of migrants has broad implications. It perpetuates stereotypes, fuels division, and distracts from addressing the systemic issues that contribute to migration flows. It risks normalizing discriminatory attitudes and policies that can have far-reaching consequences for our communities and abroad.

This presidential debate serves as a stark reminder of the power of language and discourse in shaping public opinion and policy. I mean, the word “border” was used a total of 38 times—which is to say that 38 times I felt the world get smaller—and here I am trying to show how presence is political.

My act of presence this time around includes this post but also a series of erasures based on the aforementioned transcript. I’ll be sharing the Debate Series here and on my Instagram account, @poetryamano, over the next few weeks. See the first set below. I ended up doing two takes on each quote to represent the “two sides” of the debate.


More than my communities are hurt by this mix of violence, neglect, and erasure by those in power.

For now, I can only speak about my corner of it and let it be known that at least here, in these words, is the debate continuing—not the slapped-together debate we saw last week, but the debate of how we will survive despite it.


Debate Series: takes 1.1 & 1.2


Debate Series: takes 2.1 & 2.2


Abrazos,

= José =