The 2022 Poetic Address

[Note from USDAC team: When we asked 2022 USA Fellow & 2020 Texas Poet Laureate Emmy Pérez to give our Poetic Address in January 2022, we couldn’t have imagined all the tragedy that would ensue in the world and at home. Pérez writes her Poetic Address in the immediate days after the Uvalde massacre, using her poetic voice to lift up the need for immediate action against gun violence. We are grateful to Pérez for setting an example in how we can transform our grief and rage into action. We encourage you to be inspired by this poem to take part in the culture shift around our violent culture of guns, patriarchy, white supremacy, and many other intersecting struggles.]

In Line to Pay Respects at Robb Elementary School Memorial
Emmy Pérez

We cradle bundled roses like babies
In our arms & some hold peluches tight.

Vecinas stroll a cooler with water 
Bottles till it’s empty, refuse money—

Say, No, no, no… You’re guests here.
It’s 90-something degrees 

& our ideas on how we can help
Fall short on feasibility. 

We came to pay our respects 
Where the shootings happened just five days ago,

When some of us were visiting schools much like this one
Attending our children’s year-end ceremonies, 

Proud for every child, grateful for generous 
Teachers & staff. Trees gift shade, one weeps 

& the white wing doves & grackles continue 
Their calls & songs. At times, 

Uvalde feels like El Valle
& I wonder if I’m home. 

Water? They ask. 
You have plenty of water?

Folks deliver armfuls of horses to the memorial line, nineteen
Plush horses on sticks, each with one of the children’s names. 

When I get lightheaded & almost need to quit the line, 
A kind woman offers her water & suggests I sit right here

In the street for a bit. A tiger swallowtail butterfly floats by 
In the purposeful meandering that is its flight,

& the woman offers her hand when she sees me
Ready. When it’s our turn at the memorial 

Under large pecan trees half a century old
(Planted, at the time, by one of the only 

Mexican American teachers at the school), 
We encounter the crosses that commemorate each life,

& I remember the back window of a truck 
Heading to Uvalde this morning

Nevaeh  Jacklyn  Makenna  Jose  Ellie  Uziyah
Amerie  Xavier  Jayce  Tess  Maranda  Alithia
Annabell  Maite  Lexi  Layla  Jailah  Eliahna  Rojelio

On a road between irrigated fields & stretches of land with deer
& javelinas, where cardinals fly above cactus fruits still green.

How the mind delivers me to the land for a moment as if to delay
Approaching enlarged photos on easels, heroine teachers 

Irma Garcia & Eva Mireles
Framing both sides of a small brick wall with the daily

  Welcome
ROBB
ELEMENTARY
 SCHOOL
Bienvenidos

I imagine the ritual Buenos días & Good mornings 
In the halls, the former hard-earned. And now the adjoined 

Classrooms are right here, the earth, the universe. 
The name Neveah, her tía mentioned in the news, is also Heaven 

In a mirror, in the Nueces River, reflected in anyone’s eyes 
As we move through the space. Dozens of lilies & carnations  

Cushion the crosses & photos, the brick wall. Prayer candles
Stand upright, along with letters, drawings, plush toys

& their intentions as palpable as our brief interactions in line
& more organic on the grass, as we encounter

Each child’s photo, large & framed by white roses, 
Now-familiar faces, smiling. A few days ago, 290 miles away,

My child glimpsed photos of two children 
From a purposely abbreviated version of the news in my hands

With an immediate look of recognition & jaw-drop.
They could be classmates, primas, primos… 

And when I run out of roses for each child’s altar
In front of me, my heart drops, the improvisation incomplete.

Without a gift for some, I am more present, 
More undone. And when I wonder if I’ve rushed 

Knowing the line is two hours behind us, 
I stop & take it all in again further away. 

A man previously in line ahead of me & also on a journey
Touches each photo like support on each shoulder, 

Acknowledging each child, each miracle, & at that exact 
Moment I know I’m not doing enough for youth 

In my community. For some reason, afterwards, he thanks me
& I thank him too. Safe travels, we say. We both know why 

We’re here, even if this transcript seems like small talk.
The man hosting the memorial entrance thanks me 

As he has so many, & I sink with his sincerity—everyone
Has been so kind. The funerals start tomorrow, unfathomable.

Obituaries for a decade’s beautiful life. And there’s the school building 
Where the children spent many hours, many days, spoke to others 

Their age, where generous teachers 
& staff cared for them, knew them

More than their names, knew 
Their parents & guardians, also taught them 

How to be in the world away from home.       
I walk down the wrong street to my car,

Miss my family. There is no other way 
To say it, even if few believe me: 

We are here today because of love 
& I wonder how come it seems delayed,

Though it rose from the start five days ago
Along with renewed fear for school children. 

I’m struggling with the feeling seeming only after the tragedy
& of course other visitors & I had never been to Uvalde 

Where an abundance of love 
already exists & nowhere can it alone stop guns

Aimed at the innocent, can’t stop the ensuing depths of grief. 
We cannot rewind that day with an adjustment

That changes the present, though we imagine no doubt. 
Maybe what I mean is that for us visitors 

Love shouldn’t always be comfortable if we allow it
& then it won’t feel so delayed if we act according 

To its directions. Even when we can’t control the outcome,
We won’t be passive. There is something about 

Our majority racialized bodies 
Gathered here in the same space

Together, alive. We’re here
Because this should never happen again. 

Because we know who suffers
The most. 
We know 

Buffalo
El Paso
Orlando
Sandy Hook
All of them. 

Mass means 19. Means 21, means 10
Means 23, means 49, means 26, means 1. 

And by the time this building’s razed
Or abandoned—a ban should be in effect. 

Ban, recall, buy back, all assault weapons 
Among civilians. Let that land 

Where the school was become what the community 
Imagines for it. Maybe it will become itself 

Again, a native garden. And after the 19 
Children, two teachers, & the heartbroken

Partner are laid to rest—QEPD—
& after most news cameras return home, 

I will remember Uvalde
As a place where love lives & gathers,

Where whether or not I had enough roses
Means I vow to plant more seeds,

Because I believe what may seem like fleeting
Empathy & sympathy is more sustained

Within us, ecosystems 
Capable of voice & embodiment.

Being here does something to us,
Draws it out of us publicly if only

To ourselves & a neighbor in line
Or elsewhere beyond Uvalde 

Which is to say what we witness 
In each other now (times thousands) 

Creates collectives 
That help us serve

Each other, our communities,
& demand change 

From lawmakers.

Our children 
& the generations

Are owed this courtesy, 
This respect.

We owe it to them
Right now.

We also owe it to ourselves

Note: “Sprawling memorial growing on the school's front lawn under the shade of some giant pecan trees, the ones Mr. Garza planted more than 50 years ago because he wanted to make Uvalde's Mexican school more beautiful. The trees are massive now, sturdy, and they are beautiful.”

https://www.npr.org/2022/05/31/1102260606/what-robb-elementary-school-has-meant-in-uvaldes-history-of-mexican-activism

The People’s State of the Union 2022 Prompt:
We Believe That We Will Win

Democracy is not a monologue, it’s a conversation. We invite you this year to take back democracy by participating in the 8th Annual People’s State of the Union!

As we head into the third year of COVID-19, it’s easy to feel worn out. Exhausted. So many people have died and been impacted due to the systemic failure of capitalism and United States governance. 

This year, People’s State of the Union reminds us that in dire times, it’s the stories of hope that keep us going. It’s the stories of victories that fuel us for the tireless work of long term social change. We lift up the successes of organizers during these past two years, from a growing labor movement of workers who are increasingly refusing to accept exploitative working conditions, to the organizers stopping the construction of the border wall, and so many other wins in the face of adversity. These successes show us that we can, and we must, believe that we will win. 

“We live in capitalism, its power seems inescapable—but then, so did the divine right of kings. Any human power can be resisted and changed by human beings. Resistance and change often begin in art. Very often in our art, the art of words.” —Ursula K. Leguin

“So be it! See to it!” — Octavia E. Butler

Legendary science fiction writers Ursula K. Leguin and Octavia E. Butler write that in order to create a more just future, we must imagine it. This year, we ask you to journey into your imaginations to bring us stories of a thriving future

About the People’s State of the Union:

Since 2015, the USDAC has hosted the People’s State of the Union as an annual civic ritual to build bonds of empathy and connection by coming together to share our own take on the state of our union. This year, we're offering prompts for you to reflect on moments of hope, big and small, over the past year. 

The People’s State of the Union has two main parts: Story Circles across the country, and a collaboratively composed Poetic Address to the Nation.

This year, we invite you to host your own story circles, and stay tuned for this year’s Poetic Address sharing our vision of a hopeful future. 

“and when we speak we are afraid
our words will not be heard
nor welcomed
but when we are silent
we are still afraidSo it is better to speak
remembering
we were never meant to survive.”

—Audre Lorde, A Litany for Survival

#PSOTU2022 Story circle prompts:

For #PSOTU2022, we ask you to journey into your imaginations to bring us stories of a thriving future:

• Share a story of something that inspired you in the past year. Who was involved? What did it inspire you to do?

• Share a story of a success, big or small, in the past year. Who was involved? What can we learn for the future?

• Share a story from a future in which we are abundant and thriving. What does this future look like? How did we get here?

*Story Circles are often understood as deriving from indigenous traditions. There are many variations. We give special thanks and credit to John O’Neal of Junebug Productions (and formerly Free Southern Theater) and to Roadside Theater who have been central in developing the practice for use in creating original performance and in community telling and listening projects.

Resources

Need a refresher on the People’s State of the Union or how to organize a virtual story circle? Check out our past toolkits and trainings here:

• #PSOTU2020 Toolkit

• PSOTU2019 Story Circle training: https://vimeo.com/304946773, password: StoryCircles2019!

PAST PSOTU ARCHIVES & VIDEOS

#PSOTU2015

The Inaugural People's State of the Union took place from January 23-30, 2015. The Poetic Address to the Nation was performed and broadcast from the Bowery Poetry Club in New York City. Watch the video for excerpts from Story Circles and the Poetic Address.

DOWNLOADABLE ART & POSTERS

What do We The People want, need, or demand? As part of #PSOTU2019, we partnered with artists to create downloadable signs that you can print, customize, and post in your Story Circle or anywhere in your community. Try printing out copies of the posters, asking people to fill in the blanks, and taking photos holding them to post on social media. You can access high-resolution copies of these images here.