Friday, June 25, 2021

Split This Rock Enters Fallow Season

Over a white background, bold black text with a yellow outline appears that says “Fallow Season July 1, 2021 - April 1, 2022.” Under this text is an illustration of a yellow-orange sun rising from green fields under a light blue sky. Three yellow dots surround the illustration.
After 13 years of programming and publication, and actively surviving a global pandemic, Split This Rock is entering a fallow season beginning July 1, 2021 and ending April 1, 2022. Fallow land is cultivated land left unplanted for a growing season. To make land fallow is to recognize that soil needs time to rest and regenerate after harvesting abundance. Fallow seasons are about sustainability.

During Split This Rock’s fallow season, staff and board will focus on expanding the organization’s capacity to be fertile and stable ground for working towards liberation, as well as defining more concretely what working towards liberation means at Split This Rock. This time will offer space to tap into deeper wells of creativity so the organization can offer more impactful opportunities for cultivating poetry, building community, and sharpening tools for resistance. Board and staff will have space to more deeply align the organization’s mission with its systems, protocols, and practices. This internal alignment powers our capacity to show up with the greatest integrity in our programs and commitments to community. Some of the projects we will be tending include:

  • Building strategic plans for Split This Rock’s programming, publications, communications, and other endeavors
  • Maintaining communication with stakeholders and community members to access valuable input and expertise to help shape Split This Rock’s future offerings
  • Strengthening the organization’s infrastructure, including significant upgrades to our website, email platform, and donor database
  • Engaging in consulting processes to guide us in tending to Split This Rock’s internal culture, staffing structure, and leadership model so they more deeply align with the organization’s mission and values
  • Refining protocols and practices to offer greater support to staff
  • Formalizing procedures to respond to community needs and current events
  • Hosting virtual community gatherings to remain tuned in to the needs of those we serve
  • Continuing fundraising and grant writing efforts to sustain the organization

Split This Rock was born from the brilliant effort, community care, radical imagination, and creative genius of a small group of poet activists with a big dream. That dream has grown immensely since the organization’s founding in 2008, while Split This Rock’s internal resources and staffing level have barely changed – despite efforts to address this challenge. Through facilitated discussion in February and March this year, the organization’s leaders came to clarity that a programmatic pause is needed. It’s time to tend to the field Split This Rock’s founders so tenderly seeded, making sure the soil from which we grow community engagement remains rich. We honor the legacy of our founders and the values that are core to the organization by arriving at this truth: programmatic rest is our bravest political action in this season.

We are being called to more radically embody the interconnected wisdom of the movements that guide us, such as the movements for Black liberation, disability justice, Indigenous sovereignty, and environmental justice. We are grateful for the opportunity to make this bold move – the manifestation of a quiet dream we’ve held in our hearts that allows us to build upon the current health of the organization. As we shared in our staff letter in December 2020, a few of the changes we are committed to at Split This Rock include:

  • Expanding paid opportunities for artists who teach, publish, and feature at Split This Rock, artists who are largely people of color and often alumni of the Youth Programs
  • Bringing disability justice principles more fully into the center of the organization’s culture
  • Cultivating a more supportive and attractive work environment for current and future staff
  • Adjusting the programmatic load as necessary to match the organization's staffing level
  • Developing and practicing community agreements that center consent culture and accountability

Though programs will not be hosted during the fallow season, we’re eager to continue engaging with you. You can expect to receive updates on our progress along the way; the first will arrive in August. Fill out this online form to let us know if you’d like to be part of community gatherings we will host to invite your expertise and feedback. Poem of the Week will continue until June 25, 2021, and we hope you’ll keep reading. Visit the fallow season webpage for information about Split This Rock’s programs, ways to contact staff and board during this time, and more.

We believe this is the most courageous and radical work we are called to fulfill. We’ve collected a playlist of poems that are grounding and guiding us in this time, and encourage you to read them below. We are excited about the many possibilities that might manifest and the harvest waiting for us all on the other side of Split This Rock’s fallow season.

With gratitude,

Split This Rock Staff & Board


Image Description: Over a white background, bold black text with a yellow outline appears that says “Fallow Season July 1, 2021 - April 1, 2022.” Under this text is an illustration of a yellow-orange sun rising from green fields under a light blue sky. Three yellow dots surround the illustration.

Thursday, November 12, 2020

Poems of Persistence, Solidarity, and Refuge – Elliot Frost

We are each other's harvest; we are each other's business; we are each other's magnitude and bond.  ― Gwendolyn Brooks  

Split This Rock Virtual Open Mic announcement includes a black background with red Split This Rock logo, text that reads "Virtual Open Mic," and an illustration of a hanging lamp sending out rays of light over a laptop.
As we journey through political, economic, and global health crises, we turn to poetry to share truths that unearth underlying causes, illuminate impacts, and insist on transformative change. For many of us, today’s challenges are not new. The struggle of isolation, economic insecurity, inadequate medical care, deadly institutionalized negligence, governmental decisions that put Black, Brown, Indigenous, Asian, disabled, sick, and other structurally precarious people at greater risk are not new. Today, many more people are experiencing the vulnerability of these unrelenting issues. We recognize this opportunity for a heightened awareness of how our very survival depends on one another.

Poetry can help keep the flame of resilience, solidarity, and resistance alive in us. It can help us process and move through grief, anger, loneliness. Poetry can be a comfort when the most necessary actions are to rest and recover. It can remind us of what’s at stake, that our lives and legacy are worth the fight. As cultural workers, we know that culture shapes our political and social imagination at a foundational level. As poets, we can use poetry to map what is, what has been, and possibly, the way forward, including the reasons not to return to what does not honor and protect our lives, our communities, and our planet. 

We asked poets to give us the words they chant to get out of bed, to raise their fists, to encourage their kin, to remind us, as this crisis does, that “we are each other’s business; we are each other’s magnitude and bond.” To read all of these poems, visit Split This Rock’s website.

***

Seahorse and Empty
By Elliot Frost

In the time between
Mother’s and Father’s Day 
in quarantine

spent some time online
moving clock hands
and filling pockets
for a baby that can’t exist here.

He asked if I could “make them a nursery”.

I catch his seahorse belly in the Zoom 
like a projector light bobbing awake -
there is something about a pregnant man
that mops up blood I spilled on wrinkled sheets once, in my early 20’s.  
   That September morning the blinds were pulled
   and the coffee was cold as I poured it
   down the drain — there was nothing
   I could fill myself with.
   My belly skin lapped thirsty at a pillow.

I ask him what colors he’d like me to use.

“Yellow” he says, “just make everything yellow” ... and I think about the “Yellow Wallpaper” from that story I read in High School about the woman
with postpartum... “resting” off “hysteria” alone.

“Sure” I say, but I mean “no”.  
I mean,
I want kids.

I think I’d be a good father.

But I’m stuck behind these yellow walls.
The villagers in this virtual town
keep repeating all the same 
wrong 
questions.

Listen as Elliot Frost reads "Seahorse and Empty."

Poems of Persistence, Solidarity, and Refuge – Shivkanya Shashi

We are each other's harvest; we are each other's business; we are each other's magnitude and bond.  ― Gwendolyn Brooks  

Split This Rock Virtual Open Mic announcement includes a black background with red Split This Rock logo, text that reads "Virtual Open Mic," and an illustration of a hanging lamp sending out rays of light over a laptop.

As we journey through political, economic, and global health crises, we turn to poetry to share truths that unearth underlying causes, illuminate impacts, and insist on transformative change. For many of us, today’s challenges are not new. The struggle of isolation, economic insecurity, inadequate medical care, deadly institutionalized negligence, governmental decisions that put Black, Brown, Indigenous, Asian, disabled, sick, and other structurally precarious people at greater risk are not new. Today, many more people are experiencing the vulnerability of these unrelenting issues. We recognize this opportunity for a heightened awareness of how our very survival depends on one another.

Poetry can help keep the flame of resilience, solidarity, and resistance alive in us. It can help us process and move through grief, anger, loneliness. Poetry can be a comfort when the most necessary actions are to rest and recover. It can remind us of what’s at stake, that our lives and legacy are worth the fight. As cultural workers, we know that culture shapes our political and social imagination at a foundational level. As poets, we can use poetry to map what is, what has been, and possibly, the way forward, including the reasons not to return to what does not honor and protect our lives, our communities, and our planet.

We asked poets to give us the words they chant to get out of bed, to raise their fists, to encourage their kin, to remind us, as this crisis does, that “we are each other’s business; we are each other’s magnitude and bond.” To read all of these poems, visit Split This Rock’s website.


***

Come Walk With Us
by Shivkanya Shashi

Tens and thousands of migrant workers are walking home with their families in the boiling heat in India. They are calling their leaders to "Come walk with us" and feel the pain.

O my PM, O my CM, come walk with us
Walk with us n’ burn with us, in n’ out,  in n’ out
Without a drop of water, without a morsel of food
Come walk with us, come walk with us…………

The marble beneath your feet we carry on our back
The bricks of parliament pillars we carry on our head
The food on the dish we knead n’ toil with our hand
In the darkness the glorious nation glows with light
But my PM, we aren’t a part of it, we aren’t a part of it…..

My daughter walks a little, a very little distance
Of some three hundred kilometers 
And the glorious aircraft showers flowers
When she breathes her last in my arms
How splendid, how spectacular the nation is
But my PM, we aren’t a part of it, we aren’t a part of it…..

Thank you virus, half dead half alive virus, thanks a lot
You’ve shown the true colours of the strong system
Never heard the jingle of coins from a mega-package
In my pocket, in his plate, on her slate, never ever
Statues, metros, roads, and malls
We wade through the notes of millions n’ billions n’ trillions
But my PM, we aren’t a part of it, we aren’t a part of it…..

No no PM, we’ll never ask for a single rupee
You need it to run our powerful country
We see it, we see it when we see our cracked feet ..

Meanwhile, how about walking n’ burning with us?
Take the opportunity, walk with us, go live on Facebook
Because tomorrow we all may die,
On roads, on tracks, in gutters, on trees, in fields
With whom will you walk,
With whom will you click the photos?
Then who will work for the marvelous nation?

O my PM, O my CM, come walk with us
Walk with us n’ burn with us, in n’ out, in n’ out
Without a drop of water, without a morsel of food
Come walk with us, come walk with us…………

Listen as Shivkanya Shashi reads "Come Walk With Us."

Poems of Persistence, Solidarity, and Refuge – Jen Martin

We are each other's harvest; we are each other's business; we are each other's magnitude and bond.  ― Gwendolyn Brooks  

Split This Rock Virtual Open Mic announcement includes a black background with red Split This Rock logo, text that reads "Virtual Open Mic," and an illustration of a hanging lamp sending out rays of light over a laptop.

As we journey through political, economic, and global health crises, we turn to poetry to share truths that unearth underlying causes, illuminate impacts, and insist on transformative change. For many of us, today’s challenges are not new. The struggle of isolation, economic insecurity, inadequate medical care, deadly institutionalized negligence, governmental decisions that put Black, Brown, Indigenous, Asian, disabled, sick, and other structurally precarious people at greater risk are not new. Today, many more people are experiencing the vulnerability of these unrelenting issues. We recognize this opportunity for a heightened awareness of how our very survival depends on one another.

Poetry can help keep the flame of resilience, solidarity, and resistance alive in us. It can help us process and move through grief, anger, loneliness. Poetry can be a comfort when the most necessary actions are to rest and recover. It can remind us of what’s at stake, that our lives and legacy are worth the fight. As cultural workers, we know that culture shapes our political and social imagination at a foundational level. As poets, we can use poetry to map what is, what has been, and possibly, the way forward, including the reasons not to return to what does not honor and protect our lives, our communities, and our planet.

We asked poets to give us the words they chant to get out of bed, to raise their fists, to encourage their kin, to remind us, as this crisis does, that “we are each other’s business; we are each other’s magnitude and bond.” To read all of these poems, visit Split This Rock’s website.


***

To talk to you
by Jen Martin

How are you?
Question beckoning a barrage 
Is soft, swift, sequence
what you want to hear?
 
How are you today?
Living breathing
I was told this was the way to ask people who don’t have that sense of week, month, sunrise
catch up
sequence.
 
Are you in sequence?
Do your words line up orderly 
today?
you are off the hook
because
 
Today, yesterlate, undersunday
Upintomorrow, latemorn, latetimecontinue, 
That’s your right.
 
Here when you are
Gone when you’re gone
In out of step we fall in step.


Listen as Jen Martin reads "To talk to you."

Poems of Persistence, Solidarity, and Refuge – Kelsey May

We are each other's harvest; we are each other's business; we are each other's magnitude and bond.  ― Gwendolyn Brooks  

Split This Rock Virtual Open Mic announcement includes a black background with red Split This Rock logo, text that reads "Virtual Open Mic," and an illustration of a hanging lamp sending out rays of light over a laptop.

As we journey through political, economic, and global health crises, we turn to poetry to share truths that unearth underlying causes, illuminate impacts, and insist on transformative change. For many of us, today’s challenges are not new. The struggle of isolation, economic insecurity, inadequate medical care, deadly institutionalized negligence, governmental decisions that put Black, Brown, Indigenous, Asian, disabled, sick, and other structurally precarious people at greater risk are not new. Today, many more people are experiencing the vulnerability of these unrelenting issues. We recognize this opportunity for a heightened awareness of how our very survival depends on one another.

Poetry can help keep the flame of resilience, solidarity, and resistance alive in us. It can help us process and move through grief, anger, loneliness. Poetry can be a comfort when the most necessary actions are to rest and recover. It can remind us of what’s at stake, that our lives and legacy are worth the fight. As cultural workers, we know that culture shapes our political and social imagination at a foundational level. As poets, we can use poetry to map what is, what has been, and possibly, the way forward, including the reasons not to return to what does not honor and protect our lives, our communities, and our planet.

We asked poets to give us the words they chant to get out of bed, to raise their fists, to encourage their kin, to remind us, as this crisis does, that “we are each other’s business; we are each other’s magnitude and bond.” To read all of these poems, visit Split This Rock’s website.


***

Bathsheba Marries Jezebel
by Kelsey May

Bless the eyes that immortalized
your loving, you who lived like the sun;
what teeth couldn’t tear from the narrative;
glitter the years and return. Let me

be your vessel; slake my thirst; I yearn.

Bless your hands for washing; bless
the sheets that caught you; praise the stones
for their breaking. You gave to the king;
you satisfied your husband; you bore the blame

and sons. Bless the women who hear your cries;

bless us all for the trying. Let us love like birds.

Let us scorn the men who cage us.


Listen as Kelsey May reads "Bathsheba Marries Jezebel."

Poems of Persistence, Solidarity, and Refuge – Philip Metres

We are each other's harvest; we are each other's business; we are each other's magnitude and bond.  ― Gwendolyn Brooks  

Split This Rock Virtual Open Mic announcement includes a black background with red Split This Rock logo, text that reads "Virtual Open Mic," and an illustration of a hanging lamp sending out rays of light over a laptop.

As we journey through political, economic, and global health crises, we turn to poetry to share truths that unearth underlying causes, illuminate impacts, and insist on transformative change. For many of us, today’s challenges are not new. The struggle of isolation, economic insecurity, inadequate medical care, deadly institutionalized negligence, governmental decisions that put Black, Brown, Indigenous, Asian, disabled, sick, and other structurally precarious people at greater risk are not new. Today, many more people are experiencing the vulnerability of these unrelenting issues. We recognize this opportunity for a heightened awareness of how our very survival depends on one another.

Poetry can help keep the flame of resilience, solidarity, and resistance alive in us. It can help us process and move through grief, anger, loneliness. Poetry can be a comfort when the most necessary actions are to rest and recover. It can remind us of what’s at stake, that our lives and legacy are worth the fight. As cultural workers, we know that culture shapes our political and social imagination at a foundational level. As poets, we can use poetry to map what is, what has been, and possibly, the way forward, including the reasons not to return to what does not honor and protect our lives, our communities, and our planet.

We asked poets to give us the words they chant to get out of bed, to raise their fists, to encourage their kin, to remind us, as this crisis does, that “we are each other’s business; we are each other’s magnitude and bond.” To read all of these poems, visit Split This Rock’s website.


***

The Olive
by Philip Metres

زيتون

 

 

            (

 

consider the olive: it gnarls as it grows 

into itself / a veritable thicket / it throws

 

            (

 

up obstacles to the light to reach 

the light / a crooked path in the air

 

            (

 

while beneath our sight it wrestles the rock 

wrests water from whatever trickles

 

            (

 

beneath / it doesn't worry it looks like hell 

refuses to straighten for anyone

 

            (

 

each spring offers itself meat to be eaten 

first brambles / then olives


Listen as Philip Metres reads "The Olive."

Poems of Persistence, Solidarity, and Refuge – Purvi Shah

We are each other's harvest; we are each other's business; we are each other's magnitude and bond.  ― Gwendolyn Brooks  

Split This Rock Virtual Open Mic announcement includes a black background with red Split This Rock logo, text that reads "Virtual Open Mic," and an illustration of a hanging lamp sending out rays of light over a laptop.
As we journey through political, economic, and global health crises, we turn to poetry to share truths that unearth underlying causes, illuminate impacts, and insist on transformative change. For many of us, today’s challenges are not new. The struggle of isolation, economic insecurity, inadequate medical care, deadly institutionalized negligence, governmental decisions that put Black, Brown, Indigenous, Asian, disabled, sick, and other structurally precarious people at greater risk are not new. Today, many more people are experiencing the vulnerability of these unrelenting issues. We recognize this opportunity for a heightened awareness of how our very survival depends on one another.

Poetry can help keep the flame of resilience, solidarity, and resistance alive in us. It can help us process and move through grief, anger, loneliness. Poetry can be a comfort when the most necessary actions are to rest and recover. It can remind us of what’s at stake, that our lives and legacy are worth the fight. As cultural workers, we know that culture shapes our political and social imagination at a foundational level. As poets, we can use poetry to map what is, what has been, and possibly, the way forward, including the reasons not to return to what does not honor and protect our lives, our communities, and our planet. 

We asked poets to give us the words they chant to get out of bed, to raise their fists, to encourage their kin, to remind us, as this crisis does, that “we are each other’s business; we are each other’s magnitude and bond.” To read all of these poems, visit Split This Rock’s website.

***

Saraswati nods to the white man who, after hearing her liberation poems, embroiders “dowry”
By Purvi Shah

Even now, goddesses
                                                                       outlast colonialism.




Listen as Purvi Shah reads "Saraswati nods to the white man who, after hearing her liberation poems, embroiders "dowry"."