Teresa Robeson's Blog, page 5

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Behind the Scenes: “Celebrating Connections” by Teresa Robeson

Ode to a jar of pickles

We were both so green then
in the heat of summer when
we reach for that blue sky,
tendrils and hopes flung high.

Now we’ve both turned sour
and grayer by the hour.
We in our paler versions–
after the autumn incursions
which bared the country’s perversions–
fear this wicked excursion
of moral retroversion.

But you remind us of what is good,
and what can be if we only would
unite to remove the rot
of the trump-musk Gordian knot.

(I’m sorry, pickles, that this has turned out to be more of a lament than an ode to you.)

2 books, one great idea

Behind the Scenes: “Write What You Know” by Nancy Castaldo

Movin’ on up…

I used to like Goodreads as a way to keep track of books I read…that was 20 years ago. But shortly before it was bought by Amazon, I noticed that the app wasn’t working as well as it used to. Plus, there were all sorts of problematic bullying and other weird issues.

And then Amazon bought it. Not only did nothing improve but now it has the stain of Bezos (anyone else think “The Stain of Bezos” makes a great title to a horror story?)

I’d tried twice to go with my own spreadsheet, and that works pretty well when I remember to do it. But when I read this article on The Guardian about a Black-owned alternative, I knew I had found a good alternative to Goodreads.

StoryGraph, here I come!

Anyone else on there? (Comments are open on my own website)

Adventures in Learning podcast

It’s such an honor to be interviewed by the multi-talented Dr. Diane who created the Adventures in Learning podcast where she showcases authors, scientists, educators, and more.

Here’s a description of the episode that I’m on that releases today:
What do starry nebula, Bruce Lee, and disgustingly cool science facts have in common? They are all products of the creative mind of author Teresa 何 Robeson.

In this episode, we welcome back Teresa Robeson, a busy author with a rich background in science and storytelling. Teresa unveils her upcoming books, including Clear and Bright: A Ching Ming Festival Story; Disgustology: The Science of Gross; and a graphic biography, Who Smashed Hollywood Barriers with Gung Fu?: Bruce Lee.

Teresa shares insights into the art of storytelling through visuals and the collaborative process of bringing science and historical moments to life. Our discussion ventures into the mesmerizing realms of astronomy and science literature, with highlights from NASA’s stunning imagery that fueled her recent book, Clouds in Space: Nebulae, Stardust, and Us.

We also delve into the importance of diverse narratives, cultural acceptance, and the role of literature in building empathy. Plus there’s a fun lightning fill in the break taken from listener questions (What language does Teresa speak to her chickens? What are the most disgusting facts she hasn’t written about yet?) This episode celebrates diverse narratives, cultural tales, building our empathy muscles, and the transformative power of storytelling.

Download on all podcast platforms, YouTube, or https://www.buzzsprout.com/2019975/episodes/16730026

Let’s celebrate!

On the one hand, with the country in complete chaos, I feel like this is a terrible time to have a book launch. On the other hand, because of the hateful lunacy that is going on, there’s probably no better time to remind people that this country belongs to all immigrants (and honestly, the country belongs to NO immigrants either since we are all squatting on land stolen from the Indigenous population who was here first).

But since we immigrants are here, let’s celebrate our unique identities and our place in North American history.

Today is the Ching Ming (also known as Qing Ming or Qing Ming in Mandarin) Festival. It’s been celebrated by the Chinese for over 2,500 years. My fond memories of celebrating it as a child in Hong Kong have never faded over the past five plus decades, and some years ago, I wrote a story that incorporated my warm, fuzzy feelings about it with a fictional Chinese family that had lived in America for several generations.

It’s the story of my heart but it took a while for the right people in publishing to appreciate it. Author and historian, Leonard Marcus, wrote some very kind words about the story which ended up winning Silver in the Astra International Picture Book Competition, and it was ultimately sold to Astra Young Readers for publication.

Astra found the most incredible illustrator for the story. William Low is a fine artist whose work is evocative and dreamy. He completely elevated the story and breathed such life into the characters.

One of my all time favorite poems is about Ching Ming (清明). Written by the poet 杜枚, who lived in the late Tang Dynasty, it goes:
清明時節雨紛紛，
路上行人欲斷魂。
借問酒家何處有，
牧童遙指杏花村。

There’s a translation for the poem as well as a short video of a cute kid reciting it on the Cantonese for Families site.

If you want to find out more about this very cool holiday, you can check out this brief Smithsonian article, or read my book, CLEAR AND BRIGHT, which comes out today to coincide with Ching Ming!

A song for the times

I got goosebumps the first time I listened to We Can’t Make It Here by James McMurtry. And I got goosebumps the 142nd time I listened to it (just last night).

Mr. McMurtry wrote the song in 2005 when the lyrics were apropos. Sadly, 20 years later, it’s only gotten more relevant since the November election. I feel like this genius man is the modern day Cassandra and America has let in the wooden horse.

“The simple fact is that James McMurtry may be
the truest, fiercest songwriter of his generation…” – Stephen King | Entertainment Weekly

Read the lyrics, listen to the song, and weep for human greed and stupidity.

There’s a Vietnam vet with a cardboard sign
Sitting there by the left turn line
The flag on his wheelchair flapping in the breeze
One leg missing and both hands free

No one’s paying much mind to him
The V.A. budget’s just stretched so thin
And now there’s more coming back from the Mideast war
We can’t make it here anymore

And that big ol’ building was the textile mill
That fed our kids and it paid our bills
But they turned us out and they closed the doors
‘Cause we can’ t make it here anymore

You see those pallets piled up on the loading dock
They’re just gonna sit there ’til they rot
‘Cause there’s nothing to ship, nothing to pack
Just busted concrete and rusted tracks

Empty storefronts around the square
There’s a needle in the gutter and glass everywhere
You don’t come down here unless you’re looking to score
We can’t make it here anymore

The bar’s still open but man it’s slow
The tip jar’s light and the register’s low
The bartender don’t have much to say
The regular crowd gets thinner each day

Some have maxed out all their credit cards
Some are working two jobs and living in cars
Minimum wage won’t pay for a roof, won’t pay for a drink
If you gotta have proof just try it yourself, Mr. CEO
See how far $5.15 an hour will go
Take a part time job at one your stores
I bet you can’t make it here anymore

There’s a high school girl with a bourgeois dream
Just like the pictures in the magazine
She found on the floor of the laundromat
A woman with kids can forget all that

If she comes up pregnant what’ll she do
Forget the career and forget about school
Can she live on faith? Live on hope?
High on Jesus or hooked on dope
When it’s way too late to just say no
You can’t make it here anymore

Now I’m stocking shirts in the Wal-Mart store
Just like the ones we made before
‘Cept this one came from Singapore
I guess we can’t make it here anymore

Should I hate a people for the shade of their skin
Or the shape of their eyes or the shape I’m in
Should I hate ’em for having our jobs today
No, I hate the men sent the jobs away

I can see them all now, they haunt my dreams
All lily white and squeaky clean
They’ve never known want, they’ll never know need
Their shit don’t stink and their kids won’t bleed
Their kids won’t bleed in their damn little war
And we can’t make it here anymore

Will work for food, will die for oil
Will kill for power, and to us the spoils
The billionaires get to pay less tax
The working poor get to fall through the cracks

So let ’em eat jellybeans let ’em eat cake
Let ’em eat shit, whatever it takes
They can join the Air Force or join the Corps
If they can’t make it here anymore

So that’s how it is, that’s what we got
If the president wants to admit it or not
You can read it in the paper, read it on the wall
Hear it on the wind if you’re listening at all
Get out of that limo, look us in the eye
Call us on the cell phone, tell us all why

In Dayton, Ohio or Portland, Maine
Or a cotton gin out on the great high plains
That’s done closed down, along with the school
And the hospital, and the swimming pool

Dust devils dance in the noonday heat
There’s rats in the alley and trash in the street
Gang graffiti on a boxcar door
We can’t make it here anymore

Artful learning activity for kids!

Especially for Educators: “’Riding a Bike with No Hands:’ Using Sensory Imagery to Infuse Writing With Emotion” by Lisa Rogers

Less stinky…uh, stickler…in my old age

As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, I participate in a fun challenge called #HaikuSaturday. It was started on the platform formerly known as Twitter, but is played on other social media as well. I prefer to stick with Bluesky myself.

I don’t just post a poem, either; I try to engage, too. I share, and sometimes reply to, the posts by friends and people who follow me. For those whom I’m not “friends” with, I Like at least one of their poem per Saturday (some of them crank them out like widgets, which rather makes me suspect that not as much thought has been put into each poem…more like dumping out the contents of a cupboard and calling it dinner than crafting a fine meal with fresh ingredients and care).

Anyway, while looking at other people’s poems, I saw this indignant reply:

That skewed and rigid thinking is often found in those who are not of Japanese heritage trying to write haiku and asserting their (non) authority. I’ll be the first to admit, I was rather militant like that, too, when I was younger and thought I knew better. (It’s so true that the more you actually know, the more you realize you don’t know…I suppose that is the anti-Dunning-Kruger-effect?)

But you know what? Many people who think they know haiku don’t truly, aside from the 5-7-5 rule. According to the Poetry Foundation (and also Encyclopedia Britannica), “….the form originates from the Japanese hokku, or the opening section of a longer renga sequence. In this context, the hokku served to begin a longer poem by establishing a season, often with a pair of seasonal images.”

While I still mentally count the syllable, these days, as I become better-read (and hopefully wiser in my old age), I remind myself that Japanese (like Chinese) words and syllables don’t correspond to English ones and to stop being so damned rigid as though I’m on the autistic spectrum and can’t help myself (my younger child is, so I know about all that; and if you also are and need to count syllables, you do you, my friend! I’m just side-eyeing the erroneously pedantic).

As Jun Fujita, a poet I greatly admire, wrote in 1922, “The so-called oriental influence in western literature today, I am afraid, is taking the form it has assumed in the other arts, which, to a great extent, have adopted the carcass of Japanese pictures and missed the essence.”

If he could give us a word of advice today, I get the feeling he’d advise us to go with the spirit of the origin haiku–invoking seasons–rather than engage in bean counting.

For more about the looser haiku, check out this article on Medium.

More notable women (or girls)!

Behind the Scenes: “Going Off Script” by Janice Hechter