Seeking Joy

 Seeking Joy

by Jennifer Tianen (McQuillan), 

WBHS Literary Garden Club and Earth Club Sponsor

   

                                        "TEACHER TO TEACHER TO TEACHER"

 For J. Cox

When you took the time to recognize

what I was doing well

you were measuring water into the mouth

of a desert-parched little girl

Now I carry a pitcher,

treasured legacy in my hand. I offer

witness: a voice to say, "I see you."

affirm, "What you can do matters."

argue, "You have something good to share."

Thank you for those flowers planted,

for my sacred mandate to scatter seeds

into every crack in the concrete;

into every unclenched, opening hand.

From Incantations for Rest: Poems, Meditations, and Other Magic 

by Atena O. Danner, 2022. All rights reserved.

   In November of 2022, I was in line at the American Writers Museum in Chicago with my friend Christina from Narrative 4. It was the first time we had met in person; she had driven an hour or more to meet me there (thank you, Christina!) and to listen to Ross Gay read from his newly released book, Inciting Joy. I was so energized from his reading, from the Q & A that followed, and from the intense, exciting conversations we were having in line with a poet and educator we had just met. Atena was thrilled to be there herself, as she had just published her own poetry book and wanted to thank Ross for his inspiration and give him a copy of her work. 

    Atena loved the idea of the Literary Garden. A former teacher now working in education policy in Chicago, we talked about the importance of incorporating nature and joy-filled literature and moments into students' days, especially post-pandemic, with all of its challenges. It was important, all three of us noted, for teachers to have that as well: if exhausted teachers did not find a wellspring for their own social-emotional wellness, we would have nothing left to give: to our students, to our families, and most importantly, to ourselves. 

    That was exactly while I was there. In search of joy, inspiration, laughter. 

    IDEAS for how to adjust, modify, - not pivot, I was so tired of that word! - 

    but to truly change the way I taught. 

    To rethink and rebuild.

   To find the courage to start again. 

    Before I made it to Ross Gay's table, Christina needed to leave. Atena let me go ahead of her. We were the last two in line, and before we parted, she signed a copy of her poetry collection and gave it to me. Stunned by her kindness, I told her that I thought our meeting was meant to be, that she had given me hope that I was heading in the right direction. Her encouragement (and actual directions to my parking garage!) on a chilly November night warmed my heart. 

Thank you, Atena. 

You saw me, teacher to teacher, and reminded me that what I can do matters.

    Why all of this for a Literary Garden post? 

    I encouraged the students to write for this blog while I tried to take a step back. I wanted to showcase their work. The pandemic, however, challenged students in many ways, and I wanted to provide an update for anyone who has ever taken an interest in the Literary Garden. We have wonderfully supportive school, alumni, and community members; incredible partnerships in the civic, business, and state humanities sectors, and a network of authors, museums, libraries, scholars, societies, gardeners, and family members across the country that have been incredibly generous with their time, talents, information, knowledge, funding, and so much more - intangibles that I cannot possibly explain here. 

Please know how grateful I am for 

ALL of the support we have continued to receive over the last 10 years!

  (I meant to publish this three years ago. Whoops!) 

    ROSS GAY: I had the great pleasure of meeting Ross at an NAAEE Conference in 2017 at Wayne State University when he did a reading from his work The Catalog of Unabashed Gratitude. I told him about the Literary Garden (I mean, the man wrote about false indigo in his poetry! I got it!) and asked him how we could honor his work in the Garden. Figs, of course. Mr. Lau's figs:

But, as Robert Frost notes, "...knowing how way leads on to way...." life itself got IN the way, AND a pandemic, so here I was, in Chicago, five years later, reminding this nationally award-winning poet at the end of his very long night at this nationally-award winning museum that he owed me figs. The museum staff wanted me to go home. The museum president wanted me to go home. But I knew that no email could convey my enthusiasm or passion like I can in person. 

Poor Ross Gay. He looked at me bemusedly, if tiredly. Yes, he remembered me and the Garden. Yes, the figs. He laughed. Ok, yes. I was either a Stephen King-level Misery fan or I REALLY loved figs or that poem or... I don't know WHAT he thought, but yes, figs. We'd figure it out. 

And at the very end of May, 2023, we did. 

Thank you, Ross Gay, and Christina, and Atena, and the American Writers Museum, and all of my students over the years, and all of you who take the time to cheer us on in the Literary Garden. We are so grateful, and we are always seeking - and creating - JOY. Moreso in 2026 than ever.