Hi, I’m Kathleen, and I am a writer. I know you only know me as teacher, but I write too.
I teach therefore I write, or is it the other way around. I write to share ideas. I write to discover. I write to weed through my thoughts to find conclusions to baffling questions. I write.
I never thought of myself as a writer, but today…
I am a writer. I spent my day sitting alongside 12 other writers who are struggling to find their voice amongst the din of life. They too are teachers. They too find it hard to discern what to call themselves first. Teacher? Writer?
I spent the day learning from my teacher, Taylor Mali. He often goes by the name of Poet. He was our guide for the day down the path of words. But he tricked us. He threw out little tidbits of sentences, begging us to finish them for him. We kept jumping on whatever scraps he threw out at us. Unwittingly, we were led right to the edge of the cliff. And then….
We were Slam Poets. There I was, standing before the mike, heart pounding in stage fright, slamming a poem I had written just moments before. I’m scared…I can’t do this….I hate you Mr. Mali! But I did it and I thank you Mr. Mali.
And heeeeeeeere’s Kathleeeeeeeeen!
My name means Immigrant-Auslander
The Irish, The German, The American, who left their homeland to find something better,
thinking…hoping that one day they would return.
I am a battered cardboard box full of rocks, all plucked from various childhood adventures.
The rocks, dingy shades of this or that, all seemingly uninteresting.
But when wet….
They glimmer as bright as Ali Baba’s treasures.
My name means “One who runs in woods”.
From the bloodline of hunters, I gain strength from the ancestors who haunt these trails.
I am a Streichholzschachtelchen-a tiny, delicately decorated match-box that holds the promise of light in the darkness,
the promise of warmth in the cold.
Want a glimpse of Taylor Mali the Poet?