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" "I marked myself once with a knife. I was disappearing into the adolescent sea of rage and destruction. The mark of pain assured me of my own reality. The cut could speak. It had a voice that cried out when I could not make a sound in my defense. I never made such a mark again. Instead I chose to slash art onto canvas, pencil marks onto paper, and when I could no longer carry the burden of history, I found other openings. I found stories. (p91)
Joy Harjo (May 9, 1951) is a poet, musician, author and the first Native American United States Poet Laureate.
Biography information from Wikiquote
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[...] my father staggering in drunk, beating my mother, the shame and hate in him burning, burning. Then he'd hit my brothers. And then me whom it was said he loved most. He'd save me for last, when his anger was ashes, when the fire was hottest. And then he's hold me, 'Sugar, sugar', he's croon, the tears so thick they made a lake on the linoleum floor.
DIRECTIONS TO YOU Rainy Dawn Ortiz Follow them, stop, turn around Go the other way. Left, right, Mine, yours. We become lost, Unsteady. Take a deep breath, Pray. You will not always be lost. You are right here, In your time, In your place. 1. North Star, guidance as we look up To the brightest white Hoping it leads you to where you want to go, Hoping that it knows where you should be. We find our peace here in the white, Gather our strength, our breath, and learn how to be. 2. East The sun rises, Red, Morning heat on our face even on the coldest morning. The sun creates life, Energy, Nourishment. Gather strength, pull it in Be right where you are. 3. South Butterfly flits Spreads yellow beauty. We have come to this moment in time Step by step, We don’t always listen to directions, We let the current carry us, Push us, Force us along the path. We stumble, Get up and keep moving. 4. West Sunsets, brings Darkness, Brings black. We find solitude, Time to take in breath and Pray. Even in darkness you Can be found. Call out even in a whisper Or whimper, You will be heard. To find, To be found, To be understood, To be seen, Heard, felt. You are, Breath. You are, Memory. You are, Touch. You are, Right here.
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(What advice do you have for minority writers who are fighting to be heard or who are struggling for legitimacy in American literature?) Remember that you are born with gifts that need to planted and grown. This "American" culture is young and rootless. It is adolescent with an adolescent sense of time and place that is "here and now," with no reference or power rooted in the earth, ancestors, or historical and mythical sense. Value your community and what that has to offer and continue to reach out beyond what you know to grow fresh ideas, meetings between borders, new roots. (2008)