Where I’m From
by Sebastian Armstrong
I am from the tip of a soldering iron,
From a sea of five hundred electrolytic capacitors,
spilling across the rough surface of a hardwood table
amongst the innocent gaze of a silky black cat.
I’m from long loose screws, supporting the planks of a bunk bed,
I am from: turn off the computer!
And from a window, open to the cool night and to the call of the barred owl.
I’m from steaming enchiladas, stuffed with too much vegan cheese
From: I want a sunbutter apple pizza!
To a puddle of oil on a hot skillet, browning monstrous pancakes.
And I am even from those tiny black ants,
Which you find in a cardboard box of chunky granola cereal.
I’m from a slip knot, tied in the mainsheet of a four twenty
from the worn pedals of a sturdy black bike
And from an overturned canoe, the sides, a foggy red.
I am from a vine’s thin stem, leaves shadowing fragments of the garage window
From a tree by the brook,
Half fallen, yet still supporting a rope swing
And I am from a wild forget-me-not,
The one sprouting from my lawn, reaching in between blades of thick green grass.
Soldering Iron: A tool that melts a small amount of metal to connect electrical components together.
Electrolytic Capacitor: A device used in electronics to store a small amount of energy through the use of an electric field.
Sunbutter apple pizza: A combination of sunbutter toast and apple slices, my youngest brother’s favorite lunch.
Four twenty: The name of the sailboat used by the sharon high school sailing team.
A tree by the brook: Part of a line to the song “Stairway to Heaven” by the band Led Zeppelin. The line in my poem is also a reference to an actual tree in the woods that holds a rope swing and that I can hike to from my house.
by Sebastian Armstrong
I am from the tip of a soldering iron,
From a sea of five hundred electrolytic capacitors,
spilling across the rough surface of a hardwood table
amongst the innocent gaze of a silky black cat.
I’m from long loose screws, supporting the planks of a bunk bed,
I am from: turn off the computer!
And from a window, open to the cool night and to the call of the barred owl.
I’m from steaming enchiladas, stuffed with too much vegan cheese
From: I want a sunbutter apple pizza!
To a puddle of oil on a hot skillet, browning monstrous pancakes.
And I am even from those tiny black ants,
Which you find in a cardboard box of chunky granola cereal.
I’m from a slip knot, tied in the mainsheet of a four twenty
from the worn pedals of a sturdy black bike
And from an overturned canoe, the sides, a foggy red.
I am from a vine’s thin stem, leaves shadowing fragments of the garage window
From a tree by the brook,
Half fallen, yet still supporting a rope swing
And I am from a wild forget-me-not,
The one sprouting from my lawn, reaching in between blades of thick green grass.
Soldering Iron: A tool that melts a small amount of metal to connect electrical components together.
Electrolytic Capacitor: A device used in electronics to store a small amount of energy through the use of an electric field.
Sunbutter apple pizza: A combination of sunbutter toast and apple slices, my youngest brother’s favorite lunch.
Four twenty: The name of the sailboat used by the sharon high school sailing team.
A tree by the brook: Part of a line to the song “Stairway to Heaven” by the band Led Zeppelin. The line in my poem is also a reference to an actual tree in the woods that holds a rope swing and that I can hike to from my house.
Where I'm From
by Carissa Julien
I am from the month of the Leos and the Virgos
From where summer closes and fall opens.
I am from curry and chadobeni
the rich spices that linger on your tongue long
after you have finished your meal.
I am from “come help me do this” and
“Put your dishes away”.
I am from long, tiresome nights spent pouring over my
school work and flash cards.
I am from a dance studio of pointed toes, arabesques, and
picture perfect piques.
I am from Fountain of Grace Church
Where I religiously spend my Sundays.
I am from the steep, noisy steps that exposed my
not so swift disappearances from cleaning up my toys
as a child.
I am from the pink tree that wilts in the winter and revives
in the Spring, from the chimes on the lampost
That when the wind blows ring.
I am from cookies and cream savored from Crescent Ridge
and oatmeal raisin cookies gone before
they even touched the table.
I am from a hardworking mother who strives to do
the best for her two kids day in and day out.
I am from a family of love, laughter, and unwavering
compassion.
I am from the walls, shelves, and tables of my grey house
packed tightly together with the family that raised me,
Cherishes me and supports me.
The people that I can count on for anything
Up, down, left, right, and in between
I am from them.
Chadobeni: a spice or condiment from Trinidadian cuisine
by Carissa Julien
I am from the month of the Leos and the Virgos
From where summer closes and fall opens.
I am from curry and chadobeni
the rich spices that linger on your tongue long
after you have finished your meal.
I am from “come help me do this” and
“Put your dishes away”.
I am from long, tiresome nights spent pouring over my
school work and flash cards.
I am from a dance studio of pointed toes, arabesques, and
picture perfect piques.
I am from Fountain of Grace Church
Where I religiously spend my Sundays.
I am from the steep, noisy steps that exposed my
not so swift disappearances from cleaning up my toys
as a child.
I am from the pink tree that wilts in the winter and revives
in the Spring, from the chimes on the lampost
That when the wind blows ring.
I am from cookies and cream savored from Crescent Ridge
and oatmeal raisin cookies gone before
they even touched the table.
I am from a hardworking mother who strives to do
the best for her two kids day in and day out.
I am from a family of love, laughter, and unwavering
compassion.
I am from the walls, shelves, and tables of my grey house
packed tightly together with the family that raised me,
Cherishes me and supports me.
The people that I can count on for anything
Up, down, left, right, and in between
I am from them.
Chadobeni: a spice or condiment from Trinidadian cuisine
Where I’m From
by Faiza Khan
I am from traditional prayer rugs,
weaved to intertwine me closer to my religious roots.
I’m from There is only one God
and Muhammad (s) is His Messenger.
I am from treacherous Sunday School days,
reciting unfamiliar truths from 10 to 2.
I am from the gulleys of Pakistan
the sour stench of sewers I remember
as my home.
I’m from Friday Halakas,
the smell of seasoned chicken, white rice, and fresh salad taunting my appetite.
I’m from balancing two cultures,
from That’s too tight! and Wear a longer shirt!
to Aren’t you hot in that? and Why do you cover up?
I’m from alternating between dress codes
when I alternate between countries.
From perfecting my Tajweed every Saturday night,
to forgetting the verses every summer.
But in one bag there was always a sapara
revealing the divine message,
a miraculous book of truths
to dedicate my life to.
I am from those moments--
worshipping my religion--
growing under godliness.
There is only one God and Muhammad (s) is His Messenger: Referencing the Holy Quran and the oath of accepting Islam.
Sunday School: Where Muslim children can learn about Islam in the form of Quran memorization and recitation, as well as history lessons every Sunday.
Halakas: Friday night prayers for Muslims. In the Sharon Masjid, food is served on Friday nights, as well as lectures to enlighten Muslims on any religious or non-religious topics.
Sapara: Thirty parts of the Holy Quran, split into 30 “books” for young Muslims to read and recite.
Tajweed: Loosely translates to Arabic grammar of Quran recitation.
by Faiza Khan
I am from traditional prayer rugs,
weaved to intertwine me closer to my religious roots.
I’m from There is only one God
and Muhammad (s) is His Messenger.
I am from treacherous Sunday School days,
reciting unfamiliar truths from 10 to 2.
I am from the gulleys of Pakistan
the sour stench of sewers I remember
as my home.
I’m from Friday Halakas,
the smell of seasoned chicken, white rice, and fresh salad taunting my appetite.
I’m from balancing two cultures,
from That’s too tight! and Wear a longer shirt!
to Aren’t you hot in that? and Why do you cover up?
I’m from alternating between dress codes
when I alternate between countries.
From perfecting my Tajweed every Saturday night,
to forgetting the verses every summer.
But in one bag there was always a sapara
revealing the divine message,
a miraculous book of truths
to dedicate my life to.
I am from those moments--
worshipping my religion--
growing under godliness.
There is only one God and Muhammad (s) is His Messenger: Referencing the Holy Quran and the oath of accepting Islam.
Sunday School: Where Muslim children can learn about Islam in the form of Quran memorization and recitation, as well as history lessons every Sunday.
Halakas: Friday night prayers for Muslims. In the Sharon Masjid, food is served on Friday nights, as well as lectures to enlighten Muslims on any religious or non-religious topics.
Sapara: Thirty parts of the Holy Quran, split into 30 “books” for young Muslims to read and recite.
Tajweed: Loosely translates to Arabic grammar of Quran recitation.
Where I'm From
by Delaney Somers
I am from my parents–Maria and Craig
From the six sibling pack of wolves
Whom I am grateful to call my four brothers and one sister.
I am from my mom’s vinegary cleaning products,
Afternoons passed at my dad’s candy stores.
I’m from countless dinners at Border Cafe,
Picking ‘forbidden’ apples at the orchards of Big Apple Farm,
Waterfires by the soothing river of Providence,
And sledding down the shimmering hills of the Berkshires.
I am from my mother’s “It is what it is” or “Obrigada”
And all of ours’ “I love you as big as the sky”.
I’m from glossy mugs of lavender tea,
With chocolate chip pumpkin bundt cakes.
I am from fierce games of Clue and Monopoly
From the magnolia tree in my front yard,
Blooming petal pink every spring.
I’m from summer evenings by the warmth of a bonfire
After the shivering chill of a swim in our freezing pool
Only occasionally the right shade of blue.
I am from my Papa’s timeless spider plant,
My grandmother’s tea set and love for my incomprehensible drawings,
And visits to my Nana at the nursing home.
I am from the forest beside our house named ‘Monkey Land’,
Fuschia bleeding heart bushes.
From our vintage jukebox and VHS home videos.
Countless hours spent cheering at basketball games,
Schmying with my father,
And cleaning and giggling with my mother.
From seconds and minutes,
Hours and days and nights,
Sunrises and sunsets,
At their sides.
That’s where I’m from.
Obrigada: Thank you (Portuguese)
Schmying: Window shopping (Yiddish)
by Delaney Somers
I am from my parents–Maria and Craig
From the six sibling pack of wolves
Whom I am grateful to call my four brothers and one sister.
I am from my mom’s vinegary cleaning products,
Afternoons passed at my dad’s candy stores.
I’m from countless dinners at Border Cafe,
Picking ‘forbidden’ apples at the orchards of Big Apple Farm,
Waterfires by the soothing river of Providence,
And sledding down the shimmering hills of the Berkshires.
I am from my mother’s “It is what it is” or “Obrigada”
And all of ours’ “I love you as big as the sky”.
I’m from glossy mugs of lavender tea,
With chocolate chip pumpkin bundt cakes.
I am from fierce games of Clue and Monopoly
From the magnolia tree in my front yard,
Blooming petal pink every spring.
I’m from summer evenings by the warmth of a bonfire
After the shivering chill of a swim in our freezing pool
Only occasionally the right shade of blue.
I am from my Papa’s timeless spider plant,
My grandmother’s tea set and love for my incomprehensible drawings,
And visits to my Nana at the nursing home.
I am from the forest beside our house named ‘Monkey Land’,
Fuschia bleeding heart bushes.
From our vintage jukebox and VHS home videos.
Countless hours spent cheering at basketball games,
Schmying with my father,
And cleaning and giggling with my mother.
From seconds and minutes,
Hours and days and nights,
Sunrises and sunsets,
At their sides.
That’s where I’m from.
Obrigada: Thank you (Portuguese)
Schmying: Window shopping (Yiddish)
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