Author Archives: janishaag

I am one of millions today… millions of kids and teachers who are starting their school year (and will likely finish it) at home—not to mention their poor parents who’ve been dragged into home schooling like it or not, or … Continue reading →

“I went up to the door, but I turned away.” —Pat Schneider, Aug. 5, 2020            (June 1, 1934–Aug. 10, 2020) I see you at the door, your hand with its long tributaries of veins pausing … Continue reading →

though the beings rooted to this blue marble must have always looked skyward once darkness pulled its cobalt curtain over their portion of planet. I want to emerge from isolation, coming out of hibernation to be with those who make … Continue reading →

July 1, 2020, west shore, Lake Tahoe   This instant as kids scramble atop a makeshift island floating like a bright penny on chilly emerald water that grows warmer every day. This moment as two teenage boys dive off the dock … Continue reading →

For Dani, who makes it easier to sift and sort They came off garage shelves stiffly like the old creatures they were, sagging cardboard file boxes encumbered with the weight of words on paper, to fwump onto the old concrete … Continue reading →

Once afloat, pulling the water in familiar strokes, you will forget about what it took to get here: the annual oh-my-god-how-round-you’ve-gotten work of donning the suit, stunned at the cleavage you would have died for as a flat-chested teen on … Continue reading →

(for Susan Stewart) Feels like the first time, as the old song goes. Foreigner’s first album dropped in 1977, me a freshman in college, equal parts curiosity, intimidation and hormones, hiking the university to which I commuted daily—my parents entrusting … Continue reading →

For my students at Sacramento City College, who survived the spring 2020 semester Thank God, for the social media post written by some teacher as despairing as I who said, It’s not teaching; it’s damage control. To which I hollered … Continue reading →

For my students of color on the front lines, June 2020 It’s not the fear itself I fear. I’m afraid that I won’t listen well enough to hear your hearts, to have patience as you tell me what is it … Continue reading →

For Dr. Steve Simmons Sept. 14, 1941–June 1, 2020 You have been trying to depart for days, propped up in a strange bed in the living room that no longer looks like home, except for loved ones, both two- and … Continue reading →