Letter to my students

27 March 2020

Dear students:

Wow, that sounded rather impersonal. I miss all of you and am working my way around the room in my head as I type this. Know that I’m thinking about you and the class community a lot.

Some of you have written in your attention exercises about the effects of the pandemic on you. It’s an very stressful time, and easy to get derailed (though getting derailed is also an important part of this experience we’re sharing distantly). But there are some antidotes: E writes about going to the beach and seeing a baby whale breach; S’s busy cooking; J is meditating (keep at it!); C is watching animal videos about inter-species friendships; J is cataloguing disrupted lives for his poem; L is writing about the effects of moving a table in her house, effects that are more dramatic than she’d realized. And J’s fancy google doc system won’t let me in yet! These are the responses I’ve been reading this morning.

Which brings me to this: the most important part of this class—perhaps even before the lockdown and world emergency—was the attention exercise. Your moments of attention have been beautiful and funny and perceptive from the beginning. But now they’re turning into a coping strategy. I know my daily walks with Lilith provide me with many small moments that seem even more precious now: conversations with neighbors, meetings with new dogs and people, stunning views of the Ko`olau mountains from Temple Valley in all kinds of weather. My feelings are mixed: the world’s beauty offers consolation for our difficulties, but also makes me tear up often. I’m reminded of losses—in the past and, I fear, the future—and of how precarious our lives are at all times.

So do the attention exercises with special care—not just for class credit, but also for yourselves.

I’ve started doing yoga with a poet friend, Brenda Kwon, on zoom. That helps ease anxieties and fears. My family is eating together, joking together, annoying each other together. So find releases for your internal exile(!). If you lose a job, know you’re not alone. If a friend or family member gets sick, please reach out to the class and to others. If you need something, ask.

Which brings me to our class. Many of you have moved smoothly into this new space of on-line conversation. Some of you are adjusting more slowly. It’s ok. We may soon have a credit/no-credit option; when that happens, be in touch. The withdrawal period has been extended; if you’re thinking of withdrawing, be in touch. I’d rather you not do that. I have no intention of grading harshly; all I’m looking for now are acts of attention that show up in your reading, your poems, and your lives. If you want to write a poem unrelated to the week’s prompt, please let me know. We can do that.

Important question: how many of you have copies of Donovan Colleps’s Proposed Additions, which we start soon? I can supplement the reading, for those of you who don’t have it, with on-line materials, I’m pretty sure. It’s too bad we can’t have a visit from Donovan, who works at UH Press and is a wonderful person. Maybe another time—I’ll ask him if he’s up for on-line discussions.

In the meantime, be well and take care of yourselves and your families and friends.

Much aloha, Susan S.
PS I see I'm getting J's materials as we speak. Thanks, J!