This is Melissa Ford Lucken, Rosalie Petrouske, Susan Serafin-Jess, editors for the Washington Square Review. Washington Square On-Air showcases the poetry and fiction of the latest edition of LCC's literary journal, The Washington Square Review, read by the poets, authors, and editors themselves. Expect the unexpected as our contributors express experience and fantasy with humor, imagination, poetic license, irony, and passion. If you love language at its most original, please join us in our audio Town Square to celebrate a community of writers spanning from around the world to Lansing.

Hey, everyone. This is Melissa Ford Lucken from the Washington Square Review. I'm one of the editors. I'm happy to have Carole Greenfield with us today. Her piece is Equilibrium Line is the very first piece in our Summer 23 journal, and we're really happy to have you here today. Carol, the first thing I'd like to know a little bit about is your piece. How did you come to write it and what was going on in your life at the time?

So for a while now, I've been working on pieces that take as their title a geological term, and then I connect that with an emotional experience that I'm going through or that I'm reflecting on. And Equilibrium line was one of the terms that I loved and have held for many years, but was not able to find the right poem to go with it. So when I finally did, it felt like a kind of satisfying completion because I just liked what an equilibrium line represents and what it means.

So talk a little bit about what it means to you, the Equilibrium line.

Yeah, I mean, I think when we think about equilibrium, we think of balance and something that we're always striving to find and lose and find again. In geological terms, what it means is on a glacier, it's the boundary at which the addition of materials just balances the loss. And to me, that just sort of speaks to what we deal with in our life. Like, how do you find that balance of what you've lost, what you've gained? And I think what was going through for me when I wrote this poem was I'm in my second marriage and I was reflecting on what caused my first marriage to end and thinking, am I repeating patterns, or can I make a different choice and think about things in a different way so I won't repeat myself? I won't have the same history happen. Is it inevitable, like what happens in geology, or is it actually something that I can control somewhat? So those were kinds of the things I was working with and thinking about when I wrote the poem.

That's really beautiful because that's something everyone can relate to throughout life. We are always constantly, you know, redefining, redefining and finding new edges. And our lives are constantly changing, which is interesting when you start to think about the geological terms and compare geology to real life experiences. How did you come across this concept?

I will tell you, many, many years ago, back in the early 90s, I was working for a short time at a science research company, which, if anyone knows me, that seems bizarre because I'm anything but a scientist. I was in the, sort of the common room and I happened to see this book called Physical Geology. And for some reason, Melissa, I picked it up and I opened it and it just. The terms to me seem crystal clear that, oh, this is about emotion. And I did something I've only done twice in my life. I stole the book, I took it home, and I never brought it back. I still have it. And I started taking notes and thinking that I would write a series of geology poems. And I called it the Geology Series. And I proceeded at geological pace. So this was back in 92, and my collection just came out this year, so you can see it was like an eon. So that's actually how I got started. It just, to me seemed obvious that they were connections to emotion. And I've been kind of playing with them ever since.

Can you offer a couple of the other terms that inspired you?

Oh, absolutely. The first one, actually, I think Equilibrium Wine was one of the first, but the actual first was probably cleavage, because it's such an interesting term because it means so many different things, but in geology it means it's the zone of weakness where if you hit the crystal or the rock, it splits. And I started thinking, we all have those zones of weakness within us, and if they're struck a certain way, we might break apart, even though cleavage also means coming together. So I think that was the very first one, and then there's many others. The book actually is divided into two sections. The first section are all geological terms. The other one, I'll say, which is connected to my work, which is teaching children. One of my earlier ones was called Trace Fossils, which is about not a fossil, but the evidence of a fossil. And I connected that with some of the work I do with children.

How did you connect it with your work with children? That particular one, I could read it.

It's a short one, if you want.

Yes, please.

So trace fossils are fossils in which evidence of organisms rather than the organisms themselves are preserved. So trace fossils, small children, do not wait for pain to make A lasting mark they give fair warning we have time to wipe off tears Mop up trouble Kiss a bruise pronounce it healed but love leaves an impression that won't be kissed away an imprint left in something soft hardens and congeals what passed through fire once is tempered then annealed Children trace fingers over fossils Guessed at what's revealed Evidence of ridges indentations lifelong over hearts rush sealed.

Very nice. Thank you for reading that.

Thank you, too. Yeah.

So now we've kind of like, scooted over into the area of your teaching. So could you tell us a little bit about the teaching that you've. That you're doing now and how you came to be there?

Yeah, absolutely. I originally came to teaching resisted by resistance because my whole family are teachers. And when I was younger, I absolutely said, there's no way I'm going to be a teacher, but it's in my genes and it's all around me. And eventually I found my way to teaching adults in homeless shelters. I was part of a group of writers teaching writing, and the philosophy was, these are people on the fringes of society who don't have a voice. And our job was to give them a voice and to be heard. And what I learned from that work, which I still believe, is that everyone's life matters and everyone has a story to tell. And each individual person is the only and the best person to tell his or her their own story. And what we can do is write together and then listen to each other's story. And then from there, I went to teaching adult ELL English language learners. And it was all through writing, having us write, and we wrote poetry, and I published an anthology of their poetry. And that's when I really kind of created. Caught on fire about realizing how important writing was. I always knew for me it was important, but it was a way into another language for my students. And then after teaching adults for several years, I went back to graduate school and then ended up teaching children. And my favorite thing to do with children is teach writing and to have them all believe that their story and their lives are important. And for me, the best way to do that is to have them write and then share it and read it and listen with full attention and presence. And so that's something that's been with me ever since I started teaching, and I still very much believe it.

That's quite interesting that you went back to school and then started teaching children, because a lot of times we see people that are teaching children and then they go back to school. And then they kind of like move up in academia. So how did you make that decision to work with children?

Well, I went back to school planning to teach adults and I had no intention of teaching children. I said, I don't like children. I don't. I, I didn't. Nothing to do with children. But the program I was in had as sort of an add on. You get certified to teach in the public schools. And I figured, well, I'll just get it just to have it in the background if I ever need it. And then I needed a job and there was a position and it was horrendous. My first few years I was very overwhelmed and I just thought, I can't do this. But with each passing year, I really grew to love it. And I discovered I really like being with young children. I work with the little ones from age 5 to 11, I think because they're so alive and they're so present. When you're with young kids, you can't be anywhere else. You have to be right there with them. And they give me hope and they make me feel like there's still something purpose to be alive and to make change. And they, they kind of lift my heart every day. So I feel lucky. I didn't expect it, but I feel very lucky to have found it.

That's very cool. I'm thinking while you're talking about how kids don't know the rules of creative writing when they're that young. So I would imagine that they would be pretty free and appreciate the opportunity just to express themselves. And they don't yet have those expectations or those worries about is it good enough or who's going to read it and where's it going to go?

I think so, and I think even more so with poetry because there's not as many rules. And when you tell a seven or eight year old, you don't have to worry about where the period goes or you don't have to worry about, but there's not one right way to do it. I feel like that's the kind of freedom and I found with the young kids, even the kids that struggle with writing poetry is often a way for them to feel successful and capable. And I've seen kids sort of blossom, especially around second grade, like seven or eight years old, they just kind of come alive with poetry.

So I could imagine that might have been similar in the homeless shelter or with the ELL learners to know that there's no rules.

I think with the Ellers especially, what I found was they would come at the language with a different way. And I almost. I didn't want to correct their English because it was such an original and unique way of phrasing because they didn't have all the words. So they would sort of put the words together either based on their own syntax or what vocabulary did have. But no matter what level they were, from beginning to advance, they could write a poem and they could share some of their emotion, which, especially for adults, they're carrying a lot. A lot of them were coming from situations that were very difficult or where they had to give up everything. So to have their voices heard again, I thought was really, really important.

I would imagine that in that context, they're getting to use the language in their own way, not as a practical tool. Like, if they've come to the United States and they need to learn English as a practical tool, you're giving them another way to see the language as a creative outlet.

Yeah, I think it was both. So my classes have often folked focus on both of them. Yeah, certainly. And the same thing for the kids, too. You need to know how to use the language, because that's power, and you also can do it expressively. That's uniquely you. So kind of having those both, because I feel like you also have to let them know what is the correct way, and then where are their avenues, where that's not as significant, I could see.

So giving them a contrast helps them understand both sides.

I think so, yeah. It always continues to amaze me how much children understand and the leaps they can make with the language, for sure.

So I want to kind of backtrack a little bit. You mentioned that you were working in a. In a science lab. Was it? Yeah. Okay, so it wasn't a lab.

It was. It was a research company.

Okay.

And so my job. And it was actually interviewing teachers, so that made some sense to me. But it was a lot of data collection. I remember just sitting all day, just typing in a room by myself and thinking, this is not working. I need to be among people.

And you also let me know that there was a gap in your creative output.

Yes, I was writing very much in the 80s and 90s. Well, actually, I'll tell you what the gap was. Many of my poems, especially the geology ones, had to do with relationships that weren't working. And it was my way of sort of processing and coming to terms and making peace and trying to understand. And then I got married the second time, and I stopped writing. I said to my husband, you ruined my writing, because I can't write if our relationship is working, that's not interesting. So there was a long gap. And then eventually other things kind of started to come up, and I also went back, but really the impetus for gathering the poems together and trying to publish them was my mother's always been the one saying, when are you going to publish the geology series? And then a year ago in February, she was diagnosed with cancer. And I thought, I don't have any more time. And that's when I started just submitting poems every day online, which I'd never done. And I had no idea what I was doing, but I thought, I need to do this before she dies. And that was really the impetus. And I think I submitted over 600 poems hundreds of places for months and months and months. And then one by one, that sort of started kind of catapulting, and I started getting acceptances in different places. But that was really the impetus.

When you were writing the poetry before, before the big gap, were you in the practice of submitting at that time?

I was, and they were on. They were in print. So I had a few acceptances, but very, very few. Maybe six or seven. Not that many. And then I just. I think I lost faith. I went to. I did. I did a poetry workshop, and people really criticized my poetry, and I just kind of shut down and thought, yeah, this isn't for me. I don't need this. And I think because I felt discouraged and afraid. And then I realized the only way you're not a poet is if you stop writing. So then I started writing again and started taking some online classes and was able to join a group of women. Now we meet once a month. We were members of a class together, and that's kind of helped me believe again, you know, and have more faith in myself.

Does your group. Do you read each other's poetry and comment or read and support? How do you guys shape that?

Yeah, we usually do, like, a writing activity, a writing. One of the women reads poems, and then we take lines from the poems and write from those, and then we read to each other and then kind of read back and give comments. So, yeah, it's just a very supportive group. All writers, all poets. Again, it's sort of kind of like back to the homeless shelter. It's the idea of creating a space where you can be heard your voice just by someone listening to your words is already empowering.

Yeah. And nurturing the community and helping each other and looking out for each other.

Absolutely.

That sounds pretty great. I was thinking while you were describing that. That. That must have carried over into your own experience when you guide the workshops, looking out for people's creativity. Because what you described of having gone through that negative experience, I think a lot of writers can go through that kind of negative experience, and it really can stick with you, even though you know intellectually that you should be able to just shake it off. Sometimes it just sticks with you, and it's really hard.

I think one of the best things I learned from one of my poetry teachers, watching her when I was in college, when we would read dreadful poetry, I remember how she would listen and she would always find something positive to say about everyone's poem, no matter how awful. She would even find that word right there. And I feel like that's what I've taken. One of the things I've taken as a teacher when I'm working with adults or kids is finding a way to validate what they said, even if it's one or two words. Before you talk about what's not working or what you might want to work on, you have to find something authentically positive that you can say, how does.

Your poetry fit in with the rest of your life? With your family, friends, non poet friends?

I think most people who know me know me as a writer, and I feel like that's my identity as much, if not more than being a teacher, because I've been writing since I was a little girl, so they think of me as a writer, as a poet. I felt very supported by family and friends. A lot of celebrating, a lot of cheering me on, which is wonderful.

That is very, very important, especially when everyone in your family knows that you're writing and you're actively submitting and that you have a book coming out, and that's really great.

One of the lovely things, when the book did come out, my publisher wanted me to try to get a reading at a bookstore in a library, and I tried, and no one was calling back. So one of the members of my writing group said, well, that's ridiculous. I'll have one for you. And she organized a reading in her backyard and publicized it. And it was wonderful. And that just kind of, again, touched my heart that people cared enough to do that.

Talk a little bit about that publication journey. What was it like when you got the acceptance and how did you celebrate?

It was wonderful. I actually met a poet. I was doing an online reading for another organization, and he was also. It was sort of an open kind of mic thing, and he and I liked each other's poetry, and we started emailing and it turned out he was just starting. He had an online magazine, but he was just starting a publishing company. And he said he'd be interested. And I said, okay. I took it with a grain of salt. But we continued to have conversations. And he said, put the manuscript together. And I really kind of couldn't believe it, but I did, and they accepted it. So it was thrilling. It felt like something I wanted to do before my time here is done and before my mother's time here was done. And for me, that the most important thing was the day I was able to walk into her house and give her the first copy of the book.

That does sound amazing. I'm sure she was ecstatic to see it. One of the things that students sometimes ask me about when it comes to poetry and putting it together in a manuscript is how do you decide what order to put the poems in? How do you decide to arrange them? So here's my chance to ask someone who's done this.

Yeah, that was definitely a challenge. And deciding, do I put all the geology poems together or not? So I did. I grouped all the geologies together. It was like a puzzle, like saying, okay, which one looks good next to this one? Which one is too similar? Which one is. Where's the contrast? An arc, like starting out with more of the sort of the ecstatic, joyful, passionate parts about love. And then what happens when things start to go wrong and start to erode, as it were? So that was kind of a journey with the geology part, but I want to balance it with other poems that were not so fraught. And the second half of the book has sort of more. The quieter poems, the poems about some of my teaching or family members, and a little more variety of types of poems, too. That was another contrast, like short poems, long poems, poems that have a specific meter and structure versus the more free verse. So I guess balance so the reader would continue to be interested was sort of what was guiding me.

I like that. So it's an emotional, intellectual mix. A combination.

Yeah, I'd say so.

Was there anything about the publication process that was surprising to you?

Oh, yes. What was surprising was I thought it was kind of funny. And just the lesson I took away from it was how incredibly subjective poetry is, was how many places said, no, no, no, no, no. And then other people would say, I love it, that I want that poetry. And it just. It made me. I thought it was humbling. And it was a good lesson for my ego to realize, you know what? Some people love it, Some people hate It. You just can't take it too personally. So that, I think was sort of the surprise, but also a good lesson.

For sure, because anyone who is thinking about submitting, that's a really key thing to keep in mind is that all, you know, fiction is also subjective. And a person that can get a whole bunch of just flat rejections can all of a sudden get somebody who's like, this is awesome.

So it was both humbling and exciting at the same time, realizing you just never know.

Yeah. It must have been similar to the experience that you had when you sent out all the poems, the 600 submissions.

Yeah, it was like. It was almost a daily practice. Like, all right, I'm sending out this one, this one, this one. And I just kept track of it. And it was something. It was a process I really enjoyed, I think, because it wasn't so stinging. It felt wonderful when it was accepted, but it didn't feel terrible when they weren't. So I just thought, okay, it's not right for them next, and I would send it somewhere else. So it was. It was actually a very good practice of letting go, of not being so attached to having it have to be published. I figured if it's going to be published, it will. It'll find its home at some point.

I wonder if part of what took the sting away was that you sent out so many that you were in the practice, the daily practice of sending them out. So you already had a plan of, okay, if it gets rejected, I'll send it out again?

Yeah, I think so.

Yeah, that definitely makes sense.

Yeah. I mean, it still is wonderful and exciting when you get accepted. It's still a real thrill, you know. Okay, who can I tell?

Yeah, absolutely.

Tell mom and dad first and tell family, then tell friends. Yeah.

So the poems that are in the collection that just came out, some of them were written years ago. Are some of them newer? Like, what's the time span of that work?

They are. I think both of them are. I would say settling is more recent and Equilibrium Line is older. I would say, yeah, Equilibrium Line. As I was looking at it, I realized it's written in a certain format which you wouldn't necessarily know, but there is a form called the American Sentence, which means every line has to have 17 syllables and only 17 syllables, no more, no less. So that poem is actually set up in that format. And what I found from doing that practice was sometimes being in a very strict format makes it easier to deal with a very emotional topic. It kind of gives me a little space to sort of look at it. And I feel like this poem is actually me asking myself some questions about a very painful topic, but getting a little distance so maybe I can see it and let go of some of the pain and see some of the beauty. The issue.

Do you think the structure is kind of like a little security net then? Sort of. So emotionally when it's freeform, it could go anywhere, like water, you know, water filling across a table. But if it has a structure that might hold it in a little bit better.

And I think that's exactly what it is. Melissa. Yeah, it's like you. I'm literally counting out syllables as I'm working with it. So yeah, it does kind of hold. It kind of help you contain so you don't feel like you're going to fly off the edge of the page.

So it's a little bit of a therapeutic process in that regard. Different from the free poetry. How does your future look for poetry? Like, I'm wondering, where do you get your inspiration now? Because you said a little bit before that it was a lot of ruminating on the past and what you wanted to be different. So where do you get your inspiration now?

I think right now I get my inspiration more from still, from the kids in certain phrases they say. So sometimes because they're learning English, they'll come up with unusual funny phrases. Like for example, one of my students referred to the freezer as the upfridge. So sometimes I'll play with language and see where that takes me. I think where my poem's poetry is going is probably a combination of reflecting back. It's hard for me sometimes to not get discouraged or despairing about the way things are going climate wise, environmentally. So I think I'm trying to sort of hold that. That sadness with still finding joy and beauty in the world that's still here, the love that's still here. So I think my poetry is kind of trying to make hold that equilibrium line, basically still balancing the loss and the gains and find ways to put it out there that's not so heavy, it's a little more tender.

Do you write most every day or how do you do, how does your schedule go?

I try to do a writing practice every morning, like sort of like a timed right where I just keep writing and writing and writing and that's almost like a warm up and helps me get in shape. So then when the poems come, I'm in shape to kind of work with them. So I find when I'm doing a regular writing practice, it's easier to take on a poem when I feel inspired. It's not that I sit and wait to be inspired because that doesn't happen. You have to be in shape. You can't just suddenly get up and say, I'm going to run a marathon today, but you can run every other day so you're ready for the longer haul.

I think that's an essential message in all creative writing, is that inspiration may or may not be with you when you start, start, approach the page, but taking advantage of the time that you have and like you said, the environment that you have, the emotional and intellectual environment and doing something with it and then just waiting to see what shows up. That's very cool. What are you working on right now? Another anthology collection or individual poems?

I'm right now kind of collecting the poems that weren't in the place first. First collection and I started a file now of the ones that have not yet been published. And thinking about do I still want to do more geology? Because there's tons of terms. So I think I'm trying to right now decide is that if I want another one or do I want a completely different direction. So that's where I'm kind of sitting right now. Figure that out as I continue to write.

That's the benefit of the creative process, is you can wait on it. Know on some levels you need the. The guidance before it feels right.

Yeah.

So tell us where listeners can find your published works.

Yeah, so they can find my published work. There's only one. Well, they can find the published works in many different magazines online and I can get that to you if you want. The collected. The collected one book. It's available on Amazon. It's available at Brookline Booksmith and I can give you that link and the publisher are Beltway Editions and they also have copies of it. Okay. And get that information to you.

Wonderful. We'll put that in the show notes and certainly they can find your pieces in the Washington Square Review.

Yeah. Thank you so much.

Yeah. Thanks a lot for joining us today.

Thank you for having me. It was a pleasure.

Bye bye.

Thank you for listening to our talented poets and authors. Until next time, this has been Washington Square On-Air, where we showcase selections from Lansing Community College's literary journal, The Washington Square Review, a publication featuring writers from the Great Lakes State, across the nation and around the world. To find out more about The Washington Square Review, visit lcc.edu/wsr. We hope you enjoyed listening as much as we enjoyed sharing.