How can I possibly write 30 poems in November again this year?
And how could I not? Today I explain why my commitment to finding poetry in a difficult story at a difficult time nearly derailed my desire to help immigrants in my community.
When the leaves turn color and float down from the trees, my thoughts turn to poetry — and writing lots of it!
That’s because every fall the Center for New Americans (CNA), our local champion for immigrants in our community, sponsors a poem-a-day fundraiser to support immigrants, refugees, and asylum seekers.
Poets sign up to write a poem a day in November to raise money to support CNA’s free English classes, and our colleagues, neighbors, friends, and family support the poem-a-day-challenge with donations in any amount.
You can donate using this link:
I’ve participated in this fundraiser for many years. I've also supported CNA by doing some tutoring and I volunteer when I can with their citizenship clinic.
So as the days began to grow shorter, I knew that I’d soon need to make a decision about joining the fundraiser again this year, as I usually do.
But there were some baked-in problems.
For one, I anticipate being pretty preoccupied by current events during the first week in November, and probably longer. I don’t think I need to explain that any further.
That, plus my current writing commitments and projects made me seriously question whether I could say yes to fundraising and writing 30 poems in 30 days this year — even for such an outstanding cause.
And even if I did say yes, how could I write the equivalent of a poem a day, while writing poetic translations of the Hebrew Matriarch Sarah's story? I’m literally learning biblical Hebrew as I go, and even translating one short verse a day is a stretch — let alone making poetry from it.
I was ready to let the event organizers know that I’d be sitting on the sidelines this year.
But then then there’s this:
The stakes for our neighbors who are refugees, immigrants, and asylum seekers could hardly be any higher. (I seem to say something along those lines every year — and sadly, every year it has been true.)
How could I step aside in a year like this, no matter how overwhelmed and filled with anxiety I might feel?
Plus there’s the fact that Sarah and Abraham’s story of migration is absolutely relevant. Since you’ve been witnessing my process of writing The Life of H: Sarah, Reimagined, you I believe strongly that if we let ourselves be humbled and transformed by it, we might not be in the environmental, geopolitical, and sexist messes we are now in.
Think about this:
Sarah and Abraham’s story is all about leaving home, becoming migrants, crossing borders, and navigating new terrain.
Sarah and Abraham started off as people with status and wealth in a bustling and sophisticated city.
It’s possible that they left their first home in Ur (now southern Iraq) and moved to Haran (modern-day Turkey near the Syrian border) to escape political persecution.
To follow their spiritual calling, the couple then moved farther and farther away from the lives they once knew, leaving behind family and their ancestral lands, as they ventured into the unknown.
Once they established their new home, Sarah and Abraham also become examples of hospitality as they welcomed strangers into their tents. As newcomers to the land, they also showed restraint and fairness when dealing with their neighbors.
As spiritual seekers, they moved from city life to tent life, eschewing strong walls for portable huts. And within a story driven in part by a promise of land, the only property they purchased, is the burial plot that Abraham secured for Sarah.
Yes, yes, I know: There are also some complex and troubling scenarios in this story, too.
But as you know if you’ve been following The Life of H: Sarah, Reimagined for a while, I use poetry to unearth the wisdom in it, and I believe that a revived understanding of this story still could lead us on a path toward deeper, healthier, and more humane ways of living with one another — and teach us to be more welcoming of new arrivals in our lands as well.
So, you can see why I just had to find a way to make this November fundraiser for today’s immigrants work alongside my poetic goals.
And, I have!
I have made the commitment to once again lace up my metaphoric sneakers and participate in the 30 Poems in November fundraiser by adapting the poem-a-day concept to my project.
And today I’m asking for your support
Here’s what I’ll be doing beginning Nov. 1:
For 30 days in November I will attempt to (at least) write a rough poetic translation of a verse from Sarah’s story each day.
Even that will be a stretch. But that’s okay! Because with your support this effort will benefit the women, men, and families in my community who are here to pursue the American dream, and who are working hard to learn English and become productive and dedicated US citizens.
And here’s what’s in it for you:
For anyone who donates to my 30 Days in November Challenge:
In addition to knowing that you are contributing to an amazing cause, you’ll receive complimentary access to paid subscriber benefits for three months.
Plus, I’ll share my poetic translations, poems, and fundraising progress with you as I go.
You can donate using this link:
This week’s poem
Using a poetic form of fragmentation and re-creation (the cento) today’s poem, “Terah’s Daughter,” opens up the pain of a biblical promise of land. Although only fertility — not land ownership — is part of Sarah’s direct covenant with God, she is central to the narrative. While the words of the poem carry the burden of a broken history, the form itself holds the promise of building new stories out of the old.
“Terah’s Daughter,” Copyright Tzivia Gover, all rights reserved:
To learn more about today’s poem, and for information about to poetic form known as the cento, read the full post here:
And here’s some more about learning biblical Hebrew and sharing with you as I go:
Coming events:
The Poetic Dream: Tapping into the Subconscious for Creative Inspiration
with Tzivia Gover (hosted by Hudson Valley Writers, via Zoom). November 3, 12:30 pm - 2:30 pm.
Dreams can offer new writers and experienced scribes alike first drafts, prompts, or guidance for their writing. Likewise crafting poems from dreams can help people find new levels of creative self-expression, insight, meaning, and even healing. In this workshop we will use dreams and other material from the subconscious mind (including random imagery, dreamlike waking experiences, guided daydreams, etc.) to spark poems and other creative literary expressions.
This workshop is open to all participants, whether they consider themselves poets or not, and whether or not they recall their dreams.
NB: This class will be capped at 15 students. Registration required. For more info click here.