Cultural, Generational Exchanges

One of the first poems I ever wrote was about my Nana.  It was a middle school assignment and I don't even remember what the guidelines were at the time, but it turned out that the poem was submitted for publication and made it.  It was really exciting to see something I wrote included in a book, a publication which included student writing and illustrations from kids in Oregon and Japan.  The book was published with one page having the English version and the opposite page in Japanese. 

By the time this actually made it into print, I was in high school and a little embarrassed by the attention and perhaps that the poem itself was so simple.  Maybe I thought I was too grown up or wanted people to know I was capable of something better, but now that I look back on it, some poems are okay just the way they are.  And it makes me happy that my Nana really loved this one.  There are three copies of this in that yellow folder I'm going through. 

When looking for an image to post with this tonight, I found an interview done by me when reading this poem at Powell's bookstore in Portland, OR.  I had never seen this quote before tonight, so I'll put the whole thing in.  Funny what you can find about yourself on Google, especially if what you said or wrote was in the pre-internet boom.

Nicole Speulda, a high school student who had a poem published in Treasures 3: Stories & Art by Students in Japan & Oregon, tells what it was like hearing from others who had read about her and her writing.

"After my poem was published in Treasures 3, it appeared in several newspapers. I received letters from people that I have never even met before. It’s been pretty exciting to learn what people think about the stories and works that are in the book. One lady thanked us for restoring her faith in the youth of today. I feel really glad that I could be a part of Treasures 3 because it highlights the positive things that the youth of today in both the United States and in Japan have to offer."

My poem entitled “Our Song” is about my grandmother and her nickname is Nana because she doesn’t like the word grandmother. She thinks it makes her sound too old. I chose to write about her because I wrote it when I was fourteen and I was trying to deal with myself growing older and she also was starting to age. This is what I had to say:

Our Song

Nana sat upon the piano bench,
Vibrant eyes fixed upon the page.
Her smooth hands glided over the keys,
Blending together a melody,
So sweet and gentle to my ears.
She played it to me almost every day,
And it became our song.
Now she is stricken with age,
And her gnarled hands are slightly palsied.
Her tired grey eyes search for the notes,
But alas it is to no avail,
As she begins to sob quietly.
I slide next to her on the bench,
And play the melody that will always be
Our song.