Abigail and Kimberly have sent such fine poems: One is a celebration of Hispanic Month…enjoy!

I am From

Abigail

I am from light pink pointe shoes

From capezio and russian pointe

I am from the swampy suburbs of florida

With alligator infested murky swamps ,sunny, sandy beaches, and palm trees galore 

I am from front yard hydrangeas,

With pink and purple flowers smelling saccharine 

I’m from sweet and thick ham on christmas and loud talking for no reason

I’m from the floral and leafy wreaths on the staircase and sentimental pumpkin candles in august

From good ol’ santa claus and easter bunny chocolates

Cherries and the snow, and no baked cookies, family recipes I love to show

I am from the argent, shiny pearls my grandma always wears around her neck

The crawfish boil in Louisiana

Belting Sweet Caroline and Don’t Stop Believin’ at 12 AM on a cruise ship, our voices hoarse

Waiting for eyes of the blind book 4 with anticipation rising

Going to golf games for my famous cousin sam burns,

Hearing the thwack of the club hitting the ball

The sticky, painful mic tape

And the uncomfy wooden box of the pointe shoes on my feet

Going to pride fest with the rainbows and lights

Fireworks and snaps on the 4th of july

The loud “CRACK” splitting the night

Where I’m From 

Kimberly Pineda

I am from the Spanish music my mother blasts as she wakes me up asking for me to help her

clean.

Sometimes the music is heaven to my ears, other times it’s hell to my ears.

I am from the tasty chicken smell coming out of the pot that wanders down the hall while

my mother cooks happily.

I am from the crazy in love couple who left their homeland to give their children bigger and

better opportunities than they ever had.

I am from the countless nights my sister and I stayed up late night laughing trying to stay

as quiet as possible because my mother had worked overtime again.

I am from the cement where all the scars on my body were formed from playing outside with my

sister.

I am from the countless Mexican family-owned stores in my neighborhood.

The Mexican flag waves at me proudly as I walk by those stores and I get a sense of

home.

I am from a community that roams around the world because there are millions of us trying to

escape poverty.

I am from the elderly who are 70 and still work because their family can barely get by. Legally

they cannot stop working either.

First day of fall: Nine new, beautiful poems to start the season!

I am from 

-Anielka Castro

the bounded rope of my Nicaraguan slingshot

From the pages of the amulet and the grips of my controller

I am from green pastures and clear horizons

and where birds sang symphonies for me

I am from the aged oak trees

Whose rugged branches cradled and cared for me

I am from the soft teddy bear stuffing and the yellow was is my crayon.

from the infamous names of Dubon and Castro and from the stubborn and ridiculing backgrounds 

from pouring cold fresh milk in first

from the grains of rice and delicious empanadas

from the first generations of Nicaraguan Canadians 

and from mysteries of my great ancestors

but I will never be from the unruly jungles of Ecuador

I am From 

Mackenzie Arts

I am from a small town in Ontario where everyone knows everyone

I am from an incredibly hard working Dad and a Mom with love that is never outdone

And a hilarious younger sister with a heart of pure gold

I am from going to Sunday School every Sunday, learning how to have faith that is bold

I am from Dad telling me to stay out of trouble, ever since I could walk

I am from making extremely long hop scotches on the driveway with chalk

I am from early bedtimes and waking up at the crack of dawn

I am from many exhausting days of school telling my parents every detail, droning on and on

I am from always saying “I love you like crazy’ to show how much we care

I am from growing up not being able to sleep without my special ‘bear bear’

I am from Nana’s warm fresh baked chocolate chip cookies that tasted oh so good

I am from swimming in our chilly backyard pool all summer for as long as we could

I am from making sweet lemonade to sell at the end of my street for bubble gum money

I am from homemade pizza nights rolling out the thick dough, it’s always so yummy

I am from long games of hide and seek with my cousins in my Papa’s backyard

Playing basketball with my mom in the driveway while she teaches me to be a point guard

I am from going to Camp Kahquah ever since I was only a few months old

Jumping into the lake, tubing, and wakeboarding, the water is never not cold

I am from camp teaching me and shaping me into the person I am today

Running around with family and friends, all we ever do there is play

I am from the best group of friends, laughing until we can barely breathe

Knowing these girls are the ones who will never, ever leave

I am from us talking and getting through hard times together

All these people in my life are so amazing, they are truly treasure 

I am from counting the blessings we have and the many more to come

I am from a life full of love, being grateful no matter the outcome

I Am From

Blake Cary

I am homemade porches and worn door handles,

From punk rock music and EDM,

And firefly fields filled with glowing fairy-like lights,

From loved kitchens and warped door frames.

I am babysitters and cigarette smoke,

From old movie characters and musical plots.

I am home-made pizzas and a light blue lemonade stand,

From long lightning storms and kicking mud,

I am family brunches and ‘the more we are together’,

And peach pie and Tess’s lemon crunch.

I am from reading past my bedtime and muffled laughter,

From school bells and a family debate team that always thought they were right.

I am chronic pain and anti-everythings.

I am from summer camp and minor heatstroke,

From concussions and tendonitis,

And no broken bones (Yet!).

I am from school sports and late-night park practice, 

From therapy and road trips.

I am scholars and high expectations,

And I am anxiety.

I am from

Davina Beam

 I am from stereotypes of drinking maple syrup like it’s water and living in igloos

I am from massive crowds of people around the attractions at Clifton Hill

I am from the swarms of people from around the world just to see the attractions we have

I am from strong smell of coffee from Tim Hortons

I am from the taste of take out food

I am from the mesmerizing taste of home cooked holiday dinners 

I am from the memories of me and my mom cooking foods together

I am from the times me and my little sister did arts and crafts for people

I am from the moments where me and my little brother Darius have fun playing games and talking

I am from the strong scent of smoke

I am from the gloomy looks of my run down road and home

I am from the big scary dogs baking

I am from the soothing scent of fresh rain

I am from the cold feeling of the snow falling from the very light grey sky slowly covering the ground.

I am from a place that looks scary and full of people but under its shell has laughs and smiles.

I Am From

Ethan Bui

I am from long wooden chopsticks

From Rough edged beyblades and trading cards 

I am from the soft fabric of the hammocks 

and the fresh scented plants that stand tall like a giant 

I am from a Bonsai Trees

Whose leaves danced gracefully onto the ground 

I am from the jagged pointy sticks and vast moorish sandcastles

From Nguyen and Bui

And from farming and cooking 

From running wild with our soaring imaginations 

I am from ancient Buddhist temples whose walls were engulfed in moss 

From crispy oily fried noodles and piping hot pho 

From working in the scorching rice field where cicadas buzzed 

And from walking the horde of colossal cows 

I am from travelling on antique boats and the majestic oceans full of marine life  

Where We All Belong ‘I Am From’ Poem

Hailey Hudson 

I am from a place that I call home.
From a place where we wear our hearts out on our sleeve, and fear near nothing. Even though we bicker and fight sometimes, and get lost in the bad.
I am from a place where love grows.
I am from a place that us four call home. 

I am from a place where ‘A La Angela’s’ take on turkey dinner is the invading aroma. From the dinner table where we connect at the end of our days.
Where we play several board games, and leave the clean up to last place.
I am from a place where my brother always makes sure the winner is debated.
I am from a place where giggles erupt and those moments are created. 

I am from a place where we sit under the stars, and the crickets fill the silence. From a place where we talk about our wildest dreams, and looking back at the memories. No goal is too big, no problem is too small.
I am from a place where I feel safe.
I am from a place where we all learned to communicate. 

I am from a place where I found myself.
From a place where I found my love for sunsets and sand under my feet. Doing things together or apart, I found what makes me happy.
I am from a place that we call home.
I am from a place where we all belong. 

I Am From..

Sydney Steele.

I am from a quiet place, smaller than Fort Erie

I’m from neighborhoods filled with children

From a bounce to a swish 

To forever chit-chat of a noisy, big family

From cold wet weather pouring down in the fall, to summer heat

I am from my best friend’s stories of laughter, jokes and fun

From warm backyard fires from evening to night

To toasted marshmallows and steamy soft smores

I’m from tasting new foods, to trying new snacks

I’m from hello, good morning, goodbye at dawn 

I’m from arguing with my mother about this or that

To hearing her say “because I said so” with a calm tone

I’m from family so proud, and happy of me achieving so great

I’m from nights spent playing sports, and chatting with my friends

To others painting or finishing homework from school

I’m from brothers and a sister of love and annoyance

I am from a quiet place where I can be me

I am From

Tugwa Ram Ram

I’m from a little bed next to my sisters,

 from Philadelphia cream cheese and bologna in the fridge.

 Where I’m from it takes a village to raise a child,

 in an open back yard where I’d pick dandelions whose yellow petals made me think they were sunflowers.

 I’m from Android tablets and teddy bears.

 from Khairi and Ramram.

 from arranged marriages between date farmers,

 from dozens of cousins.

 I am from Burgoyne woods BBQs.

I am from mulu7a and 3aseeda 

I am from a man who walked 500 km to get a job,

 I am from Marriage based on Merit.

from school spelling bees that I never won because the colonizers language was so strange to my tongue.

Where I  Am From

William Tran

I am from a sleek 3DS that was passed around.

I am from trading sparkling pokemon cards and flashy beyblades.

I am from a cozy home on a small street, 

and a tiny garden in the backyard.

I am from a lengthy pear tree in the front,

whose leaves danced in the air. 

I am from a giant tree in the back,

whose stretching branches hung my hammock.

I am from a noisy PS3 and chilled juice boxes,

from playing checkers and the game of life.

I am from playing stretched games of chess with my dad and brother.

I am from losing track of time and snacking before meals,

from a steaming bowl of rice and boiling hot pho,

and from crispy chips with a chilled juice box.

I am from yelling Kobe and yeet.

I am from 

-Anielka Castro

the bounded rope of my Nicaraguan slingshot

From the pages of the amulet and the grips of my controller

I am from green pastures and clear horizons

and where birds sang symphonies for me

I am from the aged oak trees

Whose rugged branches cradled and cared for me

I am from the soft teddy bear stuffing and the yellow was is my crayon.

from the infamous names of Dubon and Castro and from the stubborn and ridiculing backgrounds 

from pouring cold fresh milk in first

from the grains of rice and delicious empanadas

from the first generations of Nicaraguan Canadians 

and from mysteries of my great ancestors

but I will never be from the unruly jungles of Ecuador

I am From 

Mackenzie Arts

I am from a small town in Ontario where everyone knows everyone

I am from an incredibly hard working Dad and a Mom with love that is never outdone

And a hilarious younger sister with a heart of pure gold

I am from going to Sunday School every Sunday, learning how to have faith that is bold

I am from Dad telling me to stay out of trouble, ever since I could walk

I am from making extremely long hop scotches on the driveway with chalk

I am from early bedtimes and waking up at the crack of dawn

I am from many exhausting days of school telling my parents every detail, droning on and on

I am from always saying “I love you like crazy’ to show how much we care

I am from growing up not being able to sleep without my special ‘bear bear’

I am from Nana’s warm fresh baked chocolate chip cookies that tasted oh so good

I am from swimming in our chilly backyard pool all summer for as long as we could

I am from making sweet lemonade to sell at the end of my street for bubble gum money

I am from homemade pizza nights rolling out the thick dough, it’s always so yummy

I am from long games of hide and seek with my cousins in my Papa’s backyard

Playing basketball with my mom in the driveway while she teaches me to be a point guard

I am from going to Camp Kahquah ever since I was only a few months old

Jumping into the lake, tubing, and wakeboarding, the water is never not cold

I am from camp teaching me and shaping me into the person I am today

Running around with family and friends, all we ever do there is play

I am from the best group of friends, laughing until we can barely breathe

Knowing these girls are the ones who will never, ever leave

I am from us talking and getting through hard times together

All these people in my life are so amazing, they are truly treasure 

I am from counting the blessings we have and the many more to come

I am from a life full of love, being grateful no matter the outcome

I Am From

Blake Cary

I am homemade porches and worn door handles,

From punk rock music and EDM,

And firefly fields filled with glowing fairy-like lights,

From loved kitchens and warped door frames.

I am babysitters and cigarette smoke,

From old movie characters and musical plots.

I am home-made pizzas and a light blue lemonade stand,

From long lightning storms and kicking mud,

I am family brunches and ‘the more we are together’,

And peach pie and Tess’s lemon crunch.

I am from reading past my bedtime and muffled laughter,

From school bells and a family debate team that always thought they were right.

I am chronic pain and anti-everythings.

I am from summer camp and minor heatstroke,

From concussions and tendonitis,

And no broken bones (Yet!).

I am from school sports and late-night park practice, 

From therapy and road trips.

I am scholars and high expectations,

And I am anxiety.

I am from

Davina Beam

 I am from stereotypes of drinking maple syrup like it’s water and living in igloos

I am from massive crowds of people around the attractions at Clifton Hill

I am from the swarms of people from around the world just to see the attractions we have

I am from strong smell of coffee from Tim Hortons

I am from the taste of take out food

I am from the mesmerizing taste of home cooked holiday dinners 

I am from the memories of me and my mom cooking foods together

I am from the times me and my little sister did arts and crafts for people

I am from the moments where me and my little brother Darius have fun playing games and talking

I am from the strong scent of smoke

I am from the gloomy looks of my run down road and home

I am from the big scary dogs baking

I am from the soothing scent of fresh rain

I am from the cold feeling of the snow falling from the very light grey sky slowly covering the ground.

I am from a place that looks scary and full of people but under its shell has laughs and smiles.

I Am From

Ethan Bui

I am from long wooden chopsticks

From Rough edged beyblades and trading cards 

I am from the soft fabric of the hammocks 

and the fresh scented plants that stand tall like a giant 

I am from a Bonsai Trees

Whose leaves danced gracefully onto the ground 

I am from the jagged pointy sticks and vast moorish sandcastles

From Nguyen and Bui

And from farming and cooking 

From running wild with our soaring imaginations 

I am from ancient Buddhist temples whose walls were engulfed in moss 

From crispy oily fried noodles and piping hot pho 

From working in the scorching rice field where cicadas buzzed 

And from walking the horde of colossal cows 

I am from travelling on antique boats and the majestic oceans full of marine life  

Where We All Belong ‘I Am From’ Poem

Hailey Hudson 

I am from a place that I call home.
From a place where we wear our hearts out on our sleeve, and fear near nothing. Even though we bicker and fight sometimes, and get lost in the bad.
I am from a place where love grows.
I am from a place that us four call home. 

I am from a place where ‘A La Angela’s’ take on turkey dinner is the invading aroma. From the dinner table where we connect at the end of our days.
Where we play several board games, and leave the clean up to last place.
I am from a place where my brother always makes sure the winner is debated.
I am from a place where giggles erupt and those moments are created. 

I am from a place where we sit under the stars, and the crickets fill the silence. From a place where we talk about our wildest dreams, and looking back at the memories. No goal is too big, no problem is too small.
I am from a place where I feel safe.
I am from a place where we all learned to communicate. 

I am from a place where I found myself.
From a place where I found my love for sunsets and sand under my feet. Doing things together or apart, I found what makes me happy.
I am from a place that we call home.
I am from a place where we all belong. 

I Am From..

Sydney Steele.

I am from a quiet place, smaller than Fort Erie

I’m from neighborhoods filled with children

From a bounce to a swish 

To forever chit-chat of a noisy, big family

From cold wet weather pouring down in the fall, to summer heat

I am from my best friend’s stories of laughter, jokes and fun

From warm backyard fires from evening to night

To toasted marshmallows and steamy soft smores

I’m from tasting new foods, to trying new snacks

I’m from hello, good morning, goodbye at dawn 

I’m from arguing with my mother about this or that

To hearing her say “because I said so” with a calm tone

I’m from family so proud, and happy of me achieving so great

I’m from nights spent playing sports, and chatting with my friends

To others painting or finishing homework from school

I’m from brothers and a sister of love and annoyance

I am from a quiet place where I can be me

I am From

Tugwa Ram Ram

I’m from a little bed next to my sisters,

 from Philadelphia cream cheese and bologna in the fridge.

 Where I’m from it takes a village to raise a child,

 in an open back yard where I’d pick dandelions whose yellow petals made me think they were sunflowers.

 I’m from Android tablets and teddy bears.

 from Khairi and Ramram.

 from arranged marriages between date farmers,

 from dozens of cousins.

 I am from Burgoyne woods BBQs.

I am from mulu7a and 3aseeda 

I am from a man who walked 500 km to get a job,

 I am from Marriage based on Merit.

from school spelling bees that I never won because the colonizers language was so strange to my tongue.

Where I  Am From

William Tran

I am from a sleek 3DS that was passed around.

I am from trading sparkling pokemon cards and flashy beyblades.

I am from a cozy home on a small street, 

and a tiny garden in the backyard.

I am from a lengthy pear tree in the front,

whose leaves danced in the air. 

I am from a giant tree in the back,

whose stretching branches hung my hammock.

I am from a noisy PS3 and chilled juice boxes,

from playing checkers and the game of life.

I am from playing stretched games of chess with my dad and brother.

I am from losing track of time and snacking before meals,

from a steaming bowl of rice and boiling hot pho,

and from crispy chips with a chilled juice box.

I am from yelling Kobe and yeet.

Two more amazing poems by Jaenelle Cardinal and Clara Apt. They bring us their worlds, their ancestors there history. Thank you!

I Am From

Jaenelle Cardinal

I am not a leader, not quite yet.

 I am a follower of those before who cut this trail. 

I am my mom, my kokum and her motherI

My mushum, his dad and soon my own father.

Generational galore. 

In the hundreds of thousands, maybe millions more.

 I am, we are, this time came from our people, those silenced and those graved.

Our blood comes from our ancestors; we are all their prayers answered.

 I am a follower, able to advance, only for those who have bled my path. 

I don’t know my language, but it’s still mine. I pray in English, and that’s just fine 

For the Great Spirit understands the heart, hears the mind, 

Feeds the need of what was once our time.

 My people are lost, misplaced so wrong, so now so many roam so sad and alone.

Our eyes carry the peace of the past. 

So troubled to task, so to release, is to deny this cultural claim. 

To drink, to consume all the same assimilated poison, the mind’s broken the spirit stolen. 

I am not unique. I fought and fight the same battles, 

For demons still lurk and leap from the blankets and shadows. 

I am not unique. I am something else.

 I am all my ancestors before me. 

I am the living past.

 Adaptable and sustained for this day and age. 

I have more opportunity than a few decades prior. 

It’s the past before that my soul seeks and cries. 

Desires that make my heart slowly tired expire.

 I beat this drum that was put in my hand. To jump start it, my heart, again.

 I hear the voices revise, the pasts alive, in me is how they will survive. 

I am not unique, and I am not your weak; 

I am all my sisters and relations past.

 My mother, my kokum, all everyone, I have in me their blood to withstand.

Through me they continue until we find some resolution for restitution,

 Resurrection from reconciliation, 

For boundaries like before with no restriction, no rejections.

They live once again. 

And continue to cut, to slash, for wisdom to be given, they are on a mission.

Truth leads and sets direction and so I listen and honour and onward my deed, I proceed.

 I am a follower, I come from those already rest, sent to my job, supersede.

 It’s my turn now to cut, to bend, create, mitigate as I now navigate. 

For those who follow, I will be a leader.

 I won’t go far as them. But, I will go further than my family has ever reached.

 In those who come after me, I too will live through them, 

As followers to leaders, it’s passed down.

 For our people are never gone, we just pass on our power. 

We just are not as numbered. 

So, I am a hundred thousand of my people in one.

 I am not unique. 

I never was and I will never be, and so alone not in life or on this path.

 I have a hundred thousand commitments who carry me for the future generations, 

My past, our ancestors. 

Written by

Jaenelle Cardinal

Where I’m From 

by Clara Apt

My name is Clara 

I’m from a winding system of forest trails, 

Bears, coyotes, and foxes, oh my!

I’m from lush green vegetation and fragrant flowers,

Surrounded by the soothing hum of buzzing bees, 

I’m from an pet-packed abode,

With constant hollers of—

“Where’s the damn lint roller?” 

I’m from the mood swings of Mother Earth, 

Summer mirages and white winter glass, 

I’m from the chatter of nosy neighbors

Until I look out the window 

And they’re going, going, gone

I’m from a town spewing strong words of hatred and ignorance

Honestly, someone should just put a muzzle on it already. 

I’m from the mecca of the descendants of Italian immigrants,

Pray tell, do we really need eight pizza places here? 

I’m from the last dying breath of a marching band

The end of an era, they say it was

I’m from an age-old clash between progress and preservation,

They like to call the uprooting of culture 

An “economic investment.” 

The glistening stars of my home’s night sky

(they never reveal their faces in the city) 

Beckon me to return. 

Carrie Wright and Eskil Williams Oerberg have sent in some powerful, honest poems to keep fall rolling along.

I Am From  

by Carrie A. Wright 

I am from a kaleidoscope of childhood experiences,  

            From rural communities to ocean shores, 

I am from a tornado of teen trials,  

            Misguided and lost and alone. 

I am from a myriad of choices, good and bad, 

            Opening my eyes and enriching my soul.   

I am from a strong desire searching for change, 

            Overcoming fear to take a jump in another direction. 

I am from a world of isolation to conquering,  

            Determined to work my way out of my cocoon of protection to survive. 

I am from a change to positive pathways, 

            Guiding future generations to bloom into beautiful colors. 

I am from a world of butterflies now born from my cocoon, 

            With their eyes wide open, souls enriched, and wings spread wide.  

I am from this metamorphosis of change, 

            Still discovering, enhancing, and expanding my wings. 

— 

Carrie Wright

Future ESL Teacher

UNCW Alumni

I am from

by Eskil Williams Oerberg

I am from the apartment in the middle of the street 

With the never-ending noise always offbeat

From drawing on the wall

and throwing with legos

From practicing math 

and reading science

From crying in my bed, that was not just pretend

When I thought the world was coming to an end

From reading in the depth of night

and “watching the blood moon tonight”

I am from the family Christmas

With the never-ending food that wasn’t nutritious

From the finishing my plate 

With my mother’s carrot cake

From my dad’s lasagna

and the miracles shakes

From getting teased for looking like a girl

To being called a nerd

From flipping a bottle with many retakes

To  from playing soccer in breaks 

I am from playing chess with high stakes

and from being scared of snakes

September has brought in a remarkable group of new poets..Thank you to Reese, Daniel, Ayaan and Charles for such varied and imagistic poems..

Where I’m From

Charles Henry

By Ayaan Kohli

I am from a city with pollution and death and birds and trees

From a green garden and spicy food

I am from salmon poke bowl and sushi

I am from my mom’s food and ordering in

I am from mangoes and chillies 

I am from family games and video games

I am from theaters and apple T.V

I am from basketball and soccer

I am from hiking and swimming 

I am from chasing my cat and letting him go

I am from oak trees and leopards

I am from stitches and dislocation

I am from a happy and sad place 

I am from…

Daniel O”Shea

I am from the Xbox setup in my basement

from dog treats and tv clickers

I am from the big yellow house on the end of the road that always has the smell of fresh food

I am from the garden that is cherished by my mom

The treehouse that failed

whose long gone limbs I remember

as if they were my own.

I’m from the big Irish family and night owl partiers 

from my kind older sister and my wise older brother

I’m from using too much ketchup and burning the food

and from sitting by the warm campfire at night.

I’m from being a smart kid and a comedian

And working hard to play hard

I’m from the Yankee swap during Christmas

I’m from Natick Massachusetts and have Irish roots

potatoes and more potatoes

From my brother losing his wallet all of the time

My sister wanting to be a teacher

Our campsite in New Hampshire that will most likely be passed down

Where I’m From

By Reese Peterken

I am from the ocean’s relentless, unpredictable waves

And the towering peaks in the city of Asheville

From the narrow, carpeted stairs of Grandpa Jim’s basement

And the cracked concrete driveway of my own home

I am from the soft, fading glow of the street lamppost

And backyard birthday parties abundant with laughter 

From the bubblegum pink eye patch following strabismus surgery

And the world of fire and ice on a neighboring planet

I am from launching to space on the boundless trampoline

And from the bitterly cold soccer practices in winter’s darkness

From the traditional ski trip on the precipitous Wintergreen slopes

And the nostalgic lyrics of “Good Old Days”

I am from the late-night sleepovers with friends

And “saving” snapping turtles from the turbid creek

From arctic blue glow in the dark glasses

And water balloon fights on scorching summer days

I am from the annual family reunions in the Blue Ridge Mountains 

And the endless treasure hunts for sea glass 

From a father raised by the sweetness of Georgia peaches

And a mother nurtured from crayfish-ridden rivulets 

I am from fleeting failure and sorrow 

And from eternal improvement and bliss

From “Life is what you make of it”

And “You won’t know until you try”

I am from ancestors of European descent

And courageous travelers whom I will never know

From memorable photographs that linger through generations

A glimpse into the tale of past existence

Unequivocally surviving to remind me of where I am from