by Hannah Done
In my neighbourhood, after dark,
I don’t walk around outside much.
In my neighbourhood,
When I do go out,
I see people on the street –
Street people,
And sometimes I look and smile at them
And sometimes I don’t.
In my neighbourhood, at night,
Cozied up inside my warm house,
I hear noises in the street, and,
Even though I know I shouldn’t,
I feel afraid.
But I have always lived in this neighbourhood.
And I know that I should be a person someone sometimes looks at,
And sometimes doesn’t.
But sometimes I am everyone else
When the man in front of the store asks me for change
Feeling coins rustling in my pockets
And denying that I have them while I
Stifle their tell-tale sound with my gloved fingers.
Wishing I was a better myself instead,
And knowing that I am not.
Yet.
But sometimes in my neighbourhood
Some feeling comes up,
And makes me feel like I could eviscerate
The malignancy of privilege,
buried in my abdomen and in my brain,
Always there, always trying to grow until it reaches my heart.
And that feeling might be something good,
If I think about it hard enough,
I might even start to understand something
About looking at people, and smiling at them.
And speaking with them
And working with them.
And if I could, I would help that good feeling grow,
And maybe it would grow until it cracked my life right open
So that I never sometimes don’t look again
And maybe it could grow right out of me and into my neighbourhood,
And if it grows enough,
My neighbours might start cracking open, too.
And we can finally all just be our soft and naked selves,
And look at each other, and give our coins to each other,
And love each other.
In our neighbourhood.
~~
Bio: Hannah writes, “I am a student at the University of Winnipeg, in Manitoba, Canada, and I began tutoring in the University of Winnipeg’s Writing Centre just this fall, supervised by Dr. Jennifer Clary-Lemon. The University of Winnipeg is situated in the Downtown/West End of Winnipeg, where I also live, and I have written a poem to try to convey some of my context and motivation in my tutoring work and in my community. I tried to incorporate some of my own lived experiences and emotions to describe the work that we must do to extend ourselves beyond all of the internal and external barriers individuals and communities face when working towards inclusivity. As I wrote this poem, I thought long and hard about working within a writing centre, and how much the work that is done there depends on vulnerability, and so I decided to really put myself out there emotionally, in solidarity with all the writers who bravely expose themselves to our community every day. I must admit some trepidation in submitting this piece, but I am committed to open-hearted dialogues that are informed by emotional as well as intellectual content.