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I'm from St. Joe Hospital, West Virginia and California. I am from an Appalachian holler where on summer nights fireflies dance to the crickets ...
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Where I’m From Group poem written by students and families at Berea Community School, March 31, 2016
I am from Amway, from hogs and station wagons. I am from Lexington, filled with nice people, helpful, (it sounded pretty crowded). I am from tiger lilies, And Anglin Falls (it’s fun to climb). I’m from the very talkative and playing checkers at Cracker Barrel. From my Pappap and Aunt Pete and Gray. I’m from PJ’s on Christmas Eve and made-up words. From “Wash your hands,” and which Princess I am at bedtime I’m from black balling, and Children’s Church. I’m from St. Joe Hospital, West Virginia and California. From if I was born 1 day earlier I’d be in 1st^ grade, and the time my mom got stung by a bee, when she was 5 years old. I am from the warm and beautiful ocean and from wearing my Grandpa’s shoes
Sylvia DeLee Davis Richmond, Madison County
I Am From (a take on George Ella Lyon’s “Where I’m From”)
I am from an Appalachian holler where on summer nights fireflies dance to the crickets’ chirp while foxhounds yelp beneath ebony skies.
I am from clean-swept dirt yards galvanized bath tubs, snow cream, pawpaws, feedsack dresses, tobacco hanging in the barn.
I am from the Trail of Tears, the Irish potato famine— Kentucky!
I’m from the wrong side of town.
The town with black soot suspended in the air like fly specks on a foggy morning,
The town where wealth abounds but only on the other side.
I’m from the hard work of a good man who was awful bad to drink and the really
good woman who made up for him
I’m from the dirt farmers and moonshiners who stayed in the mountains to eke out a
living after the Indians left.
I’m from the rundown neighborhood where the hillbillys lived after the war.
I’m from 39th^ Street where life was shift work and nothing good was supposed to
happen.
I’m from Artho and Rebecca and Harry and Stella, from Ed and Arthie.
I’m from hearty stock that refused their destiny.
I’m just a girl – hillbilly through and through – proud, independent, smart, hard-
working, diligent and successful – from the wrong side of town.
Carolyn Castle
Born in Boyd County/Lives in Madison County
October 20, 2016
Where We’re From: a Collaboration Among Writers, Dancers, and Graphic Designers Berea College, Fall 2015
These videos were made as a collaboration among students in three Berea College classes in Fall 2015: Advanced Graphic Design, taught by Professor Daniel Feinberg; Choreography, taught by Professor Sarah Downs, and Advanced Creative Writing, taught by Professor Libby Jones. The goal of this collaborative assignment was to explore creativity across several arts, discovering ways the different arts might inform one another.
The creative writing students began the project by crafting individual versions of George Ella Lyon’s “Where I’m From.” A team of writers selected lines from each writer’s poem to create a collaborative poem, “Where We’re From.” This was used as the common source text for each group’s project. Groups were free to add, delete, and/or rearrange lines. All members of each group were invited to participate fully in designing and enacting their projects.
The seven groups each consisted of one to two writers, one to two graphic designers, and one choreographer. The groups were asked to create a visual work that incorporated elements of the common text, graphic art, and movement in some way. The prompt was left intentionally open-ended. Some groups produced videos as their final products, while others incorporated images and spoken poetry into live dance performances.
Video links:
Group One (Garrett Meadows, Michael Hopper, Naphina Hagans, Derrick Wesley): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gJkONr4z2_w
Group Two (Ryan Rutter, Atiba Bailey, Joshua Park, Jacy Stanford, Shalia Smith): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PvDsrpAFgYs
Group Three (Alexandra Chambers, Terrin Vann, Justin Wangler): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FboQWzgttW
Group Four (Kirsten Davis, Felicia Johnson, Hank Pinkerton, Sean Bond): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZWAPIAQfHvQ
Group Five (Autumn Lipford, Aaron Glass, Trent Maddox, Rebecca Anderson, Harvey Reid): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vFTv7fQOmLw
Group Six (Olivia Welch, David Battoe, Soncera Teboe, Jennifer Adams:) https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B2bKUMTz7cUQSHVSXzhSRjdfeFk/view
Group Seven (Rebecca Spelman, Ahmad Najwa, Noelle Hilpert): Performance: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WwTWbuwWHfw Just video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HbmvqxMQb3I
Where I’m From group poem, Richmond Area Arts Council, 1-21- Participants: Debbie Kidd, Bobetta Bullins, Tasha Jones, Ruthie Maslin
I am from the sandbox, from Tonka trucks and graders. I am from the small cul-de-sac, bright streetlight base for hide-n-seek, with fresh-cut grass. I am from playing-card-in-the-bike-wheel-spoke. I am from the snowball bush and pine trees. The snow balls were so plentiful and the pine trees were so tall and beautiful, like they would never end. From “birds of a feather stick together” and “a good name is your greatest asset.” I am from shape note singing, trying to reach the pedals while playing piano in church, hearing my grandfather’s bass voice, as he sang, and feeling safe as he laughed and encouraged me on my piano bench. I’m from the flat squares of Indiana cornfields, and Dutch immigrants, From fried Spam and Diet 7-Up. From my father hitchhiking along the Tamiami Trail, a young sailor, and my great-grandmother Wilhelmina’s crooked fingers and whispery voice.
Where I’m From Written by the residents of McCready Manor and St. Andrews Place, February 8, 2016 Contributors: Shirley Spangler, Sandra Ganter, Jean Snyder, Kelly Benton, Martha Wells, Evelyn Pearl Anderson, Ruby Evans, Shirley Gibson, Carol Mills, Bill McKenney, Hannah Gentry, and Eva Shearer
I am from gardens. I am from chickens, from eggs and meat. I am from peas and pies, squabbles and hugs. I am from the tobacco farm, from galvanized wash tubs. I am from the front porch swing, from lye soap and baking soda, Vicks’ salve and Milk of Magnesia. I am from tomato soup and homemade biscuits, from pinto beans and corn on the cob. I am from the still pool of water, from the ripples made by the pebble I dropped to watch, then fade again to silence and peace I am from the brick house – big and cold, but warm inside, concrete, cool, filled with family, some sad, some glad, conflicting, irritating, soft, secretive, abusive. I am from daffodils and roses, the flatland cornfields. I am from dirt under the house, making mud pies and cakes, decorated with tea red roses. I am from “Fudge” and Joe and Weddle, from “Do as I say, not as I do.” I am from the game players and passionate arguers, from “What have you done?” and “You’re my favorite!” I am from Brother George Jacobs, a penny tied in my hanky to put in the Sunday School collection plate. I am from big Sunday dinners and neighbors welcome.
Where I’m From Group poem written at the Madison County Public Library 2/19/ Participants: Athena Gentry, Alix Burke, Ricki Barker, Jen Caudill, Ruthie Maslin, Lacey Branham; Workshop leader: Savannah Sipple
I am from deviled ham, from glossy wood paneling and Pyrex mixing bowls. I am from the quiet riverside, (green, it smelled like dead fish). I am from snowball bushes and pine tree forts where we played with dangerous antique metal Tonka trucks.
I’m from proper grammar and new potato gravy, from Stanley and Wilhelmina. I’m from the quick-witted and the do-as-I-say, from “Children are to be seen and not heard,” and “This too shall pass!” I’m from “you go to hell for lying,” Popsicle stick crosses and Bible School cookies.
I’m from Lone Oak and Lion Fork, Polish kraut and friend Spam. From my great-grandfather’s ghost who visited the grandkids, and Dad’s wedding ring incident.
On top of the mantel was a milk can, full of deeds and birth certificates, tobacco seeds. I am nestled there, next to my great-uncle’s Purple Heart and Grandmother’s 1851 gold dollar.
Where I’m From Group Poem – Liberty Place 2-23- 50 participants
I am from cattails, from lilies and porch swings. I am from the Conservatory -- glass, with a waterfall in it. It had a cactus room where I would prick my finger on the spikes. I am from creek rock, slimy and black. I am from round noses and stubbornness, From Charles, Maria, and Cleta.
I am from strong women and crazy, psycho love. From “look before you leap” and “quit picking on your brother!” I’m from sneaking out of church to run to the candy shop, prayer cards and rosaries, dinners on the ground and baptisms in the river.
I’m from Oklahoma City’s tall buildings, from apple butter, homemade banana pudding, chocolate pie, chocolate gravy, and fried apple pies. I’m from moonshiners, my grandmother walking to school barefoot in the snow, and chicken fights.
In the bottom of the closet, in a box I made, were photos, insurance papers, and clips of baby hair. I am from the hollers.
A ratty farmhouse too close to the road, a garden nourished by mothers’ losses.
Where I’m From Group Poem written at Union Church in Berea, KY February 29, 2016 Contributors: Jenny Bromley, Carla Gilbert, Rachel Dorroh, and Dorie Hubbard; facilitated by Ruthie Maslin
I am from a cobbler’s bench, sewing machine, and washing machine. From Oxydol, Sunshine Bread, and Lean Cuisine. I am from Grandfather’s farm, Flat Rocks, And my mom’s company car (it seemed like we were always driving). It was burgundy With plush velour seats And a saggy ceiling we weren’t supposed to touch. But we did.
I am from lilac bushes, little bitty wild strawberries, and Georgia red clay.
I’m from singing in the car and putting up the Christmas tree on Christmas Eve and singing around the piano. I’m from Dora, Bartlett, and Helen, From Helen, Helen, Carl, and Carla. And Gertrude Swingley.
I’m from “Don’t make your grandmother cry!” (in response to my latest fashion trend) And “Get rid of your frown.” I’m from being baptized at age 14 with my mother and brother, From no recollection of my father being in church, And my mother conducting the stewardship campaign at 93.
Where I’m From Group Poem written at Union Church in Berea, KY February 29, 2016 Contributors: Judy Flavell, Grace McKenzie, Alison Szewczyk, Rita L. Barlow, Kim Kobersmith, and Sayer Kobersmith; facilitated by Brandon Thompson and Jeannette Matthews
I am from electric fences, from Blue Bell ice cream and Miracle Whip. I am from the tricksy-tree with tracks up the trunk – it felt rough and solid. I am from the rose of Sharon, the lilac in the side yard (the fragrance made my mother cry).
I am from the holidays at grandma’s long table where the men sat down first and were thrifty and hard-working. From Williams, Johns, and Georges galore. I am from the secrets & the bickering, From the water is sweet & there-and-back in one day.
I am from staying on good terms with the Virgin Mother and being Mary in the Christmas pageant.
I am from Jenny Ridge, PB&J & elderberry fritters. From Aunt Nell, who got the first divorce in the state of Ohio, and Great-Aunt Marie, who ate a whole donut in one bite.
I’m from negatives in old pipe tobacco cans.
I am from Madison County in the Appalachian foothills.
From a Teen Workshop at the Madison County Public Library in Berea, KY, on February 19, 2016 – led by David Payne
Where I’m From I’m from Danville I’m from a Kellogg’s cereal box I’m from a grandfather who really raised me I’m from a grandmother who really helped me
Where I’m From I’m from the thing called reality, And reality slaughters dreams and imagination. It causes a feeling that you can’t describe. But when I die I will finally Be released from it’s grip.
Where I’m From I am from biking around town From Dr. Pepper and donuts I am from a zany loving household of convenient surprises. I am from the lilly flower, the single stem, rooted at the floor of the pond the flower floating at the top of the pond on a pad, collecting air around sunlight. I am from commitment issues and memory loss From Susie and Ed and Will I am from daydreaming And indecision From “only get what you need, not what you want” and “if papa did it, I can do it” I’m from Las Cruces, New Mexico, Ramen noodles and rice From running to my neighbors house, And fighting with my brother for a top bunk From counting to 3 with my brother so we would press play at the same time and get on the same server. I am from files of pictures and picture frames on the bookshelf.
Where I’m From I am from internet And gatorade and nikes I am from the people all around with no space Small, cramped It was loud like sirens It was like apple blossoms The robbins Orange small birds, with brown backs I am from the cinnamon candy and brown hair. From Polly and David, and Marie Barret I’m from the loud and embarrassing and loving and caring. From work hard and things get better I’m from Jehovah, doing what’s thought of you I’m from St. Joseph Cornbread and Milk From the cactus that poked my sister with a thousand needles. The foot my uncle broke falling down the stairs. In my parents closet, a box full of photos with dates. I am from fun, creative culture, with loved ones surrounding.