Read the excerpt from "Surrendering” by Ocean Vuong.One early-spring afternoon, when I was in fourth grade, we got an assignment in language-arts class: we had two weeks to write a poem in honor of National Poetry Month. Normally, my poor writing abilities would excuse me from such assignments, and I would instead spend the class mindlessly copying out passages from books I’d retrieved from a blue plastic bin at the back of the room. The task allowed me to camouflage myself; as long as I looked as though I were doing something smart, my shame and failure were hidden.
Read the excerpt from "Surrendering” by Ocean Vuong.Then he tipped my desk toward me. The desk had a cubby attached to its underside, and I watched as the contents spilled from the cubby’s mouth: rectangular pink erasers, crayons, yellow pencils, wrinkled work sheets where dotted letters were filled in, a lime Dum Dum lollipop. But no poem.
Read the excerpt. Spring is my favorite season; the blooming of life anew brings such joy that sometimes it also brings tears to my eyes. It is difficult to explain, but there is just something about the first bright green leaves—I like to call them "baby leaves”—that takes my breath away. It is just amazing that nature can take something that looks dull and dead in the winter and then transform it into something with such beauty and color in the spring.
Read the excerpt from "Surrendering” by Ocean Vuong.Through the headset, a robust male voice surged forth, emptying into my body. The man’s inflections made me think of waves on a sea. Between his sentences, a crowd—I imagined thousands—roared and applauded. I imagined their heads shifting in an endless flow. His voice must possess the power of a moon, I thought, something beyond my grasp, my little life.
Read the excerpt from "Surrendering” by Ocean Vuong.Little moments of ice hurled themselves against the window as the boys and girls, my peers, stared, their faces as unconvinced as blank sheets of paper.
What is syntax?
Read the excerpt from "Surrendering” by Ocean Vuong.After a few days, the poem appeared as gray graphite words. The paper a white flag. I had surrendered, had written.
Read the excerpt from "Surrendering” by Ocean Vuong.Between his sentences, a crowd—I imagined thousands—roared and applauded. I imagined their heads shifting in an endless flow. His voice must possess the power of a moon, I thought, something beyond my grasp, my little life.
Read the excerpt from "Why Do Black Women Fear the Fro?” by Cheryl Thompson.Then there are weaves, a process by which synthetic or real hair is sewn into one's natural hair to give the appearance of long, flowing, straight hair. While many women, irrespective of race, wear weaves (they're common in Hollywood), black women wear them to cover up, not merely enhance, their natural state.
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