The old white male philosophy professor whose office is down the hall from mine often stops by to tell me riddles. They are delightfully corny.
Today's include: "Why was the dresser embarrassed? It dropped its drawers."
But today we also talked about the intense disclosures of violence and trauma in my students' essays. We talked of resurfacing trauma and the catharsis of being witnessed and heard. We talked of creating spaces to hold these stories. We talked about how students have different needs when revealing and confronting and exposing these traumas. He, maybe, in his 70's, told me he has a lot to learn from me.
I am so thankful to be at CalState and to be apart of these cross-disciplinary conversations.
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I like poems.