Hearing Our Names (8th)

Today in Ms. Krasic’s class, we read Aimee Nezhukumatathil’s poem “On Listening to My Teacher Take Attendance.” The students had incredible insights on the imagery she used and what she was able to express through simple objects like a pencil sharpener. We talked about people in our lives who say our names in ways that we love or ways that make us uncomfortable. A lot of us have people in our lives who say our names with a particular accent or in a particular language and we shared how special that can make us feel.

Ms. Krasic 8th Grade

Selina and others Salima

Selina. Selima. Samlia.
None are my name
but I’ve found that
they’ve become
a part of me

like white out
over words
upon a blank
piece of paper

As another soldier
falls against this name
I watch
in front of me
as more fumble
after him.

My Favorite Voice Sakina

“Sakina”
she calls
I recognize that voice
I can always tell it apart from others
That specific calm voice that sounds
like us cuddling and watching movies

The specific voice which sounds like
us crying, and then busting out into
laughter together right after

The voice that brings me comfort smelling
like the fresh chocolate cake we baked
together

The voice that is always stuck
by my side forever

Her voice.

My Mother Anggun

When she says my name,
my heart blossoms into flowers.
She gives me this name
so I can feel loved.

And when she holds me
I smell the warm aroma
of food on her soft
and warm blouse

I see the image of me
getting fed soup by her.
I miss those times as I
can still hear. I can still hear

the laughter of her
and the soft wave of
her giggle that welcomes
itself to my ears.

And I can’t lie
that this is my mother
who is very dear to me
and I love her forever.