Our Host: Stacey Joy
Stacey Joy is a National Board Certified Teacher, Google Certified Educator, and 2013 L.A. County Teacher of the Year. Stacey has taught elementary school for 40 years in Los Angeles Unified School District, and she is imagining life in retirement at the end of this school year. Stacey is a UCLA Writing Project fellow and a dedicated writer here with the phenomenal teacher-poets of Ethical ELA. Stacey has poems published in various anthologies: Out of Anonymity, Savant Poetry Anthologies, Teacher Poets Writing to Bridge the Distance, and Rhythm and Rhyme: Poems for Student Athletes, and more. Stacey enjoys traveling, spending time at the beach, and capturing pictures in nature while taking mindful walks.
Inspiration
On April 16, 1862, enslaved people in Washington, D.C. were freed through the District of Columbia Compensated Emancipation Act, a day now remembered as Emancipation Day (Washington, D.C.). Imagine what it might have felt like for people who had lived in bondage to step into freedom.
Some may have stayed. Others may have traveled to new cities or states. Many began new lives with uncertain paths but hopeful visions of liberty. What might those new “landscapes” of life have felt like?
Poets often write about moments of transformation when life begins again.
Process
Write a poem about beginning again. Your poem might explore a new landscape, a new identity, or a new way of seeing the world.
Imagine beginning again as or within one of the following:
- a landscape
- a classroom
- a marriage or relationship
- a mindset
- freedom itself
- a spirit
- an object
Write from that perspective. Consider what has changed, what remains, and what hope or uncertainty might look like.
You might choose to write an etheree like I did, or perhaps you prefer no form at all. What matters most is to write what your heart desires.
Stacey’s Poem
My prompt was inspired by a journaling exercise about “beginning again” from The Book of Alchemy by Suleika Jaouad.
Welcome Home to Begin Again
When
Ghana
Welcomes us
In November
We hope to behold
Every joy we’ve pictured
Rich cultural histories
Bustling streets of Accra await
Stories, rhythms, and spirits commune
Begin again with the Motherland’s love
©Stacey L. Joy, 3/1/26
Your Turn
Now, scroll to the comment section below to write your own poem. (This is a public space, so you may choose to use only your first name or initials depending on your privacy preferences.) Not ready? That’s okay. Read the poems already posted for more inspiration. Ponder your own throughout the day. Return later. And, if the prompt does not work for you, that is fine. All writing is welcome. Just write something. Oh, and a note about drafting: Since we are writing in short bursts, we all understand (and even welcome) the typos and partial poems that remind us we are human and that writing is always becoming. If you’d like to invite other teachers to write with us, tell them to subscribe. Also, please be sure to respond to at least three writers.
New
Books wait
Flyleaf stands
Tall and waiting
Protecting the realm
Encasing love stories
Intergalactic battles
Awaiting in a fantasy
Dreamed up by an author I don’t know
But still treasured as if by my own friend
Ashley, books always sound exciting. Love the final two lines that solidify your love for books.
Yes, books are to be treasured, and authors seem like friends.
Stacey, I feel your anticipation of your trip to Ghana. I went to Africa 10 years ago and have never forgotten the rich experience. I’d love to go again.
We live on a bayou and watch our wood duck house with a Ring doorbell camera. We already had one clutch hatch and are hoping for another one.
Anticipating
When
eastern
sunlight gleams
a beam across
greening cypress trees,
another wood duck hen
flies in, wiggles her belly
beginning a new clutch to watch
in hope for new life to lay waiting.
Cycle of birth always a miracle.
I love it that every time it is always a miracle. When you write about it, we get to see it, too.
Margaret, this is wonder to witness:
“another wood duck hen
flies in, wiggles her belly
beginning a new clutch to watch”
Your final line seals the message beautifully!
What a great beginning to look forward to! It’s a great prompt, to think of starting something new. I recently started The Book of Alchemy.
Just Begin
New journal
Clean pages
Wanting words
Contemplate
Lift your pen
Wait for words
Heart opens
Your hand moves
Words appear
Diane, you imagine a wonderful beginning in a tricube. I love how the brevity of this form allows you to say what you want with no fillers. The final stanza is a magic in action.
Friends,
I arrived late to commenting *yesterday* as y’all snoozed, so I hope you’re revisiting your poems. I’ll be back later w/ my poem. Meanwhile here’s my dinner view in Hue, Vietnam.
Love the night view, Glenda! I will keep the image through another long day on campus. Will be reading and writing in the evening. Get some rest.
What a powerful story from history, Stacey…it really made me think about what that moment must have been like. To have only known chains and bondage, and suddenly, they’re gone. How exhilarating and terrifying, all at the same time. I love the images and details in your poem as well…I can picture being there. What an exciting journey!
I decided to write a reverse etheree, about the desire for transformation that always hits me this time of year. As teachers, we are both blessed and cursed with a fresh start every school year.
Next Year…
It always hits in April–the desire
to reinvent, to do things better.
Looking toward next year, what will change?
What new lesson, what new text,
what new activity?
Will I ever stop?
If I do, then
I will know
it is
time.
I remember well that regretful feeling of April, especially on the cusp of testing. I retired last year and yesterday when I watched a school bus pass, I tensed then relaxed. You will know. Believe me, you will know.
Stacey, thank you for the great prompt. What an exciting trip to look forward to!
I wrote two etherees linked together, one ascending and one descending.
Loss and Love
I
lost the
love of my
life to cancer
shockingly, quickly.
He was my everything.
He is still my everything.
I long to hear his voice again,
to see his mischievous eyes and smile.
Hoping he appears in my dreams tonight.
Dreams and memories are all that I have
to get me through the long, lonely days.
The glimpses of the past must do
life lines when I’m feeling blue,
the laughs, the tears, the love.
These must sustain me.
For I believe
in my heart
love lives
on.
Rita–I am so very sorry for your loss. There are times when “beginning again” feels impossible. I hope you can heal, and carry that love with you.
Rita, I feel such a warmth toward you in this time of grief. I cannot imagine how tough it is. I love how you’ve captured your feelings in this double etheree that ends and begins again with a dream. Love lives on. I believe this, too, but know how hard absence of the person himself is. I hope writing and sharing are healing for you.
Love lives on…
Stacey, your prompt caused me to investigate the origins of the word freedom, which was so much more interesting than I’d imagined. I cannot imagine the feelings you will have in seeing Ghana, this place where “stories, rhythms, and spirits commune”. I love that you’ve envisioned the beginning again full of words, movement, and history. Yesterday, when the 7th graders and I were discussing our rights, we examined how our given right to an education caused it to become less important and how it can still be taken away with bans on what is taught. And well, I’ve now written more here than in the actual poem (maybe I’m haibunning it?).
Is the land of the free-
truly that
if we leave our fate
in the hands of the -dom?
Jennifer!!! Mic drop whether you “haibunned” or just told the truth! Fascinating use of freedom!
💜
Jennifer, your poem is so clever! It sums up the state of our country in four little lines. The answer is so scary.
You have the best discussions with your students. The fear of our fate is all too real these days. Do your students feel it too?
Oh, my Jennifer, you’ve packed so much just by breaking free-dom. Knowing some other words with -dom (as kingdom, for instance) magnifies your message, and then I somehow mentally extended -dom to doom. Bravo!
Hi, Stacey! Thank you for today’s invitation… the call to “begin again” can indeed apply to so many things. Your lovely etheree imparts a palpable sense of anticipation for the journey, the gathering, the celebration. It is vibrant – and its placement over that particular photo is spectacular. Your artistry is powerful.
Today I went with a pantoum. Didn’t start out with that form in mind. Wrote the first two lines and they basically said “Pantoum us.”
Alrighty then…
Drafts
Without judgment
they wait for me
so many stories
unfinished
They wait for me
characters I dreamed up
unfinished
frozen in time
Characters I dreamed up
and real people I knew
frozen in time
keep whispering: Start anew
And real people I knew
(so many stories)
keep whispering: Start anew
without judgment
ooooooh, how wonderful! I love it when a poem is bossy. I really hope you find time to get “back” to those stories and characters. What a great place of new to begin.
Thank you, Fran! You may not have intended to give me advice, but I needed this today:
I am ready!
👏🏽 👏🏽 👏🏽
Fran, I love that your poem is encouraging you to “start anew without judgment.” I often feel that my unfinished or in-progress writing often taunts me.
I’m glad you went with this bossy poem form. It’s so hard to turn off the critic when you are writing. Trust your gut. Trust the process. Your characters need your trust.
Good Morning Verse Lovers, Stacey, what a great prompt! I made a list of 25 ways to begin again and ended up adding a verse to an old nursery rhyme. Fun and quick and my morning writing needs to be today!
Old:
Mistress Mary
quite contrary
how does your garden grow?
with silverbells, and cockleshells
and pretty maids all in a row.
new:
See there, Mary?
don’t be wary
herbs can also grow!
tansy, dill and camomille
parsley, mint and oregano.
Wonderfully playful, Linda! I love it – beats, rhyme – perfection! Chef’s kiss!
Linda, oh my goodness!!! I want to try this with my students! So fun and relatable.
🪴
Such a cute turn on Mary, Mary!
Stacey, thank you for hosting us today and inspiring us to think about freedom and restraints – and the presence or absence of them. You’re the second person to recommend The Book of Alchemy, so I put it on an interlibrary loan and hope to be holding it without a wait very soon. I used your etheree and tried to follow in your footsteps today as you lead us. Thank you, friend, and I love your VerseLove picture logo!
Rocinante
when
freedom
(retirement)
comes in August
I hope to behold
Steinbeck’s Rocinante
packed and ready to explore
Open Roads of America
enjoying the journey as much as
the destination: learning how to breathe
Kim…every day someone is asking me when I plan to retire. My response: I am not there yet. But I long for it, and I celebrate yours glimmering on the (near) horizon. Love that you define “freedom” as “retirement” – preach – and you capture exactly what I long for most in that last line” learning how to breathe. I am in the stage of life where I frequently ask, with a number of things: “Is this worth it/Am I being a slave to this” and thinking about freedom. Yes. The leaves are stirring – fresh breaths of air are on the way. Here’s to the journey and those to come!
Wheeeeee! Happy for you. What a wonderful new beginning. I love this prelude of hope.
Kim, that is a magnificent plan! I envy you a tiny bit, but so happy for you. You deserve to explore all kinds of roads. Learning to breathe (I imagine) is freeing the mind and the body. Love the title of the poem and a nod to Steinbeck’s pickup!
Your need, longing for retirement is palpable here. Learning how to breathe again. I’m still trying to relax and not feel guilty about it. Retirement freedom takes time, even after you stop.
I didn’t quite follow directions (as usual)
Kevin
An old battered clarinet
from the dump heap
of discards sits broken
with possibilities
Mangled springs,
rotted pads, and
twisted keys;
yet, something there
still sings
A new turn
remakes a thing, anew,
but always, it requires
deft hands and
an understanding of song
“Sits broken/with possibilities” speaks volumes to me…a song that sings in my own head nearly every day. Thank you always for your musical and insightful perspective, Kevin.
broken with possibilities is perfect!
Kevin, “sits broken with possibilities” is such a great way to think about new beginnings. Your final stanza beautifully explains what’s needed to realize those possibilities.
Your imagery once again shows me without telling the life of a clarinet. I hope you (or some expert you know) can get it to sing again.