Happy New Year from all of us at Maine Humanities
These days, all MHC programming is happening online. It’s been challenging but rewarding, connecting people from across the state as never before, bringing a platform of equality to our participants: No matter who you are or where you are, you’re welcome to join us.
We’re looking forward to a year of creating meaningful connections, fostering individual agency, and inspiring civic engagement through people statewide.
Who Am I?
By Kristina Torres
Who am I?
A lonely wanderer in a dry desert in search of water, seeking shade and only burning in the hot sun which seems to never go out, waiting for the coolness of the moon that justifies the night.
Who am I? A blossoming flower that cannot bloom because the soil is so coarse, the rain doesn’t come, buried under concrete, a rose unfound. Can I grow through the concrete?
Who am I? A soldier off to fight a never-ending war, fighting in a world full of hate that is longing for love, hope, maybe some faith. They say god gives his hardest battles to his strongest soldiers.
Who am I? Am I god weeping for the people of my creation, weeping for their sins, weeping for their joy, weeping for all the destruction humanity has caused, weeping for the great achievements we have overcome? Does god only weep?
Who am I? A mother-less child longing for her touch, her words, her smell, her comfort.
The assurity that only a mother can give. Am I the child-less mother, barren, wanting to create life, carry life, give life?
Who am I? The father who wants to raise a boy to become a man, not just any man but a righteous man, a man who knows his purpose in life. Or am I the boy who wants to be a
hero and rescue the princess, who longs for the father who has long so gone, the boy with
no manly guidance trying to find his way in an unjust society deemed for the rich and white?
Who am I? A broken heart waiting to be mended, one that’s been broken so many times it has no beats left, a beating heart that skips a beat or plays a rhythm-less song only I can hear, a bleeding heart that cannot pump blood or survive inside of a being. How can I live?Who am I?
A baby that cries when it’s hungry but there is no one there to feed it, laughs when it sees angels dancing above its head with the eyes of innocence that still lies within it, a baby trying to learn to crawl, then walk so that it can conquer the world.
Who am I?Am I the injustice that faces society today? The wrong that will never seem right or the right that always seems to be wrong. Can there be any justice? Can justice correct our wrong or wrong our rights?
Who am I? A question without an answer, an answer without a question. There are so many things that I can be from living to an entity, from serene to disturbance, unfound or found, lost or not lost. I am someone in the mist of trying to figure out who I am. Someone who’s cried and mourned, lived and laughed, seen and saw, been and still going.
Yet there is still that question.
Who am I?
Who am I?
“I wrote this piece at a time of so much pain. Pain that was going on in my life, pain going on in the world, just pain in general. Many times we are conflicted with ourselves as to who we are. We don’t know who or what we are made to become. Society has painted this picture as to who we are supposed to be and that is a false picture. I feel that we are who we are and we become who we want to become if we strive to achieve the things that we want to achieve. Only we can change who we are.” – Kristina Torres