Draft notes for Symbols and Stories: Rewriting our past to decolonize our future (working title)
(insert Bach quote "where are you from?")
Every place has a story. Every story is rooted in a place. And the roots of my story, at least part of them, are here, in the Palouse, sunk deep into the soil that rolls around making hills and valleys. I came because of the Physics program, the solid part of the dream to be a shuttle astronaut or at least work for NASA. Somewhere around Calculus III, I fried my brain. Then I toasted it in Linear Algebra and scattered the ashes sometime during Thermodynamics.
But the land here has a tenacity - brush grass clings windblown on the hills above the Breaks. Camas bloom hazy blue and thicken their roots beneath. Basalt columns tower then crumble with time and wind. And somehow even as I gained and lost and regained love, suffered crippling, undiagnosed depression, dropped out of college, worked as a secretary and slowly started seeing myself as a writer, my roots buried deeper and deeper until my toes were tangled with bindweed.
Sometimes you've got to burn a few fields before anything can grow properly.
Next: Names have stories...