A Report from John Fox, PPM
Our Mission
The Institute for Poetic Medicine offers tools and support to heal body, mind, and spirit through the creative and therapeutic process of hearing, speaking, and writing poetry.
Our Vision
The Institute for Poetic Medicine is dedicated to nurturing the human capacity to connect to Self, Other, Community, the Natural World, and the Divine through the healing, expressive art of poetry; what we describe as: Awakening soulfulness in the human voice.
“Terry Tempest Williams calls the heart 'the first home of democracy,'
the place where we can wrestle with democracy’s basic questions,
emerging with answers on which so much depends.”
Parker Palmer from Healing the Heart of Democracy
The Institute for Poetic Medicine (IPM), as a 501(c)3 nonprofit, cannot advocate for political candidates. Fair enough. That said, as an organization, IPM can be involved and respond to important issues of the day. We can be involved when it comes to this—inviting everyone to register to vote, and encouraging you to vote.
That is the practical bottom-line of this essay. Please use the link provided above!
This year I, John Fox, am profoundly concerned with whether we will sustain and keep our democracy alive and well. Whatever we call democracy, we are learning it is not a given, it is fragile and surely asks for care. In order for us, the people, to be represented as part of a democracy, we must participate. One such participation opportunity is available with the chance to have our voices heard through opting to vote in the General Election on November 5th.
We are faced this November with an existential choice—are we in this together? That we are, or can be, is the message I want to show in this essay: examples of our deeper selves meeting with a more public connection. This is what feeds goodwill and democracy.
I am going to add here: love and decency. For 13 years IPM has funded Merna Ann Hecht in her loving and decent outreach to traumatized immigrant and refugee youth. These teens, who sometimes arrive in America as children, frequently come from countries such as Afghanistan, Iraq, Somalia, and Burma, where there is oppression, war and economic disaster.
These young people arrive in America, often after years in refugee camps, profoundly hurt, but what also comes through in their poetic voices is inspiration, love of country, and resilience.
There are places that welcome refugees and immigrants. For instance, at Foster High School in Tukwila, WA, where Merna leads Poetry Partner Programs, there are teens from at least 17 countries. There are other places where immigrants and refugees are referred to as criminals, vermin, or as people poisoning the blood of our country. This despicable language and attitude must be rejected completely if we are to be in this together.
These teens, their families and relatives, are beautiful human beings who deserve respect. To work well as a true democracy, we must, as a country, vote for respect.
Motivated by awful realities like this, I decided to step directly into caring for democracy by finding a poetic medicine way to help others to use their voice. I did not want to do this on my own—the subject of democracy asks for others to be involved.
This led me to reach out to my colleague in Cleveland, Tony Vento, of Purpose Matters. Through Tony, I had the good fortune to meet Erika Brown of Neighborhood Connection.
I knew Tony could bring the teachings of Parker Palmer and his Circle of Trust work. I learned that Erika would be an excellent partner in lifting up that Courage work. It was with their guidance we attended to what Parker Palmer calls Five Habits of the Heart (see below).
Tony and Erika also brought in other creative, unusual, fun gifts that were their own.
I would bring to the circle the possibilities of poetry-and-healing.
Together we created a Friday evening and all-day Saturday (August 2 & 3) retreat titled Cultivating Goodwill and Democracy with the Healing Help of Poetry and Poem-Making.
Our intention was to ask:
What does a spirit of welcome, hospitality and expressions of goodwill have to do with democracy?
We affirmed a truth and asked:
Each of us has the power to cultivate goodwill and democracy, or their opposites. Which will you feed at this moment? What can you contribute by practicing your hope, humility, and courageous voice?
We committed ourselves to:
Make creativity more accessible to you—lift up our unique stories that are the fabric of the sacred quilt of America.
We all loved that image of America being a fabric of sacred quilt. I don’t have a picture of it, but Tony brought a bright gold/orange quilt that covered the altar in the middle of the room.
This retreat would happen at Neighborhood Connection where Erika hosted us. Erika did this with grace and welcome. Our participants were multi-racial, multi-generational, multi-spiritual/religious, coming with a wide range of life experience and economic realities, people working within service agencies, students and retired persons, a range of political affiliations and no affiliation, there were practicing poets and those new to poem-making.
The outcome of the retreat could be summarized in a few words—it was replete and overflowing with goodwill and democracy! The retreat was rich with poetic self-expression, which included deep listening and a quality of responding to one another rooted in respect, compassion, empathy, and surprise.
What a thing for community! Is this democracy at its best?
***
This said, with great thanks to Erika and Tony, I am going to focus the rest of this essay on what happened for three people through their experience and primarily with their poem-making.
These days, we are sensitive to and aware that goodwill and democracy, facts and honesty, community and individual rights are not abstract considerations. In a political season that signals that all power is found elsewhere and beyond us, it is important for those who care— as citizens, as human beings—to explore opportunities that reclaim significant power by the individual—and by that we mean you.
Poetry and poem-making, creativity—what gets called “poetic medicine”—this was our way to be sure that all voices are treasured and considered essential. I intended that we provide a safe place where participants heard this:
We invite you into a circle committed to give voice to goodwill and democracy,
We offer you the opportunity to tap into your personal agency and power
through creativity,
We encourage you to write, listen, and bear witness as an act of
community-building and a way to nourish goodwill and democracy.
In the process of considering what happened while writing this essay I got a strong sense that what we did was bring an inspired life-force to both goodwill and especially to democracy.
I saw and heard poetry and poem-making shared, the attention given to trust and courage, that infused being together with greater meaning. This opened a pathway of discovery. This caused a breakthrough that would not have happened otherwise. Goodwill and democracy transformed from concepts to felt-sense real-life experience.
I would like to share the thoughts of three people who participated, and through their words and poems we can consider if these goals were satisfied. I interviewed via Zoom Louise Prochaska, Darnell Epps, and Jerrod Amir Shakir.
I had basic questions, but in truth, these were free-wheeling conversations. The willingness of Louise, Darnell, and Jerrod to talk was great fun—I am grateful to them for helping me. I want to communicate their vitality but without hearing their voices that will be a challenge—yet I hope you catch the unique current.
Interview with Louise Prochaska
Louise Prochaska is a recently retired professor of theology and Women’s Studies at Notre Dame College in Cleveland, OH. She earned a master’s degree in English from Indiana University and a doctoral degree in moral theology from the University of Notre Dame, South Bend, IN. Her professional focus has been teaching theology, New Testament, world religions, and social issues at the undergraduate level. She has written a book that is the culmination of more than 35 years of teaching both in high school and college. On a personal level, Louise finds joy in creating art pieces using a variety of media, cooking for family and friends, savoring the spiritual and cultural riches in foreign lands, volunteering, and finally, meditating in her garden.
“When I liberate myself, I liberate others. If you don’t speak out ain’t nobody going to speak out for you.”
Fannie Lou Hamer
Note from John Fox: I began, perhaps somewhat prosaically, by asking Louise what her definition of democracy is. I say prosaic but actually this question and her response was helpful, helpful as the solid foundation is for a good home:
Louise Prochaska: Any political process must be based on respect. Respect for members, for your adversaries, respect for them as persons, as thinking individuals who desire the greater good—not just good for themselves—they desire the institutions to work for the greater good of everyone. That is what democracy is. Democracy puts that responsibility into the hands of the people and their elected officials.
JF: Rather than having a fixed notion does a healthy democracy include being willing to learn?
LP: Everybody in that room could be an aspect of myself and I was surprised by that. Wow! All of these energies are within me, and I need to shut my brain off and sit with those other parts of myself.
JF: Is this an aspect of democracy? Are you doing breakthrough work—by realizing that these other people are aspects of yourself? Is this a spiritual dimension of democracy that poetry opens a door to?
LP: Ah! Yes! When we talk about democracy—one gift, a democratic action, is to for me say to you, “John I see this in you. I see something you do not see.”
Most of us need another person to help us reach deeper, to discover the deeper truth. Listening to the other members of our retreat circle evoked so much—including anger and assertiveness—we expressed our lives, without having to list accomplishments.
Through their unique power and giftedness, each person can make the world better. This is what the democratic process should be: allowing and inviting persons to step more fully into the public sphere—no matter what their economic, physical, intellectual, social, and cultural situation is.”
JF: What drew you to attend Cultivating Goodwill and Democracy?
LP: I knew I came initially because of you, John. One blessing, benefit, richness that I did not expect—I was enriched by the experience and the activism of the other members. I didn’t realize there was an African-American communication network, and I would like to get in contact with that network. That was an eye-opener for me.
I learned there is a lot of action and communication going on amongst people who want to improve our city. In my position as a leader at The Community of Saint Peter, I want to be more connected with that network.”
JF Note: Louise became more vulnerable in why the retreat touched her:
LP: On a personal level, as I expressed in my poem My Brainy Self, I am very good at making things happen, making decisions, getting people to volunteer, accomplishing things—but I need to love my inner self more.
Your prompts and the quiet time gave me the invitation to appreciate my inner self that I do not give time to come to the surface.
By listening to other people, who responded to me with such love, the attention other participants gave to me, helped me give attention to my deeper self. I wrote this poem:
Dear Brainy Self,
We have been like conjoined twins, sharing one body.
Whenever I am addressed or have a goal,
You wake up and finish the task with precision.
But I get silenced, I hide
While you get the praise and accept the next job!
Can we agree to pause next time
And let our shared feeling-self radiate too?
You are so quick and eager to win, but
PLEASE, PAUSE, and invite us to FEEL
With soft edges and warm love.
When you asked my neighbor, the woman sitting next to me, to turn and speak my poem to me, I was very moved. It brought me to tears. A person across the room watching this told me that my face changed as I listened. That lady who spoke my poem that my inner self listened to, spoken to my brainy self, and I heard it as she said the poem, and I felt loved. I felt connected in those moments to that deeper self.
It was your insight or instinct to have her read my poem to me. This experience worked its magic.”
JF Note: I said our conversations were free-wheeling. Louise spoke with passion about how the retreat helped her discover a clearer distinction between her talent as a teacher, which she expressed for five decades, and her gift that is more and more coming to the fore—to be someone called to provide rescue—to provide safety and refuge to all kinds of creatures in need of rescue. The sense of delight on Louise’s face as she said this was…delightful.
Our conversation began to close on a note of an important reflection on democracy in her 80th year. What she said brought us full circle in this interview:
LP: Our democracy needs to honor elders. Our culture crowns 20 somethings. They are not yet ready to be crowned! Older cultures, indigenous cultures…the people with the greatest respect are the elders who have lived through life. Elders who know, who give value, who tell the stories of the tribe and pass those stories on.
JF: And, finally, returning to her attention to the deep self and its relationship to democracy:
LP: That deeper self is the seedbed of our gifts. Your gift is your whole, deepest self, but we are often afraid to allow that deeper self to be heard and seen. In a cultivated spirit of goodwill and democracy, that is what we need.
Interview with Darnell Epps
Darnell Epps is a proud native of Baltimore, MD. He serves as the director of Fair Play (Diversity, Equity, Inclusion, and Justice) at Hawken School. In this role, he works collaboratively with faculty and administrators, leading programming to create more equitable and inclusive spaces for all members of the school community to build culture and cultivate belonging. He is a skilled facilitator, presenter, and storyteller. Darnell earned a B.S. in Music Education from Lebanon Valley College (PA) and a M.A. in Music from Washington State University. He is a proud volunteer in the Media Ministry at South Euclid United Church of Christ, enjoys spending time with his family that includes Robert (marriage partner), Louie (pug dog), and Titon (cat), and walking in Forest Hill Park.
"We must make the choices that enable us to fulfill the deepest capacities of our real selves."
Thomas Merton
John Fox: Darnell, could you share why you decided to attend the retreat?
Darnell Epps: I would say this past spring I was arriving at what I would call burn-out. I heard it said that it is important to connect in the community and to reach out, but I was how the hell am I supposed to do that when I am so busy?
There were some things that got restructured, and even though my team was smaller at work, I received coaching and support to work more strategically—to pare back so that I could have more impact with fewer resources. That afforded some space mentally going into the summer; but I knew in my body—I am exhausted. I knew I had to reach out to some folks.
As a young professional I thought I needed to have the answer. I needed to show up and know what to say, how to navigate. My God, what a humbling year. I made mistakes. It was humbling from a learning and professional standpoint. It was also liberating because I learned I had to ask for help. I had to learn that there is no shame in asking for help.
JF: Are you saying that the retreat was helpful?
DE: It is as if I came with the soil—ready to receive. I started reaching out and one thing led to another. Here comes this invitation: Do you need to recharge? Do you need to invest in yourself? As leaders in community-building, we can find ourselves empty. That was the first Neighborhood Connection workshop. Healing! Connection!
I used one of the poems in my senior leadership retreat. As one who has a complex relationship with formal schooling—words, literacy, and poems in particular, I always thought poems were not accessible to me. I didn’t understand them. What am I supposed to make of this?
Then I had this dynamic first experience—omigod—this is what I needed.
You mentioned the retreat was multi-generational, multi-racial and then the socio-economic diversity—that was key. I grew up working class. My grandparents came from the south in the Second Great Migration. My grandmother worked at St. Joseph’s Hospital. I am thinking as a child she is a nurse, a doctor…then learned she was a custodian. There is no shame there. I didn’t know. They worked and worked and saved and saved, and their generation put my parents in a different place.
I went to what is considered a “failing school.” It was under-resourced. There were challenges there. I learned how to do it, how to get through—but I struggled with reading and comprehension. I probably would have been diagnosed with learning differences if they had the resources for testing.
Long story short, I go to the first evening of the workshop, and I want to go again to the second day. It was so cool hearing the different variations. As one who has moved from lower class to middle class, that was helpful to me to have that complexity because of often being the only Black person in predominantly white spaces, it was good to be in a majority person-of-color setting so I could think of other aspects of my identity. I could think about privileges that I have which I don’t think about. For instance: unhoused experience was uplifted. I have always had some type of home my grandparents, my parents…so that was a lens I had not considered.
JF: How does this connect with the Goodwill and Democracy workshop?
DE: I knew I wanted to come back even though these poems I am not sure about. You said something that created this invitation. You talked about playing with words. You scaffolded this in a way that gave me courage to try. There were other people speaking from their experience. You raised questions in such thoughtful ways.
I needed a safe space to say, “John, I don’t know.” The freedom to say, “I don’t know” made me more curious. These lines from the song the Heart of the Matter as sung by India Arie ring true now to me:
The more I know
the less I understand
The things I thought I figured out
I had to learn again
This space of learning. To seeing again. To going deeper. To wondering. My heart, my body, is craving that so I wanted to be intentional about being in community. What a more beautiful way than poetry?!
JF Note: Here is the poem where Darnell reflects upon and allows for not knowing:
I appreciate how you tried to keep me safe
The harvest I now enjoy from the seeds you sowed last season
I understand more fully how you showed me the straight and
narrow path
The path hard to find
Yet, oh how I long to dance, dance in the freedom of the unknown
To stray, wonder, walk down the wayward path
I consider what possibilities await in the wild spaces, the expanses
I won’t forget you as you are a part of me
Come visit, but don’t stay too long
It’s time to let go—to let you
Although, I don’t know
I don’t know how
Darnell Epps
It was based on the Third Habit of the Heart: The Capacity to Hold Tension Creatively:
Our lives are filled with contradictions—from the
gap between our aspirations and our behavior to
observations and insights we cannot abide
because they run counter to our convictions. If
we fail to hold them creatively, these
contradictions will shut us down and take us out
of the action. But when we allow their tensions
to expand our hearts, they can open us to new
understandings of ourselves and our world. The
genius of the human heart lies in its capacity to
use these tensions to generate insight, energy,
and new life.
and the poem To Fear by Nga Reh, a 15-year-old refugee from Thailand:
To Fear
You that is in my heart
When the time is wrong,
like lightening you appear.
What are you? Where are you?
Where have you come from?
Do you have a family?
You seem new-born, like a freshly hatched egg,
I should take you in, I should teach
you right from wrong,
you need protection from the unknown
of the world, from struggling to keep your emotions
in balance, not sad about leaving a place you love,
not so happy that you go overboard,
the unknown should be known to you,
only when the words right
from wrong are spoken
I should raise you as my own.
Nga Reh
This poem was published in the anthology Our Table of Memories: Food & Poetry of Spirit, Homeland & Tradition.
Interview with Jerrod Amir Shakir
Jerrod Amir Shakir is a dedicated community organizer and activist based in Cleveland, OH. He currently works with Bike Cleveland as a Community Organizer, focusing on developing and supporting biking and walking infrastructure improvements in the city. Shakir collaborates with local community groups, businesses, and elected officials to promote safer and more inclusive urban environments. Before joining Bike Cleveland, Shakir served as a Grassroots Organizer and Certified Health Insurance Navigator with UHCAN Ohio, where he advocated for healthcare accessibility and equity. He has also been involved with the Freedom BLOC as a digital organizer and social media marketer and has worked as a digital archivist for Cleveland Votes. Shakir is an advocate for reparatory justice and mental health. He expresses his artistic side through poetry and hip-hop music, blending passions for storytelling and community upliftment.
“Where you see wrong or inequality or injustice, speak out, because this is your country. This is your democracy. Make it. Protect it. Pass it on.”
Thurgood Marshall, Supreme Court Justice
from 1978 University of Virginia commencement speech
John Fox: Could you talk about what your experience of the retreat was?
Jerrod Amir Shakir: What I took away from it in terms of cultivating goodwill and good faith in democracy, it was people coming together, community coming together in good faith. The democracy is that we all had equal say and were on equal footing in what we were doing together. If you wanted to participate in the exercises, you could share, and if you did not want to, you did not have to. That is important. People had the right to use their voice how they saw fit.
That is what democracy is built on.
The healing element with the poetry—that was just as important to me—using poetry as a means of release and mental health advocacy. It is a very important part to have that self-expression and be able to release anything that you may be dealing with, something that is in your heart, on your mind, that is weighing on you. Basically, that is what I was able to do that weekend.
The poem I wrote I have since performed it a couple of times and people seemed to enjoy it. I liked performing it. It feels freeing to me to have that level of self-expression. People understanding. Me able to release what I was dealing with.
People may not realize that in the poem I was responding to numerous things that people were saying to me—but from the outside looking in—it just looks like I am going off on somebody. I am definitely going off on somebody—but it wasn’t anything that wasn’t unprovoked. That is what my piece did. It was interesting to perform it. There are people in the retreat I have been in community with many times—Mr. Greg Groves, Erika Brown and Tony Vento—but they may not have seen that side of me.
Ms. Gillian Johns, who attended the retreat, we are both part of the Cleveland Association of Black Storytellers—and she may have seen how I can be with my art and how passionate I am. I am aware that it may be too much for some people. That is another thing I am dealing with—how I express myself. Is this too much? Yet, I find it is better I do express myself honestly, and that people will accept that and see me for me.
The retreat was a freeing experience. I love a good writing prompt. There is a little bit of…”Hmmm! I wonder who is going to write what at the end?” I think I should have one of the best because I trust my artistic abilities at this point. It was great to test myself.
JF: Please say that again—to test yourself?
JAS: Yes, test myself, and I can also attack myself. Some of us are our own worst critics at times. This was freeing. I felt a release and got it out of me.
JF: Could you say something more about the word release? You are not only getting it out, but you are getting it clarified.
JAS: Yes, that is a great point. When I speak about release, we talk about it abstractly and metaphorically, but these things can literally weigh on our hearts and our minds.
Literally these things were weighing on my heart and mind. Especially and unfortunately because of the influence of alcohol that I had that weekend. Friday night I went out to the local watering hole and stayed too late. That was probably why I was a little late Saturday morning if I am being honest and transparent.
Because alcohol is a depressant, and the things I was dealing with in that state that my piece speaks to as well. I say:
You didn't hear the fork tongued whispers that spoke to me..like the whiskey...
My piece embodies that. It is about things that were going on at that watering hole. That was weighing on me. Writing the poem is like a body-builder lifting a weight—you finally get it off of you—you pull it off your chest. You finish with your set. Everyone who witnesses you are your spotters.
JF: Were we a spotter to your self-honesty?
JAS: That is exactly what it was. I say vulnerability is one of my superpowers. It is a superpower because it allows other people to be vulnerable as well. To see someone like me who you may not think is vulnerable, who has that sort of introspection. I get to display that then people say, “Oh wow! This is a safe space. If he can be vulnerable, I should be able to.”
It is easy to do something. But how often do we go back to re-evaluate and say was that the right thing to do? Even me being honest about saying, “Hey, I was late on Saturday morning because I was hung-over!”
Luckily this has been a dry month for me. I have not been using or abusing alcohol. I have so much going on that I want to accomplish, and I want to accomplish it for me.
I am not sure that my talents and abilities are God-given. I have nurtured this writing gift. I have nurtured this gift since I was a kid. I started when I was twelve or thirteen, and at thirty-seven should be confident to go and do this.
JF: Jerrod, every moment is new! Everything you write is new!
JF Note: This is the poem that Jerrod wrote and spoke into our circle. "And what if my words…" was the prompt:
"So..And, What If?..."
And what if..my words...
were the only ones you heard?
not listening close enough to hear they were..
a reply, rebuttal, resistance...
'cause my voice carries easily..
the projecting of an M.C.
Ask why I'm so firey, this is big Aries energy!
Grew up bullied, I was the only one defending me.
You didn't hear the fork-tongued whispers that spoke to me..like the whiskey...
or the devil on my left shoulder daring you to knock the stick off! So now I have a chip there..
but if you could only hear wtf they said to me first..
say it's childish like "they started it!" or "me first!"
but it was just my reply, rebuttal, resistance...
not listening..
but my words.. were the only ones you heard.
Jerrod Amir Shakir
“All the great questions must be raised by great voices, and the greatest voice is the voice of the people—speaking out—in prose, or painting, or poetry, or music; speaking out—in homes and halls, streets and farms, courts and cafes. Let that voice speak and the stillness you hear will be the gratitude of mankind.”
Robert F. Kennedy
(1925–1968)
I hope you will return to this essay and read out loud the poems by Louise, Darnell, and Jerrod. These are people you have gotten to know. Look for places where you connect with them and their stories. Consider ways their poems and lives are different from yours—and yet, are also resonant in your heart.
I found their expressions of authenticity, vulnerability, strength, and uniqueness, beautiful. During the retreat they each discovered something within themselves that was new.
My hope and belief is that poetry and poem-making (along with the trust and courage work done by Tony and Erika) demonstrates and expresses a life-force that infuses democracy. By reading this essay you are now part of our retreat, you are receiving the goodwill of their creativity. You are further cultivating goodwill in this moment...you might even share these poems with a someone nearby.
This your expression of goodwill and democracy.
I am feeling uplifted right now. I am not thinking of the negativity or the fraught and dangerous time we are in. I am hopeful that each of us will vote for a healthy way of responding to life.
Towards the end of the Cultivating Goodwill and Democracy retreat we focused on the Fifth Habit of the Heart, A Capacity to Create Community:
Without a community, it is nearly impossible to achieve voice: it takes a village to raise a Rosa Parks. Without a community, it is nearly impossible to exercise the “power of one” in a manner that multiplies.
The steady companionship of two or three kindred spirits can help us find the courage we need to speak and act as citizens.
For this habit I chose a poem by Maya Angelou titled A Brave and Startling Truth. I spoke the last three stanzas:
We, this people, on this small and drifting planet
Whose hands can strike with such abandon
That in a twinkling, life is sapped from the living
Yet those same hands can touch with such healing, irresistible tenderness
That the haughty neck is happy to bow
And the proud back is glad to bend
Out of such chaos, of such contradiction
We learn that we are neither devils nor divines
When we come to it
We, this people, on this wayward, floating body
Created on this earth, of this earth
Have the power to fashion for this earth
A climate where every man and every woman
Can live freely without sanctimonious piety
Without crippling fear
When we come to it
We must confess that we are the possible
We are the miraculous, the true wonder of this world
That is when, and only when
We come to it.
The writing prompt was “When we come to it…”
Louise Prochaska wrote and spoke this poem:
When we come to it,
We need to let go of what is mine, only mine
And bring all that is mine, including myself,
To the common circle, give everybody
A share of living space, and food, and safety.
And we had better come to it soon!
These are beautiful things to envision, invite and affirm now in 2024 and as we look toward our future.
I said that the bottom-line of this essay is to encourage you to register to vote and to make a plan to vote. If you are already registered to vote you may check your registration status.
Speak up as part of this democracy and let your voice be heard by voting!
John Fox, PPM, is the founder and CEO of The Institute for Poetic Medicine.
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