To be updated soon...| From a student: Why Pesha should be
Seattle's Populist
Poet
Seattle has the good fortune to be home to Pesha Joyce Gertler, a wonderful poet and an incredibly gifted teacher. Her life’s work has been encouraging students, young, middle-aged, and truly old, to find their own voice. In classrooms, living rooms, libraries, and parks she has guided hundreds, perhaps thousands of people in finding the healing and inspiring properties of poetry. In so doing she has created a true community, seeded with as little as three hours a week, but destined to exist forever. Pesha Joyce Gertler should be Seattle’s populist poet not only because of the anti-elitist values expressed in her poetry, but also because of this commitment to generating poetry in the community. She is a fierce advocate of creative expression with an understanding of how society’s prejudices and discrimination can silence our truthtelling. Pesha has a particular commitment to helping women express themselves in poetry. She teaches popular courses for women in the North Seattle Community College extension program, at the U.W. Women’s Center, and at Cancer Lifeline. Many Seattleites are now writing and sharing their poetry because of Pesha’s support and influence; many of them didn’t even realize they had a writer inside of them until working with Pesha. Ten years ago I walked into a continuing education class, Self-Discovery for Women through Creative Writing. It was held in a middle school, three hours per week. Within an hour I felt closer to the other students than I had become to anyone in my first three years in Seattle. It felt like I had found my home, and now ten years later, at the market, on the bus, there will be someone else from one of Pesha’s classes. She has created a community. Each week we might just write for 45 minutes, but Pesha always writes too and every poem written in our midst has been a wonder in itself. Peggy Sturdivant, Seattle
There is solace in this room. I am lost and can rest here. I am angry and can incubate here. I am full of love and can dispense it here. I am unsteady and confused and can be comforted here. I am in pain and can forget it here–it becomes as the passing air currents, the candle light on the altar, the inside of me. It becomes what my body is, the pain that settles into each atom; held by acute tension, fed by fear and habit. Here, in this room, it grows and will speak; will become honored in its own right because it calls me to myself, it asks for care and honoring, it asks for respect and love. Just for once. Just now. Thank you, Pesha rucy
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The
silence of women’s voices through the centuries led me to
create a
stimulating
yet safe space where women’s voices can be respected and
nurtured. My
commitment
is to maintain this space so that women writers always have a circle, a
home, a temple to which they can return. It is my belief that through
hearing
the voices of all of humanity, instead of only half, the balance that
is
gained will heal the entire human family.
Pesha Joyce Gertler
In
this long emptiness
to Malke Lee. a Yiddish poet, whose pious father
burned all her work because he believed it was
against God's will for a girl to write.
--from the dedication in the book,
The
Hole in The
Sheet,
Evelyn Kaye.
What
did you feel Malke
when your lifework, your poems blackened
in the flames,
what did you feel as you stood in the
evening air,
smoke stinging your eyes while you
witnessed your
burning
words
hamen tash en
Vash
ti
Ju dith
T H I NK
An end
to
such nonsense,
such
perversity,
as a woman who thinks, your Papa,
a man of the Book, stormed
while what could have been your
book burned and
burned.
Did
the yods and alephs intertwine
like braided challah, like amulets of fire?
Did you weep or faint or scream and kick
or stand frozen while your lifework died?
Did
you then become
a dutiful wife, mother,
write no more?
Or did you find more successful ways to
hide
so that no one could find your words
including us, your daughters, Malke, who
come
decades later, and wander, hungry, bereft
in this long emptiness filled with rubble
and ash.
© Pesha
Joyce Gertler
Published in Jewish
Women's Literary Annual
To contact Pesha
send email to namastepeace-at-juno-dot-com
(replace "-at-" with "@" and "-dot-" with
".")