“Caminante no hay puentes…”

Since this is my first “end-of-year” blog post, I figured there are probably few or no expectations, and I can do what I want.

So, to use a phrase my daughter is extremely fond of these days, “See what I’m not gonna do is…”

–rehash gruesome details about what it’s like surviving [because we have to call it that, don’t we] today’s socio-political landscape.

–go down a list of all the books I read this year and tell you why I liked each one [we have Goodreads for that].

–reveal divine secrets to person/teacher-hood that will elevate all readers to a higher humanity [sorry if that disappoints].

I am going to let 2017 rest by remembering it (and its seasons) with poetry.


It’s funny how much

a sunset



a sunrise.

I hate saying, “When you died,”

because for me

that’s not what happened.


When I say your name.

When I think of you,

I always, always remember

(however much it hurts)









I was everything





no one.

What a relief it is to feel one’s individuality



I felt connected to all of humanity–more so then, than I have since–

even in this very moment, this hour,




I fell.

But, it was a controlled fall.

The kind you take when the sidewalk that was wet, turns icy.

You know what’s ’bout to happen, don’t you?

(I knew)

But, that doesn’t keep you from

protecting all parts,


Not only, but especially

the head

and paradoxically (because it’s in a cage, what can hurt it?)

the heart.


Things fall apart,

and then slowly, carefully, methodically

we pull them back together.

We have fallen apart so many times,

then come together to gather the scattered pieces.

We have re-written the story so many times,

then come together to re-tell the tale.

We are about the business of re-building it all,



complete, and utter destruction.

We know what it is to build bridges as we walk them.

and you walk over us as though we won’t move

              beneath your feet…

Inspiration for 2018…

“Caminante, no hay puentes, se hace puentes al andar.”
(Voyager, there are no bridges, one builds them as one walks.)

Gloria E. Anzaldúa

If I can’t dance, it’s not my revolution!
If I can’t dance, I don’t want your revolution!
If I can’t dance, I don’t want to be part of your revolution.
A revolution without dancing is not a revolution worth having.
If there won’t be dancing at the revolution, I’m not coming.

(all attributed to Emma Goldman)

“My silences had not protected me.  Your silences will not protect you…We have been socialized to respect fear more than our own need for language.”

Audre Lorde

“The more radical a person is, the more fully he or she enters into reality so that, knowing it better, he or she can transform it…This person does not consider himself or herself…the liberator of the oppressed; but he or she does commit himself or herself, within history, to fight at their side.”

Paulo Freire








Published by: Julia E. Torres

I am a mother, high school Language Arts teacher, activist, world traveler, and reader. Here you will find the story of a woman making her way in the world and making her mark, one word, and one classroom at a time.

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