Finding My 10 by 10

Wind and unexpected rain led masses of students into a canvas tent that covered the main stage. The Geraldine R. Dodge Poetry Festival was held biennially, this year among the hills and pines of Duke Farms. A charmingly small Mexican-American woman with a piercing voice, Sandra Cisneros, was that afternoon’s featured poet. Her writing was dangerous and honest. It was decorated with words like Wáchale that I could not find in a Spanish dictionary. Heritage, she said, will influence your writing. Cisneros talked about mixing her Mexican background with her youth in blue-collar Chicago, peppering her poetry with unique memories and personality.

I needed help defining the parts of my own heritage. At the time for questions, I raised my hand to see how the queen of cultural expression could guide me. “Ms. Cisneros,” I rose from the second row, “if I cannot identify diversity in my own life where should I speak from?”

I must have looked desperate for direction, but the small woman nodded. Your gift, she explained to me, is that no one can ever imitate you. Search for your 10 by 10; find ten items that make you different, within those ten items find ten more items that make you different, and ten more, and ten more. Your 10 by 10 is your voice. Write from your 10 by 10.

Like Sandra Cisneros I had a story to tell. Once I embraced my own voice, I could develop a consistency in my writing. I began to craft my 10 by 10. The appreciation for tradition I nurture with slices of my Aunt Grace’s Orange Pound Cake. The secret desire I possess to laugh the loudest at every movie. The love I have of performing, even when there is not an audience. The expanding fascination I am developing for Abstract Expressionist Art. The dedicated parents who have attended every choir concert since elementary school. The understanding I cultivate for other generations by practicing “The Jitterbug” with Mrs. Kephart, an elderly family friend. Thomas Sweet, the ice cream parlor in which I have worked since sophomore year. The shadow-box desk in my room that frames stubs from concerts I attend, bumper stickers, and pictures of my friends. The superstition that convinces me to “knock on wood” if I ever jeopardize a wish.

I am diverse because of the experiences that create my identity. I may not be diverse in the way that my Indian-American, Chinese-American, and African-American classmates are, but we are all individuals shaped by our unique histories and traditions. I also contribute to the diversity of my community.

As Sandra Cisneros explained, my gift is that no one can ever imitate me.