September 17
All day as I am meeting with parents, we talk about grief. I listen, drop in my heart and give space for tears that need to flow. They say, “it’s been a week, but I can’t stop crying.” Of course not, I assure them, it will be years. I try to help them to remember that the only answer to grief is to cry, to desahogarse, a word I love which means ‘undrown yourself.’ I remind them that this is our divine design. That all babies cry when they’re upset, that we are born knowing what to do. I encourage them to rest and trust their body to guide them. I share how grief is a wave that crests and subsides if we allow it. Many mamas say they don’t want to cry in front of the children because they don’t wanna upset them and they worry if they cry that everyone will be just be crying, collapse in grief. And I tell them that is exactly the thing to do; to have a lot of snuggle moments and puppy piles letting the tears flow. To cry and cry and cry. Surprisingly I see even the culturally macho man nodding in agreement, knowing that there’s no escape from this grief. They really couldn’t push it down if they tried. It’s everywhere.
Everything I’m doing in this effort, and this intentional way that I’m doing it, is to support our remembering of what it means to be human connected. Like our ancestors, beautifully we know how to tend to ourselves and tend to each other, especially when basic needs are met. I’m so grateful to all of you for helping me tend to them with cash support that allows families a moment of relief and space for the grief so we can begin these conversations. I’m letting every family know that if they’d like to we will continue to have time together. I’ve been told my superpower is to make people cry (In a good way). I’ve developed this ‘superpower’ through many years of curling up in a ball, holding my inner niña and letting her grieve all the years of feeling invisible, forgotten while just wanting to belong. (And supporting such healing for over 20 years) As one human to another, I’m giving everyone my phone number, as a friend, as someone who will help in the long course. I love social workers and nonprofits and I’ve helped in this role. But as a foster child, I distinctly remember the distance, the too quick exchanges, the feeling of being just a number. The trafficked youth I’ve worked with echo this deeply. (It is not social worker’s fault, it is being overworked and mired in paperwork and overwhelming need) I’m so grateful for all the donations that are allowing me to bring in support simply as a human, a friend. I will hold space as long as it takes. We are in this for the long haul and we are in it together.
To Donate:
Go Fund Me: www.gofundme.com/f/almedafireslatinxrelief
Venmo: @sylvia-Poareo
Note:
I’ve been sharing my experience of the Almeda Fire in southern Oregon on my Facebook page, but I want to share it here so you can all walk with me on this journey. Click the “Almeda Fire” tag at the bottom of this post to read the entire series.