Issuu

FALL 2023

IN THIS ISSUE 3

Letter from the Gaines Director

Bale Boone Symposium with George Saunders

Field Trips with the Fellows

A Campus Keynote from Robin Wall Kimmerer

\Meet our Junior Fellows

Gaines Mini Grants

Alumni Spotlight: Teja Sudhakar

from the

GAINES DIRECTOR Dear Friends of the Gaines Center, It is hard to believe that the fall semester is ending and that I am halfway through my stint as acting director. Fall was exciting, as is usual in the Gaines Center—although the seniors, hard at work on their thesis first drafts, may want to parse the definition of “exciting”! We welcomed our 2024 Gaines Fellows, and both senior and junior cohorts got to know each other at our annual “retreat” at Asbury College and Shaker Village of Pleasant Hill. I have really enjoyed reconnecting with Gaines alums and colleagues and especially meeting new “friends of Gaines.” On the more mundane administrative side of things, I am confident that the Gaines Program is on solid ground and continues to thrive. Our students are, of course, the best. I am so lucky to be able to work with the dedicated and extraordinary team of Chelsea Brislin and Catherine Brereton who really are the everyday heart and soul of this place. I have met with our Faculty of Record and the Board of Directors; both these meetings made me wish I was fifteen years younger and had the energy to contemplate a more-than-acting engagement here on Maxwell Street. The good news is that Senior Associate Provost Katie Cardarelli has been particularly devoted to our next phase. She has been guiding me and the Board toward an imminent posting for a new director so that we can enter the new year with a full search for a permanent Gaines Endowed Chair and Gaines Center Director. On the more exciting programmatic side of things, the semester’s highlight was our “sold out” Bale Boone symposium with George Saunders at the historic Kentucky Theater. If you missed it, you can find a video of the event on our YouTube channel. This year’s Lafayette Seminar (Monsters, Myths, and the Metaphysical) will be held in April at both the Kentucky Theatre and the Carnegie Center in Lexington and will include lectures on vampires and local folklore as well as a ghost walk, a mediated film screening, and a metaphysical showcase! Our junior year seminar once again has a stellar group of “guest” faculty, and we have just lined up a full complement of seminar leaders for next year’s focus on Health and the Humanities. I have spent much of my “thinking” time in the Gaines Center this fall reviewing and discussing with Catherine and Chelsea and our stakeholders many of the processes and procedures we have in place to ensure both student and Center success, especially regarding our role as the Gaines Center for the Humanities. The Gaines Center has always been a university and community advocate for the Humanities, and that role is as important as ever (if not more so) in today’s national social, political, and funding climate. I am impressed by how many people across campus and in the community look to us as a beacon for interdisciplinary humanities teaching, scholarship, and service. To that end, we are continuing to build and solidify a network of partners to maintain our strong system of mutual support. At a more quotidian level, that might mean building upon our experimental “mini-grants” program to support faculty, student, and staff humanities-based research and activities across campus. We have been talking with our good friends in Philanthropy on how we might modestly build this out and assure its fiscal basis in the future. But of course, that will be the prerogative of new leadership in the coming years. For now, I look forward to the holiday break that I am sure everyone needs, to the exciting things to come in the Spring semester, and to more fishing in my future after June 30th. Once again, please do contact me with your thoughts, ideas, memories, and suggestions for the Gaines Center and our future. I can at least continue to compile a list of ideas for the next director and the continued success of the Gaines Center and all our activities.

Brim Narrow Combined 1

by Brenna Staser, Gaines Fellow ‘25 This October, the Gaines Center for the Humanities presented the 2023 Bale Boone Symposium: a free, annual symposium that brings together campus, community, and the Commonwealth to explore themes and genres of the arts and humanities. For this year’s symposium, the Gaines Center hosted Tenth of December and Lincoln in the Bardo author George Saunders. George Saunders is the author of twelve books and recipient of MacArthur and Guggenheim Fellowships, the PEN/Malamud Prize, and the 2017 Man Booker Prize for best work of fiction in English for Lincoln in the Bardo. In 2013, Saunders was named one of the world’s 100 most influential people by Time Magazine. Saunders has appeared on “The Colbert Report” and “Light Night with David Letterman,” and his works have been featured in The New Yorker and GQ. magazine.

“An Evening with George Saunders” was moderated by Dr. Chelsea Brislin, associate director of the Gaines Center at the University of Kentucky. As the Gaines Center’s 2023-2024 theme is “Myths and Monsters,” Saunders’ and Brislin’s discussion of Lincoln in the Bardo calls for a particular spotlight in Kentucky, the birthplace of the monumental and (in Saunders’ terms) “god-like” President Lincoln. While some may say that writing a novel about Lincoln is akin to writing about Jesus, Saunders discussed the time spent with his “version” of Lincoln, an icon that becomes multidimensional within Lincoln in the Bardo. To Saunders, Lincoln retains critical moments where “God comes out” but is still humorous and anxious. In examining the “myths” of the colossal President Lincoln, Saunders recounted working within the contours of history, an employment that requires understanding the fragility of memory and utilizing material and imaginative invention. Within these dimensions, Saunders’ discussion of Lincoln in the Bardo offered an incredible insight into the novel’s engagement with permanence, particularly on President Lincoln’s visit to his son’s tomb. In addition to Lincoln in the Bardo, Saunders also discussed his work in short stories, particularly those that are “dystopian” in nature. Saunders defined dystopia as a “slight turn of the dial,” a system that is supposed to work yet falters “when the heat is on.” Saunders assigned fiction the power to remind the reader of society’s continual state of dystopia, stating that while one may believe they are not in dystopia, “their neighbor might be.” Dystopian fiction, to Saunders, turns the reader's mind to this continual state, an understanding that lends itself to compassion. Saunders described dystopian fiction as a reminder of this never-ending affliction, ultimately resulting in an empathetic perspective of those around us.

Dr. Brislin and George Saunders also discussed the rising concern surrounding the “ownership” of a story or identity, specifically concerning cultural appropriation and improper representation of marginalized and disenfranchised people. Saunders described his representation of others, particularly those in marginalized groups, akin less to an accurate “representation” but more so as an exploratory, (as opposed to “documentary-like”) personal perspective. Authors, according to Saunders, engage in a “hopeful contract” when writing literature in regards to representing others; the “tolerance of the form” gives an author permission to imagine another’s experience. Saunders stated that, if “ownership” of a particular story were to exist, it would give permission only to the most disenfranchised members of society. Almost no one, according to Saunders, could write a story about anyone, including stories about ourselves. In the latter example, Saunders referred to writing a story about one’s ten-year-old self, explaining that it, according to the story’s center character, would not be an “accurate” depiction within this definition of ownership. In writing about downtrodden and disadvantaged people, Saunders spoke about writing these characters with compassion—a compassion so intense Saunders claimed to feel “love” for that character. If a writer, according to Saunders, imagines their character as multidimensional and complex, they do their “due diligence” in their representation. Saunders also made mention of his writing community, stating that his wife is his first reader. Saunders explained that both his wife and himself have little room for “literary frippery” as they both come from working-class families—a characteristic that resulted in one of Saunders’ books, La Boda de Eduardo, not making it to print. Saunders also discussed his writing community as a collection of “souls,” some present and some not, whose writing seems to “come from inside

you.” Saunders referred to Kentucky writer Bobbie Ann Mason’s Shiloh and Other Stories, specifically her “warmth” and humor in describing working-class people. Saunders explains that this community, whether coming from Kentucky or “Bill” Shakespeare, shows not only that one is not alone, but that their “ideas and feelings are not entirely original.” As a professor at Syracuse University, Saunders also spoke about the influence teaching has informed his work as an author. Saunders stated that, from teaching, he has learned that “talent is eternal.” Though his students may express themselves in different ways than the generations of authors before them have, Saunders described the human mind as in a state of “renewal” regarding talent.

Before the symposium, George Saunders spoke with the junior and senior Gaines Fellows and UKY MFA students. As I am a junior Gaines fellow and English major, Saunders shared incredible insight and advice not only in writing short stories and novels but also understanding one’s identity and surrounding space through writing. Saunders aims for his writing to serve as a “mental communion” between himself and his audience, providing “entertainment, education, and excitement” for the reader. Saunders made specific reference to the role irony plays within his works, stating that it resonates as a “secret code” with the reader. Cruelty and humor mix with irony in many of Saunders’ works, a characteristic Saunders believes stems from his character. While Saunders believes that an author’s writing comes from their identity, Saunders described the importance of breaking out of a “narrow” talent. Saunders advocated against “settling in” to one’s writing, a goal pushed by a fear of being boring. Interesting people, according to Saunders, “stay along for the ride” and fight against a gravestone that reads “didn’t do the thing they most wanted to do.”

Like Lincoln in the Bardo and many of Saunders’ short stories, Saunders’ on-stage and smalldiscussion presence was both compelling and comedic, serious yet entertaining. The audience was captivated by Saunders’ discussion of President Lincoln visiting his son’s tomb and, in the next moment, laughing at Saunders’ characterization of being on hold with IKEA as “dystopian.” Paired with Dr. Brislin’s witty and illuminating questions and comments, the Bale Boone Symposium offered both laughter and food for thought for scholars, Kentuckians, and viewers alike.

photos by Danica Hak, Gaines Fellow ‘24

Did you miss An Evening with George Saunders? Or just want to see it again? CLICK HERE for our recording of the event.

ASBURY

The Low Ropes course at Asbury is always a great way to kick off orientation for our new Gaines Fellows!

During the ropes course my team had the chance to support each other and work together very cloely while laughing through our struggles.

"I loved putting my phone down and creating new friendships and bonds that I feel will last beyond my time at UK." Our overnight stay in Shaker Village was such a restorative and peaceful experience.

"My favorite memory was making s’mores, sharing stories, and laughing lots with my whole Gaines family."

SHAKER VILLAGE

A CAMPUS KEYNOTE FROM 2022 MACARTHUR FELLOW

ROBIN WALL KIMMERER

On April 6, 2023 the Gaines Center for the Humanities was proud to cosponsor a lecture from the celebrated author of Gathering Moss and Braiding Sweetgrass, Robin Wall Kimmerer. Kimmerer: a mother, plant ecologist, MacArthur Fellow, professor, and enrolled member of the Citizen Potawatomi Nation, discussed “Indigenous Wisdom and Scientific Knowledge” in front of nearly 1,000 students, faculty, staff and community members at the Singletary Center for the Performing Arts. She began with an expression of gratitude for the community and the gifts of the Earth that “shower us every, single day.” This sentiment served as a thread throughout Kimmerer’s discussion—a reoccurring reminder that human exceptionalism is rooted in an artificial, ecological hierarchy which ultimately harms all. She very carefully balanced her remarks to deliver both the urgency of our current climate situation, and the resilience of nature once we begin to listen to what the Earth is asking of us. She argued that it is not each other, but rather nature that will usher in the next chapter of our evolution, and it is the Earth that is asking us now to change how we navigate our daily life. Perhaps one of the most impactful takeaways from Dr. Kimmerer came when she discussed how we have lost so much knowledge around the medicinal uses, recognition, and preservation of native plants. She cited a recent study where American elementary school children were able to successfully recognize 100 corporate logos including AOL, Taco Bell, Volkswagen, and General Mills. When the same children were asked to identify local plants, they averaged only 10 identifications (one of which was a Christmas tree). Dr. Kimmerer concluded by sharing a folktale she learned from Tom Porter (a Mohawk spiritual leader) about two brothers. The brothers were twins and were always in competition with one another. One brother was skilled at creation: he would make blackberries and turn the current of the rivers to make it easier on fish and man. The other brother represented destruction: he would add thorns to those blackberry bushes, and change the direction of the water back. These two opposing forces fought on until finally the brothers decided to determine once and for all who should reign over all of creation by using what is known as the “Peach Stone” game. They would toss peach pits into the air again and again (painted black on one side, and white on the other) and when all the stones landed on the same side, the color shown would determine the winner: creation or destruction. Right before dawn, on the last toss, nearly every stone landed with the black side facing up—with one still yet to land, suspended in the air. At that moment, all of creation saw the impending destruction and screamed in a unified voice, shaking the earth so that the stone flipped at the last moment and landed with the white side up—saving the Earth. This fable was a powerful metaphor for what is possible if we begin to embrace indigenous knowledge and work together to begin mending what we have done to our environment. Dr. Kimmerer left the audience on a note of inspiration and, more importantly, hope for what we can achieve when we work together and raise our collective voices to advocate for a future of peace, prosperity and balance with the natural world. DR. CHELSEA BRISLIN, ASSOCIATE DIRECTOR

FELLOWS’ ACCOMPLISHMENTS Astronaut Scholarship (Isha Chauhan) Mitchell Scholarship Finalist (Gretchen Ruschman) Marshall Scholarship Nominee (Nicholas Relich) Chicago Federal Reserve Bank Economic Research Internship (Shria Holla) 2023 Student of the Year, School of Interiors (Joseph Cox) National conference presentations (Isha Chauhan, Ellie Browning, Lucas Lima) College of Design Excellence in Research (Danica Gaines Fellow ‘24 Hak) Bates Dance Festival Training Program (Kate Walker) Your generosity enables us to English-Speaking Union Scholarship (Ella Brown- support our Fellows in their coTerry) and extra-curricular pursuits. A&S Summer Research Fellowship (Mariana Last year, friends and alumni of Escobedo de la Peña) the Gaines Center raised over College of Agriculture Ambassador (Timihia $20,000 during One Day for UK. Murphy) We continue to be grateful for President of “Blue Note” Acapella Organization your support. If you would like (Alyssah Robinson) to give to the Gaines Center, you Vice President, UK Mock Trial Team (Brenna can do so by clicking the link Staser) below, or viewing the QR code at Women in Philanthropy Finalist (James Overly) the bottom of the page: Primary Dancer, UK HOME Concert (Anna uky.networkforgood.com Benton) Critical Language Scholarship Applicant (Alycie Caya)

Kate Walker

meet our

JUNIOR FELLOWS

Anna Benton

Ella Brown-Terry

Lucas Carlos de Lima

Alycie Caya

Dance & Arts Administration

English, Anthropology, & French

Architecture & Historic Preservation

International Economics & Foreign Language, Environmental & Sustainability Studies

Mariana Escobedo de la Peña

Timihia Murphy

Sociology & Gender & Women's Studies

Landscape Architecture

We welcomed twelve new Gaines Fellows in Fall 2023, representing six colleges and twelve majors. Our fellows were chosen through a rigorous application process and include first generation and international students. We couldn't be more delighted to have all of them as part of our program and are excited to see them develop as scholars over the next two years.

James Overly

Alyssah Robinson

Biology, Neuroscience, Psychology

History & African American and Africana Studies

Daniela Rodriguez Soto

Diksha Satish

Avery Schanbacher

Brenna Staser

Management & Marketing, International Business

Music, English

Biology, Mathematics

English, Philosophy

GAINES CLASS OF 2025

MAJA SIDZINSKA

DAVID SLOAN WILLIAMS

MELISSA ESTES BLAIR

Cogito, Ergo Summus? The Pregnancy Problem in Descarte’s Philosophy

Generalized Darwinism: A New Paradigm for Positive Cultural Change

Bringing Home the White House

MILLS KELLY

JOSEPH DUDI MIABOK

JOHN YAU

The Impact of AI on Humanities Pedagogy

Conflict-Induced Displacements Symposium

Disguise the Limit: John Yau Collaborations

GAINES 2023-24

MINI-GRANTS NOW IN ITS FOURTH YEAR, THE GAINES CENTER MINIGRANT PROGRAM CONTINUES TO THRIVE, SUPPORTING EXCITING HUMANITIES INITIATIVES ACROSS THE UNIVERSITY OF KENTUCKY’S CAMPUS

EMILY MOKROS

VERONICA POLINEDRIO

JEFFREY WASSERSTROM

“Making History” Graduate Alumni Symposium

Design Thinking for Global Health Challenges

History Department Workshop

CHERIE RIVERS NDALIKO

RENEE GALLAHER

TANSEN SEN

Dimensions of Political Ecology Conference

The Zentangle Experience: An Interactive Art Workshop

Social Theory Speaker Series

MATTHEW KOHRMAN

RICHARD JEAN SO

ARNIKA FUHRMANN

Social Theory Speaker Series

A L U M N I

S P O T L I G H T

TEJA SUDHAKAR G A I N E S

C L A S S

O F

2 0 2 2

Gaines has found a special, permanent place in my heart because of its people. As a lover of community, Gaines has given me a network that I never knew I needed. One special person in this network is Teja Sudhakar. Teja used to be an enigma to me. She was as kind as a person could be, almost to a fault, every time I spoke with her. However, the way in which she would share her ideas was unlike anything I had experienced in the past – especially within the Indian community to which we both belong. Little did I know, that was the artist in her. I was elated when Catherine reached out to ask if I would interview Teja. Please enjoy a glimpse into Teja’s process and background. I can confidently say, Teja is deeply respected by me, her community, and all of UK. S H R I A

H O L L A ’ 2 4

Shria: Could you tell us a little bit about who you are, what you’re up to lately, and how life has been lately? Teja: Who I am, big question! I am a grad student at Indiana University. I am doing my Master of Fine Arts in poetry right now. I am 22, and I am a poet. I write a lot about language loss, immigration, and my mom. Pretty much everything is about my mom. I have a cat, and life is pretty good. I am stressed about school, and thinking about the future is always stressful. But I have great friends. I have good music, and I am trying to appreciate that. I am surrounded by amazing artists who really inspire me. I feel so grateful for that. Shria: Could you tell us a bit about your childhood, any inspiration you take from that, and how it built your journey to coming to the University of Kentucky? Teja: Wow, big question! I was born in South India and immigrated to the United States at age five. I lived in a couple states before Kentucky, but I went to middle school and high school in Lexington. I love UK so much. Especially now that I have moved here [Indiana], people know how much I love Kentucky and how much I talk about Kentucky. When I tell other people about my college experience, they are always jealous of me because of the way I talk about UK. I had the best college experience anyone could probably have, and I feel so lucky for it all the time. UK ended up being the best 4 years of my life. (Shria: How did Gaines fit into that experience? Why did you apply to the program? What do you feel you gained from it? Teja: I was in a STEM program in high school. My mom is a doctor. My dad is an engineer-turned-businessman. My parents have no experience with the humanities. Growing up, I was such an avid reader, and my parents would always say “Why are you wasting your time with these silly fantasy books?” My entire high school experience was biology, chemistry, physics, and I did not even know what else was out there. I was a neuroscience major, and I was pre-med. But I just was not passionate about it, you know. I felt like I was breaking their heart and also entering something that they did not understand. I realized I had internalized so much of those values that said only STEM degrees are important degrees or that you can only be smart in this particular way. You can’t be smart if you read books, but you’re smart if you can do math or if you are really good at science. Then I found out about Gaines. My parents, immigrant parents, they value concrete things of rankings and things that are difficult to get into. On the surface level, the first reason I applied was “Okay I can make my parents proud. I can also show my parents that the humanities have something valuable and studying humanities is just as ‘rigorous’ and prestigious as a STEM degree.” I then also realized that poetry was becoming more important to me and more a part of my life that I could not ignore. I was a psychology major, but I knew I did not want to do a psychology thesis. Then I learned about the Gaines Fellowship and all the travel opportunities. I thought that now I have an excuse to have more humanities classes and have an excuse to do a poetry thesis. I can be allowed to do a poetry thesis. I felt Gaines was the first way that I was able to value my own interests and my own art as valuable and not as something “inferior” to STEM.

Shria: You mentioned that poetry slowly became a bigger part of your life. Could you tell us a bit about how that manifested itself? Have you always written poetry, or did you spend time every now and then discovering your love for it? Whatever it was, could you tell us about that journey? Teja: I love thinking about how I started. It’s technically my parents’ fault. I remember in fourth grade, we had to write short stories in our writing class, and I just got way too excited about mine. I remember forcing the teacher to let me present my story to the class. I made the teacher make time in the class for me to read my story out loud. But, back then in elementary school, I was writing for my class but not in my free time. What really changed things was, in middle school, my parents got me an English/SAT tutor. Her name is Carole Johnston, and she is a retired SCAPA English teacher. For ten minutes every class, she would do a creative exercise with me, and that was my first exposure to creative writing. I just loved it every week, and I would look forward to her coming. She would make me put them all the words together in a fun little paragraph, and I just loved it. At first, I was writing stories and fan fiction, but then she had me write an “I am from” poem. I think she saw something in me that I did not see in myself. I did not know that I was a good writer.

“I did not know that I was a good writer”

”

In high school, I went to the Governor’s School for the Arts (GSA) in creative writing, and they would call us an artist every single day. That really changed my life because I had never considered myself an artist before. I knew I liked writing, but this was the first place they called me a poet, a writer, or an artist. In college, I noticed that I started finding more excuses to do poetry in my free time, so I started a writing club because I could not find one on campus that was active. Also, for school assignments, I tried to make them more creative. Then I tried taking English classes. Wherever I had room in my schedule, I was fitting in poetry. By senior year, I was doing my Gaines thesis. I talked to an English professor over the summer, and I asked her about grad school for English. She said that I wanted to do an MFA. She said I am avoiding the thing I really want to do. I realized it could not be a hobby anymore. I was finding every other excuse to do poetry, so clearly, I just wanted to do poetry. Shria: You did talk a little about your work with Gaines. It gave you a tangible reason for taking your humanities classes. As far as choosing poetry as your future and choosing that as your track, did Gaines have a hand in that? Could you tell us about its part in becoming an official artist, on a piece of paper this time? Teja: Gaines definitely had a big influence on my grad school admissions process. I felt like the Gaines thesis motivated me to actually do something that I cared about. The deadlines were one thing, but I felt really ambitious. I told myself, “If I am going to do a thesis, it is going to be a banger.” The Gaines thesis gave me the opportunity to get closer with the professors who taught me things. I already had a poetry mentor, Dr. Rebecca Howell. However, this was another opportunity to work with her closely.

I knew that the thesis had to be something really specific. At first, I thought maybe poetry about women, then women of color. When I say women, I include non-binary people, trans people like trans women. So, in all, queer people of color. Then I realized immigration was something I could never run away from in my writing, so I decided to write about that. All my writing, some thread of it, is tied back to that. When I was applying to MFA programs in December, I sent my poetry mentor a bunch of random poems that I was working on. They were random old poems that I could use for my application. My mentor said, “No, you’re going to use your thesis poems. This is the most exciting work you have.” I was so scared to use those since they were first drafts and totally unrevised. But I took her advice, and I am so glad I did because those were the poems that got me into a bunch of schools. I think they are what made my grad school application so strong because I talked about my Gaines thesis in my personal statement so they could see the project I was working on. Then I showed them those exact poems in my sample, so they could see the result of that project. I was so stressed about my thesis, but it ended up being one of the best things to happen to me in undergrad. Then second semester, Gaines funded me to print my book. (Teja pulls her book off a stand made specially for it with the absolute brightest smile on her face saying, “Here I have it!”) I would not have been able to do that. It is a lot of money, but they funded me to print a large number of copies. I think it was at least fifty to a hundred copies. It was the first time I felt like a real author. Without Gaines, I think I would have done a normal psychology thesis. There is nothing bad about that, but that would have been the safe thesis to do. This was the scary, unsafe thesis, and I was so glad I got to do it with Gaines. Shria: Could you tell us a little more about your chapbook and the inspiration behind it? Teja: I knew I wanted to do oral history. I got bored of writing about myself. I felt like I had written just so much about myself as an immigrant. I wanted to hear other people’s stories and center other women. At first, the chapbook was going to be totally about other people, and I talked to my mentor about it. I felt it was most ethnical not to include myself at all and center other people. My mentor said that I should actually include myself because then I am offering the same kind of vulnerability that I am asking of my interviewees. She told me that when you include yourself in the manuscript, you are putting yourself on the same plane of vulnerability as the people you are interviewing. I was afraid of telling somebody’s story wrong or how that power would play in the project. All the poems in the chap book are called “the interviewer asks…” or “the interviewer says…” or “the interviewer does this does that…” I am the character of the interviewer, that is me. There are poems that are about the interviewer. The poems that are “the interviewer asks…” or “the interviewer says…” those are about someone else. They are persona poems.

One title would be “the interviewer asks, ‘How did you keep your grace?’” That would be the question I asked in the interview, and then I write a poem based off their answer. My process was that I did interviews with five first generation immigrant women. Then I would go through their interview transcripts. I would remember particular points in the interview where I knew I have to write about that. Then I would go back and find that exact quote, and in a lot of the poems there is a seed of the exact wording or the exact quote they said. Usually I would start from that one line and think about the rest of their story and how that line could unfold. Then I would trace back to whatever question I had asked in order to inspire that quote from them, and that became the question in the title. The process made me feel really close to these women. My interviews would usually be about two hours long because, at some point, we would start just talking about life. I had a set of questions, but we would dive off into whatever they wanted to talk about. It was important to me to retain their individuality, but also tell a collective story. I wanted to return humanity to immigrants, especially because we are seen so often as numbers. When hate crimes happen, we are always seen as victims. I feel poetry simultaneously offers somebody their humanity and individuality, while also speaking to a larger situation that can be felt so universally even by people who are not immigrants. Shria: That was wonderful. Where do you see your work going forward? Both now with your master’s program and your future as a poet. In what direction are you heading? Teja: Let me just list some themes. I am at the point where I am trying to write consistently and then see what the poems teach me about myself. After doing the Gaines thesis, I knew I wanted a project so bad, but I could not find something that I felt strongly about. Then I realized maybe I should just write and let the poems talk to me. Lately I have been obsessed with the idea of being an immigrant and losing your first language – language loss. I have been doing a lot of personifications of language. I have been writing about my childhood memories, language loos, and my mother and grandmother, especially because my grandmother is losing her memory due to dementia.

There is a lot of silence in my family. We are not really a storytelling family, so I wrote a letter to my grandma asking about her life because I am afraid that time is running out. I have been thinking a lot about immigration and memory and how memory loss relates to language loss, time, and aging. My mom is in India right now, so I am asking her to bring back a lot of family photographs. I want to work with family archives, family photos, and maybe, one day, interview family members. I am archiving loss. It is still about immigration at large, but it also more so about what womanhood, memory, and time mean to me. About what being a girl, daughter, or mother means to me.

Shria: Shifting gears a bit, could you share some fond memories of Gaines? Teja: Gaines deepened my friendship with my friend, Natalie [Harrington, Gaines Class of 2022]. We would have “thesis nights” when we were both really stressed. It was really cold outside, and she would just show up on my porch or at my backdoor. This time she showed up at the back door of my house and came in with her muddy shoes. We made horrible, horrible pasta together with marinara sauce bought form the store. Then we sat in my horrible living room. She had her laptop out, and I had my laptop out. I said, “I need a title. I am screwed.” I think Chelsea had sent me an email asking what the title of my book was, and I asked Natalie to help me come up with one. She asked what some of the themes and recurring images of my book are. A recurring image was that gunshots and fireworks sound the same time. Natalie Googled how to tell the difference between gunshots and fireworks, and one of the first articles that came up had a line that said, “It’s as easy as looking for smoke.” I knew that was it. That was the title. Those moments happened because of Gaines. Even though the thesis is stressful and forces you to do work, it brings along some of the fondest memories. I have fond memories of staying up really late with Natalie, going to Chocolate Holler with Natalie, or simply being stressed together. I do write a lot about heavy grief. But a big reason I came to Indiana University is because of Ross Gay. I am obsessed with is work. I think a big misconception about Ross is that he is a joy poet who writes about joy. They say, “Oh that’s the happy guy.” If you actually read his work, it is full of grief. He talks about his best friend being murdered and about his dad dying – watching him die. He talks about being really depressed and all these horrible things that have happened to him and generally in the world. It is easy to say, “just be happy.” One of his biggest philosophies is that joy is joining of souls. There cannot be joy without grief, and when we bring our grief together, that is what makes joy. I would say, I think I am writing about joy too. That moment with Natalie is filled with stress and anxiety, but I just think of joy when I think of it now.

Shria: On that note, do you have any advice for current Gaines fellows or young creatives in general? Teja: Specifically for creative people, find any opportunity to make anything go towards your creative work. If you are in a class and you have a final paper, ask the professor how creative it can get. Just try to stretch any possibility to make your art the priority, and that is what they teach us to do here. We have to be teachers in grad school, and a lot of people say, “Oh teaching is a waste of time. Teaching takes time away from your creativity.” But I think what they teach us instead is, “How can we make our teaching useful to us as writers?” Every writing prompt that I give my students, I do as well. That gives me time to be a writer. Whatever form of creativity, try to find the gaps in anything to make it creative and something you actually care about, especially your Gaines thesis. You could make it an arts thesis. To young Gaines fellows, really lean on each other, especially during thesis time. Get through your grief by doing it together. You will look back on it, and if you are doing a project you really care about, you will be grateful for it in the end – even if it feels horrible, and it really does at times. Just help each other. I owe Natalie my title, and I just owe her so much.

The interviewer stands On a Saturday I leave midway through my paper on war poetry to drive home to my mother. I’ve become an expert on safety & how to go about finding it. On the way there I listen to Tamil songs. I’d forgotten I knew the words. Nothing is safe about my mother: we are a war on its brink, our arrows aimed. But she’s made the kitchen smell now like payasam, sweet milk and cashew. For a moment our blades are sheathed as I clove tomatoes, turn chopped onions in their turmeric, cumin, chili powder glaze. Nobody warns you that war smells like coconut milk, cardamom, that war-making is in the backs of your mother’s arms circling around your own. The next morning at Quaker meeting, I remember war and safety can be indistinguishable, how god can look like a room full of silence. My mother is the safest colonel I know: she is both the shelter & the bomb striking it, the tanks and their wide black shadows. I’ve never spoken in church before, but today the clouds pull through a barred window, and the rain builds inside of them like a thousand wet feet. My throat isn’t ready for the words it’s holding. After a war, nobody teaches you how to grieve. Nobody tells you that the lining of your heart must be shed. Today I feel mine leave through my open mouth. My feet bite into the holy ground: it is the last day of war: the teeth are digging, the teeth are digging—

by Teja Sudhakar

@ukygainescenter | uky.edu/gainescenter