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My time teaching English at Lone Star College-Tomball has been such a gift. Not only does it allow me to let my analytical, theoretical, and organizational side shine, but it’s also an opportunity to pass on what I’ve learned about (and from) writing to my students.
Like so many aspects of life, writing can be so solitary. In the classroom, my students find the connection, community, and constructive feedback they need to express themselves and hone their craft.
In my courses, I offer each student the freedom to express and experiment in a safe, supportive environment, empowering them to create the same comfort and catharsis I’ve found in my writing practice.
“I heard them whistle my name…
They wanted me to know I could swim the turbulent waters
without drowning.”
“Swimming, Not Drowning” — Swimming, Not Drowning
I consider myself more than a poet and professor. I’m a passionate painter, singer, and dancer as well. Every art form I engage in overlaps, informing each other, giving even the most challenging feelings a rhythm, a color, a sound, and a shape.
Dance in particular has always fascinated me. Growing up in Spain, I watched all of Fred Astaire’s movies, mesmerized by the elegance and smoothness of the movements. As a teen, I loved Michael Jackson. I learned the “Thriller” choreography, taught it to my cousins, and together, we recreated the music video in Retamar, Almería, my hometown.
Here in Texas, I’ve found a dance home in Dance with Me Dance Studios, where I’ve been learning to dance since 2018. Salsa, cha cha, mambo, rumba, bachata, merengue, swing, hustle, waltz, tango, foxtrot, paso dobre and samba— with every step of every style I learn, I connect more with my own body and with the people I partner with.
In poetry, every detail matters — from word choice and rhythm to line breaks and form. In dance, every part of me plays a crucial part — my arms, my legs, my hips, my feet, my hands. Done well, the result is harmony, a work of art.
Toni Morrison described it so well: writing is the dance of one open mind that engages with another one. I couldn’t agree more.
There’s nothing more satisfying than connecting with someone I’ve never met through the words I’ve written, the words I’ve read, the steps of a dance, or the beat of a song.
That transformative, uniting power is exactly what I aim to teach my students.
It’s what I hope my poetry — and any art — can do for you, too.
“The future holds secrets she wants to uncover…”
“The Thief” — The Valley of Your Life
“…your silence spoke to me in words I could touch…”
“Self-Portrait As My Mother” — Swimming, Not Drowning
There’s no higher honor for a poet than to connect deeply with our readers, but receiving literary awards and winning poetry prizes like these remind me why — and how much — poetry matters.
