Sierra Leone is a writer, storyteller, and teaching artist whose voice has shaped Dayton’s cultural landscape for over 20 years. In 2025, she was named Dayton’s first Poet Laureate, a recognition of her leadership at the forefront of the city’s urban creative arts and spoken word poetry movement.
In this episode, you’ll hear more about Sierra’s journey and the future she wants to create as Dayton’s poet laureate. Stay tuned until the end for two powerful readings she shares just for our listeners!
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Evelyn Ritzi: Welcome to Creating the Future. I’m Evelyn Ritzi
David Bowman: And I’m David Bowman
Evelyn: and today we’re joined by a passionate and prolific writer, storyteller, teaching artist, entrepreneur, Executive Director and Dayton’s first poet laureate, Sierra Leone, Sierra, welcome!
Sierra Leone: Hello, hello, hello. It’s such a joy to be here today.
Evelyn: Thank you for joining us. So I really wanted to start with you and your story and ask you know how you got into a creative mindset, and writing in particular, was creativity part of your life growing up,
Sierra: I would say, growing up around a third grade or so, my mother, she she purchased a journal for me, and it was a way for me to express myself without consequence. And so being a child with a large, an enormous imagination, and already rooted in common sense, because I spent a lot of time with my grandparents, and so in turn, I would make observations that could, you know, get you in trouble. And so in turn, I had this journal, and that really grew into journaling of all types, travel, journals, time, journals, thought, journals, food. What am I eating? Every type of journal you could keep. I had just began to keep journals and and then I began to write poetry, but it was more through song. So I loved R and B music, and so my love for R and B music and poly rhythms and lyrical rhyme and connection and the way it felt in the Bali body, it sort of drew me to writing poetry, and it was I wrote my first poem in the ninth grade, but I didn’t realize that I was going to do work in poetry, because the summer after I graduated from high school, I went straight to college right after high school, and the professor was in love with Robert Frost, and I was not at the time, I didn’t have that understanding my urban footprint and humble beginnings. You know, creating an expression really was a way to navigate circumstances that were not of my liking, and experiences that I did not create, but I had to live with within and and share spaces, yeah, with people that I did not want to share spaces with, because of circumstance, but also in That beauty, in that summer, where I could really lean into the road, less taken the road not traveled. This, this, this pathway, I was able to then reach back and see so much of the beauty that came from my humble beginnings, so much of the love, so many of the things I couldn’t buy and purchase. And it was in my first creative writing class that I took that fall where the instructor gave us an apple. And I thought it was going to be the best school year ever. I thought, oh my god, college is going to be wonderful. They give food. It’s nine o’clock. She’s giving out apples. I ate mine, and five minutes later, she said, write a poem about the apple, and I said, I ate mine. Can I get another one? She said, No, you’re not following instructions. I didn’t even I didn’t tell you what to do when you chose. You’re the only person. And so in turn, I had went through a series of versions of this poetry and of this poem. And finally, she said, You’re not taking the class series. I’m going to drop your grade a letter. You have one last shot at it. And out of my haste and disdain and frustration with her, because I blamed her for not giving me a second apple, she forced me to use my imagination, and I wrote my first poem. Poem, and that poem is more of a pattern. Poem is for folks who would be K through fourth grade. You would read it with them, walk them through an exercise of using the senses and and sensory and all of that, you know, all five senses throughout the piece to tell the story of this apple. And it was then she sat me down and she told me, you’re a poet, and if I would have known that, I would have approached this differently. I’m not sure if anyone has ever told you you are a poet. Never stop writing, whether you take another creative writing class or not, never stop writing. And it was then. And so to this, to today, to date, I I use that poem with little people. I inspire them. When I’m invited into, you know, classes to chat with second and third graders. We’ll look at the poem and all the forms and techniques and rhyme and rhythm and repetition and all of those things. And it’s just I never imagined from 19 years old that I would still use that poem today.
David: Isn’t that like the apple, especially as a metaphor, right? For like you said, it’s like, there’s something Biblical about that, right? Like you dared to eat the apple, the knowledge and the and you were chastised for it, but then that’s just big. That’s cool. I don’t think I’ve ever to be honest.
Sierra: Yes, and so, you know, from there I went on to college and my degrees, you know, in criminal justice and and working in juvenile justice and things like that, initially, and it was in graduate school where I realized all of my years of journaling was a form of ethnographic research, a field study. You know, it was a way to approach certain subject matters. And so for me, that work, it took me down the path of really leaning into the qualitative aspects of creativity and expression, and that’s how I started to be commissioned for work because I loved to research and understand companies and organizations, and I was willing to put in that 456, months of being with an organization to write about them.
David: So how did what was the journey that brought you to Dayton, Ohio, where, you know, we’re here today in Dayton. And then how do you feel, sort of Dayton has, has supported or been a part of your journey?
Sierra: I came to Dayton by way of my partner, Robert, he we were, we were kind of coming up doing the degree inflation. Remember when you had to have a degree to do everything? Oh, yeah, you had to have a degree. I mean, it even got so, gotten so ridiculous. You had a degree, needed a degree, like in the East Coast area to work at McDonald’s. It was insane, you know, some form of higher education. And so at that time, he wanted to finish his degree at his alma mater, Central State University. And so I walked away from my career as a forensic counselor for the Sheriff of Lucas County, and I still was writing poetry. I had a full poetry life, and it had to be approved, of course, by the sheriff, but I had that world and that life, but I was young and married, and he said he wants to come to he would like to come to Dayton to finish his degree. And I said the only way I would go is if I could attend an institution that could support me, because I’m severely dyslexic, and being severely dyslexic, I knew I couldn’t get a degree beyond my bachelor’s. It was so hard and so difficult. And I did have some supports there at the University of Toledo. And so I found out right state had the fifth best Disability Services Program, and in the state, in the United States, they were top tier. And so having an invisible disability and being able to attend an institution and become a part of the sociology department, for me, it worked, because he could finish his undergrad degree, I could get a graduate degree in the study of human behavior, still write, still create, and then also get the support I needed, and so that is what, what brought me here. And when I got here, I fell in love with the history. I fell in love with the the creative space that that Dayton gives to every. Me at the time, I didn’t know it was the home of innovators. I didn’t know it was the home of ingenuity, of grit, of those who are willing to take a risk on something that they may not quite understand just yet, like, where are you going with this? Let’s see together. And that was something I didn’t. I had never seen that. I didn’t know that vibration and that energy, and it’s how I came here to get a degree. I saw there was a gap in the world of poetry. We went into a partnership with, at the time, the Victoria Theatre Association, and we produced three years in the Mathilde theater in the black box, and it was this urban creative expression and experience for poets, because all we had was to date in poetry slam world, where you were in coffee houses and bars, and we loved that community, and we still do today, and they’re still going strong, but the opportunity to create inside of a theater where you could transport folks into another world, and it was an awakening for me, and we created our award winning show, the signature a poetic medley show, and that’s what brought me here and and it began to keep me here. And when my children were born, I knew I didn’t want to leave. I worked for Wright State, for local Academy, and I did 25 to 30 hours a week, preparing and producing. We were so crazy. It was Sheila Ramsey that said, Why are you producing eight or nine shows a year? You’re crazy. She said, Why are you producing all of these shows? She said, You should get a plan, get us, get a subscription, produce four or five shows a year, and take the rest of the time to be creative and be a mother. And it was the best advice in the world, and that’s what we did. And I mean, my grandmother, she would say, what I what was at the root of everything I’ve ever created. We are Better Together. And my grandmother had four sets of twins. Wow, 22 children. I went to high school with 12 of my first cousins. And so when you look at that, I have 41st cousins, right? So when you look at that, you understand what Violet was saying, what she meant. And I tell people all the time my community work did not start when I came to Dayton. It was in college, but on the journey, I’ve come to understand I was negotiating. Who was going to get the popsicles? How many of us were going to walk to the park? What adults we needed to go somewhere? How many cars would it take for us to travel to Cedar Point? Yeah, I was doing this work as a nine-year-old. So I was doing community work my entire life, and so it’s so natural, because I grew up in a community, yeah, and so it it doesn’t feel hard, it’s not a heavy lift, it’s not difficult, it’s just what you do if you’re a part of something.
Evelyn: Oh my goodness. I love that so much. That’s amazing. And you love Dayton. Dayton loves you. Right back, you were named Dayton’s first Poet Laureate in 2025. Tell us about this honor. What does it mean to you to represent, you know, the city that you love in this way and by the same hand, like, why does it important for Dayton to have a poet laureate?
Sierra: Yeah, you know, shout out to Mayor Mims, the mayor’s office, to Culture Works, Lisa Diane, the committee and team of folks who thought this was important to—Darius, who, as well, worked on this project with them, who thought it was important, who put it forth for us to have this opportunity. I think every community needs an ambassador. You need an ambassador, but you also need a person who’s willing to lift up and amplify but also confront the things that are not working, and do it in a way where, you know, as a poet, our goal is always to trim off as much fat as possible. So we want to get right to the heart of it. And I think the voice of the poet in speaking to the issues of their times is just what you do and it’s needed. And so the honor is all mine. You know, my goal as the poet laureate is to strengthen and restore the connections between poetry community and to use it as a medium to collaborate, which is something I’ve been doing for a very long time. You know, now I’ll get to focus on the literacy. And how do we do place-based engagement? You know, in a city with 60 neighborhoods, you know what I mean? You we need plenty of us. I’m not the only one, and so being a person who understands that you can’t do the work alone, and you must work with other poets, other community members, other mediums to achieve that goal, I think is what really was supportive and really eye opening for the committee is that not only am I willing to do the work as a poet, I’m also willing to bring others along with me and shine a light on those who may be working in visual arts, and finding a way to connect that to those who may be working in photography or those who are in theater. Or how do we take and it may be a it may be just like NATO came, and we brought poets from every single age, you know, demographic, to participate in a collective peace poem. So whatever is needed in that regard. And and I think for me, no one can ever be Dunbar. You and so that’s what I hear. Is just honoring him walk, knowing that he is walking with me and every other poet, recognizing that being named Dayton’s first poet laureate does not mean we should forget folks like Dr Herbert Martin, who was the poet laureate through the University of Dayton and known as Dayton’s poet laureate, right for many years, but it didn’t Go through the democratic process to be on record in that way. But I think the stewardship for me is to remember Dr Herbert Martin’s contributions, to remember Dunbar and also to always acknowledge the nameless, those poets where we have no record. There were many poets along the way, but we did not do the work to an established to establish a record like they have in visual arts, in dance and architecture, in flight and ingenuity around innovation, when it comes to entrepreneurship, all of these other ecosystems, they have a footprint, but poets have been truly Dayton starving Artists, but the buck stops here, baby.
David: You had mentioned that you have dyslexia, yeah, do you think so that’s, you know, something that I think you would describe, most would describe as a challenge, right? It’s, it’s gonna create difficulties in processing, learning, etc. But has, has that been something you’ve converted into called an opportunity or a strength? Right where it seems to me, I’m not dyslexic, but from what I know about it, you would have to spend more time with words. You would have to spend more time focused and thinking about the meaning of things and and really internalizing those things, as opposed to being able to just skim through fast right, and and just write hastily. That seems to me, if you’re a poet, to be an invaluable skill, right, to be able to think deeply about those word choices and the meaning of them is that something that’s informed your writing and like, is that accurate? It converted into a strength
Sierra: It converted into a strength, it did over time. You know, I recall being a child and my mother would do simple things, like, I doubt every number incorrectly the first time. So when I would go places, she would give me two quarters, and I didn’t know why, yeah, you know, it was little things like that. And it wasn’t until I got to college and they were able to test to see, you know, why am I reading things over and over and over again? I could read just fine, but the comprehension, taking it in processing, it was so difficult. And so once I was fully diagnosed, I was able to realize what I truly needed. I’m severely auditory. Severely I need to I have to hear everything. So every book at Wright State, no matter. If it was statistics or juvenile justice or Penology, whatever the subject matter, it was on audio for me, and all I requested was more time for the information to come forward, yeah, because that’s what happens when you have particular types of disabilities, like I would notice the information for a theory exam on Durkheim. But that doesn’t mean I had access to it until I calmed down, until I could relax. And so I may be in a testing center where it was I was supposed to be there an hour and a half, and I may be there four hours because I’ve drawn, written a couple poems, and then, like, Oh, there’s the answer. Nobody would have write it. So they would give me extra time, and they would put everything on audio. And my computer talks to me, because in my form of dyslexia, I miss words, so I read words that are not there. So everything has to talk and speak back to me so I can hear actually what I’m doing. And so over time, it became an asset when I could move from saying I’m dyslexic to I learn differently when I could shift it. And so that happened when I was invited to a disabilities conference and I was, I didn’t want to go, and I was commissioned to write a poem, a beautiful poem for dis, for being dyslexic, and they wanted me to perform it. It was at the time where I felt in the closet, no one knew that I was dyslexic, and my husband was saying, You’re you’re wrong for this, for not you graduated with a 4.0 from college, and there are young people who are paralyzed by their dyslexia. You need to show them, no matter how scared you are that the world will know you’re a writer and you’re dyslexic, and how hard that is for you, you have to get over yourself. And it was at this conference of a woman paralyzed from the neck down, she comes up to me, and she’s like, you’re gonna read this poem this morning. And she’s talking away, and she turns and she says, You’re gonna face your fears. Face your fears. Sierra, and I’m like a human being with a physical disability, neck down, yeah, it’s telling me to stop, get out of your mind, show up for us. And she said, I’m so inspired by you. And it was in that moment that I became a part of the disabilities community because I thought my disability didn’t count. It’s invisible. This is my problem. It’s no one else’s problem. You know, I’ll deal with it. I work through it. I work extra hard. And it was then when I realized I was a part of something bigger than myself, and it was my spiritual teacher, Reverend Pam Bryant, who helped me to see because she was an educator, dyslexia simply means you learn differently, leave it at that and get to work. So it has influenced it has been a superpower for me. I was able to research there are so many amazing, talented actors, actresses, poets, creative creatives, musicians, who are dyslexic, and it does help in the creative process.
Evelyn: Wow. You think about creative process, I always wonder about creative folks’ daily routines and and how do you protect your creativity? I don’t know if you could walk us through like, is there a routine or habits around your creativity?
Sierra: Yes, I think there’s a difference between the creative process and the creative practice, right for me. So in the process, I’m always looking at the topic or the theme. I’m always centered in. Am I looking at the history of what’s the context where, what do you want to achieve? What is your question for an organization? For myself, what are my research interests? Many of them, for many years, have been centered in culture. So my editor is Gwen Mitchell, amazing editor, retired from Third World Press and always helping to support me in that and and that’s a part of my practice. And how am I being curious, and what does the world need right now? And so in my practice, I’m always in a process of poetic inquiry for myself. And I sometimes I wish I could get out of the way of that inquiry and just write. And so, you know, and so you can, you can get stuck there. So if there is a young person listening, do this after you write. Poem in the creative process, it’s always the same for me. My creative process is always centered. I do believe I am a child of God. I’m always centered in that that my process and I’m protecting it every morning, or you’re creating space for yourself one to practice some form of breath work. Two, to write something. And it can be a longer walk. For me, it can be right out the shower. It can be any moment you’re looking and writing, you have notepads and books everywhere you’re on a voice recorder. But the practice, if it’s something I’m creating for an organization, then that practice that becomes a part of my process, where I’m adding that so I’m finding a way to pour into me before I attempt to pour into anyone else. And I do that by preparing, by processing and thinking, I don’t read the paper first, I don’t pick up my phone first, I find a way before my feet hit the ground to like myself, before I go on to like something else, as Lisa Nichols once said, and so in that work, it’s helpful. And I read other poets. I read their work. I spend time one being present as a mother, as a wife and and as a human being. You know, a black person in America, there are some things. And I also in my in my protection of my process. Tracy Stanley, she does this work called Yoga Nidra. And so yoga nidra because my sorority sister, Jennifer Turpin, she’s a yoga or, I’m sorry, Exercise Scientist, that’s interesting. But I didn’t like yoga, and I could never get into it. But I would teach the poetry and yoga class, but I never did the yoga
David: Somebody else had the yoga part.
Sierra: See, we’re on the same page. And the folks participating wanted to know why didn’t I ever do yoga? And I didn’t want to tell them I don’t like it and or care for it as much. And as she and she put me on to yoga, Nidra, which was a part of it, was this meditative practice of where you lay down and rest. And that was something that could really benefit me as being the person that I am, rest and being and also honoring those who have come before. I think my parents, my grandparents, my father’s from Baton Rouge, Louisiana. Lives there to today, to date. And my mom is in, you know, the Toledo, Michigan area. And you know, lifting them up, lifting up folks who are not even here anymore. You know, really just learning to rest, learning to reflect. So when you step into the world, it’s not as hard, because if we just watch the news, you would attack every person you see. You would not get what is for you, because you’re not centered at all. And so that’s what I attempt to do in in my in my practice, in my process.
Evelyn: That’s very powerful, the stillness to start your day with stillness and reflection.
Sierra: It is, I think it is. And if we could do more of that, it just wouldn’t be so hard. You know, if we could do any type of self inquiry, it could really shift the way folks are experiencing the world. And I’m talking about adults, not children who are need, not children who do not have support, not folks who challenges are compounded upon problem, upon challenge, upon difficulty, upon system, upon process that is separating them from being whole. I’m talking about adults who wake up every day in peace. You should take a moment to reflect before you start and engage with others.
David: Yeah, the world is, I mean, every day more so focused on faster, more, you know, bigger, run harder, and sometimes it’s just to stop and say you’re enough, right? And just to take that breath and appreciate it’s not about the next thing and the next thing and the next thing. It’s just about Heather, right? And just finding that comfort in who you are and where you are before you take off to the running to the next,
Sierra: Yeah, because they have us believing right now that we all should be performative. Because I’m not performative does not mean I’m unprofessional, right? I don’t have to have everything in a format where I’m giving someone on an Instagram. Or a Facebook post, some sort of knowledge, you literally can can be human and be whole, and it does not mean you’re not wearing your tacit knowledge on your forehead, or you’re not wearing I’m a professional. You does not have to constantly be in this particular way, we’re missing the mark, and we’re missing the moment to really prepare the next generation, because that’s what it’s all about. Your work here, our work in the community, my work as a poet, as a citizen, we’re looking to prepare who’s next. And every time I’m engaging with a child, I’m thinking about this child could be someone supporting me when I can no longer support myself, you don’t know who’s going to be there for you later in life, and I think that matters. And having a mother that’s a wound care nurse, she’s helped us to see that, and she’s told us over and over again, I don’t heal and help and support my patients. For me, I bless them in hopes that someone will be a blessing for my children. So she was the first person that showed me how to pay a blessing forward.
David: Well, you are also the artist in residence for the Charles F. Kettering Foundation, and you’re writing a play featuring the voices of Daytonians for the Belonging Project. Can you tell us a little more about the project, how it came together, and what you hope it’s going to spark?
Sierra: Yes, as the inaugural artist in residence for the Charles F Kettering Foundation, one Joni Daugherty and in her area of democracy and the arts, and working with Sharon Davies and the entire team over there has been absolutely priceless to see an organization 40 years of global research and impacting the world through research and then to come front facing to and for the community. I know that that’s not easy to shift in that way, and in my role, I’ve returned some back to graduate school, right this, you know, I thought initially, the only way to do that work was through taking a position as an instructor, an adjunct instructor, growing into, you know, some sort of professor or educator in that way in higher education. But at the foundation, the role has allowed me to do research and also engage in my art. And I that’s that’s new, that’s new for me, and it’s very exciting. And so with the play The belonging project. Joni really wanted to create a piece where we heard, you know, more, more of a verbatim theater where you hear directly from community, and you find a way to tell their stories through, through sort of the practice of what it means to be a citizen, what it means to be a part of participatory theater and so belonging. We had listening sessions, we met with, I think, 10 to 15 groups of people, and we listened and we asked questions, and they told very personal stories. Some of those folks even actually participated in the performances Emily over at the human race, and their team was wonderful, Emily and Tiffany, they helped, you know, and Emily was the director on it. Tiffany helped with some of the listening, many of the listening sessions, actually. And from there, I was able to look at the transcripts shape a piece we did right now, it’s in a state of vignettes and a read. We did two readings of it, one at the Playhouse, I think, or and then also over at the Human Race. And so that piece and project is still underway. It’s still growing, but where it is right now, we couldn’t be happier, because what we wanted was to was to really help the community to voice what they were thinking, because people are scared to talk. They don’t want to say what they feel and think. And a project like the belonging project, you can’t sit silently because you may not agree with some of what I’ve written you. Yeah. And if you’re talking, whether you like it or not, as an artist, I’ve done my job. I know what I’m supposed to do, yeah, exactly, whether you’re happy or not, you’re talking, you’re communicating, you’re sharing your PA, your thoughts and opinions and the way you see the world, and that is what democracy is. How are we choosing to live together? That’s what it is. And so for advancing inclusive democracy, advocating for inclusive democracy, and finding ways and avenues to do that. I can’t wait to see what the play is going to, the final stage of it will be and where it can be performed. But right now, in the state it’s in, several people would like to see it just move about community and across across our state, because conversations need to be had absolutely, whether you like them or not, whether you’re happy with a person’s point of view or perspective, we need to hear them. The silence is destroying us,
Evelyn: And to have an avenue for listening is powerful too. Oh, that’s and theater is such a unique and expressive way to bring those stories to life. So I always wanted to bring up this question, because it’s super fascinating to me. I missed the first readings, but I am excited to see where it goes.
Sierra: Yes, and they have a couple of recordings, and I’m excited to see where this piece is going to go as well. I dive back into researching and finalizing it. I have all of the transcripts for it. I spent about a week in Cleveland in a little hotel near Case Western, just with the audio and the transcripts and in a hotel room going over and over and over, the work again to see how can we shape and tell these individual stories and people felt touched. One woman actually said this list, this process of watching the belonging process, Belonging Project and creating a space for community to talk to one another. It helped me to see how much I do not listen. And she was a serious listener, like, I mean, like her work is in this she just, she said, I don’t listen. I pick up on what’s gonna work for me. And it did help me to see that. And I thought that was a powerful comment, powerful but there were people who made comments along the lines of, they didn’t see Dayton, they saw a broader, broader scope of the world. They wanted to see more of the neighborhoods and communities and and things along those lines. But, you know, they were talking, they were talking. We were communicating and we were listening.
Evelyn: You think of listening. I think of listening to the young people too. And I know you brought up some of your work with youth, but could you speak to that a little bit more, the different ways that you’ve engaged with youth and why that’s very special to you. I know one interaction I’ve witnessed is the Levitt summer camp, the arts summer camp and bringing out, giving young people a platform and the skills and the encouragement to use their voice that like blew my mind.
Sierra: Yes, we can’t thank Lisa, Phil and the team over Abby and Madeline, we that that team over at the Levitt that’s a powerful group of human beings. Lisa, yes. Hi, Lisa. Lisa and I go way back to when she was over at the Vic and all of that good stuff, but, but you know the work over at with the summer camp. It was a camp idea of my partner, Robert, and it was his baby of, how can you bring a camp on, how can we support young people during the pandemic? They were really left out of the story in Dayton. We were trying to work through many things here, and so we thought we would bring the summer camp online to support them, bring them together, give them an opportunity, give artists an opportunity. And it was open air outside day camp. And five years later, it is still going strong. We had, and we just wrapped on the fifth year of the camp. And boy, do we have some amazing aspiring young artists in Dayton. The musicians this year were, they made music I think we would listen to. On the radio, the poets and the percussionists, the artists that worked with them, Kyleen, Chris Barb, she flew in. We had an artist that flew in from LA. That work for Robert and I is very important, because I when I thought about this, and I know I may be a little long winded here, but I wonder, why do I care so much? And it dawn on me that throughout college, I worked in a juvenile treatment facility, and it left an indelible impression on my life. I worked there, so I learned the difference in my early 20s between punishment and treatment, correction and rehabilitation and and I didn’t realize how much of it was influencing my choices. To date, that I would be at this treatment facility, children a detention center, children misbehaving challenges. And one day, the director pulled me to the side, and she said, on Sunday nights, you come here and you have root beer floats and the children read poetry. And I said, Yes. And she said, I just had a child who’s been misbehaving for six months come in my office and tell me there was no way he could get involved in the fight that was going on because we have poetry and root beer floats. And she said, all of the money we’ve paid, we’re paying to therapists, all of the treatment we’re providing for these children, and this kid is telling me that he could not participate in this behavior because he’s going to miss out on root beer floats and reading a poem that he wrote. What is this? Will you come work here? And they offered me a full time job, wow. And so for three or four years, my husband would host chess tournaments, and when I was an undergrad, they would study the impact the children who participated in the chess tournaments. They never went back to juvenile detention. He taught them how to move differently in life through chess. And then the children who were on my unit, they began to express themselves, the pain, maybe, if they had, you know, horrible things happen to them as children, they found ways to express that. And she said, I never imagined a root beer float beating out years of therapy. I mean, she could not wrap her mind around it, and they would just behave. They wanted to express themselves that much. And this morning, when I thought of, why do you care? I realized everything I do for youth, it goes back to those root beer floats and Sunday 6 pm poetry open mics at St Anthony Villa treatment facility in Toledo, Ohio.
David: Wow, that’s great. So well, even before you were named Poet Laureate, your words were sort of living and breathing all around Dayton. So, is there a project and you worked on many, but is there one that really sticks out in your mind as just that was something really special or magical?
Sierra: Yeah, I would say before a project being the Ohio Arts Council with Donna Collins and that crew, acknowledging that the work we did as poets, as urban poets, as spoken word poets, as folk poets and creatives that being celebrated, it shifted something in me, and the commission work started with me just wanting to honor the library because I grew up in a library, and the library was my world. My mother worked, and I went to the library every single day, and so I was asked to write about it. And then Diane Farrell, you know, said, I think we should make this piece permanent. And it was there that really started the journey of my commission work. But the piece that. Yeah, we all know, if none of my work is ever spoken of in 100 years, it will be remember the seed. It will be the Seed of Life. We all know that, because the work to honor people who were murdered in a mass shooting was the most difficult thing in the world for me to do.
You know, I cry that work. It makes you deal with your own issues, of what I hadn’t dealt with, with the people who had died in my life because the shooting happened, we went in. We weren’t went into the pandemic, yeah. Then we all lost so many people,
David: and the tornado before this,
Sierra: Yes, and so I’m now at a dealing with the loss of all of these folks, the pain of those who survive and don’t feel acknowledged, the community who’s left broken and divided. Those who are you know, are medical police, everyone who was a part of that still hurting today for who they couldn’t save, for who they save, who has permanent injuries. And so to excavate that and to write this piece four years later, five years later, that was hard, and I had to face myself in all of the hurt, because what did we do? We pushed that down. When we survived that pandemic, we all lost folks far away, close, whoever pushed it down, along with losing relatives to violence and all sorts of things in my situation. And so I remember one day crying so hard. I cried for four straight hours that I finally watered the ground of my soul enough. It was so dry and so brittle that I broke through and I could write this poem, that seed that I was planted inside of me, I had to face every part of my own loss and challenges to write Something that could live because Pablo Neruda said, you don’t I didn’t write. I had, I had iterations of the poem. Don’t get me wrong. I had many iterations, but I had to get to a poem that was for the living. I kept writing for the dead, and I had to write a poem that would support those who were here. And to do that was so hard, because I was so angry, and then to write about something that has not stopped. So I didn’t, it wasn’t, Oh, we had a war, and then the war ended, and you can write this poem. No, in the middle of writing the poem, more of this is going on. What do you serve to people? What do you give to people? How do you leave people? You know what. And so in turn, that for me, is a poem that I will have to continue to revisit. But working with James Pate, Terry, Wilker, Jess McMillan, the Downtowner partnership, Eva, everyone involved, just everyone involved in that project, it left an impression on me. It changed me. It really did. And I, I don’t think I would ever do another Memorial piece in that way again, they got all of me on that one, the best of me for the families. And I’ll give you one short story, one of the mothers, her daughter with the daughter who had a three month old baby, she’s now older, and she said they were celebrating the mom, and they were at a birthday party for because they may days, I think. And she said, the daughter said to the grandmother, I want to, you know, I want to send these balloons up. She said, where are you? Where are you swinging to I think it was swinging, or I think she was swinging. She said, push me. Higher, higher, higher. She kept telling her to Push me higher and higher. And she said, Where are you trying to swing to? It wasn’t balloons. She said, I’m trying to swing up to heaven to say hi to my mom.
Evelyn: And how do you put those complicated emotions in into your piece?
Sierra: Yes, how do you tell the story of all of these different human beings in their lives and where they are, and how do you collectively pull them together? Because the poetry is painting a picture of a moment, but that was so much more than just a moment. And so as we rebuild and our consciousness, because it’s in folks, it’s in their minds. Now the district is, you know, thriving the best that they can and doing the work. But what a resilient community. Our first community, it was so, you know, the Oregon, just the very first community in Dayton. And so it was an honor, and I’m so glad to have been included and commissioned to do that work.
Evelyn: It is remarkable. And there is one question that we ask all of all our guests, you know, you talk about legacy and what you have given so much this community. Could you answer in so many words. What’s the future that you want to create?
Sierra: You know, I really wish there was a wish for a future where the attachment to nostalgia, right, we are so attached to it. Folks want to go back and back to the past it. I would I wish for a future where that attachment to nostalgia does not boon. Dako, you know, the success of attachment to the past and to a point where it’s wasteful, to a point where it’s it’s useless, it doesn’t support us in moving forward. I think we we get to honor the past, but we’re almost trapped in it right now. And there’s nothing wrong with living a great democratic idea, because I feel like those who believe in democracy, you may not know it or not, but they are the folks with the, I think, the largest imaginations, because we’re imagining constantly What this world can be and what’s possible, but our fascination with being stuck in what we’ve already lived, it’s destroying us. And so for the future, I’m looking for a balance. Inside the urban core and the suburbs and the rural spaces being an extension of that, like a balance in those ecosystems, you can have a great life in the rural areas, just as you can in the city, you don’t have to give to one and then have a food desert in the other. You don’t have to give all the tax money where it supports certain regions and groups of people and then other folks are starving. We have to find a better balance. And it’s not all about you violence, you violence. You know that is real. And children dying me as a African American or a black person here, that’s very real. But there’s folks who are waking up every day, and that’s not a part of their reality. And they live right here in this community. There’s less than 200,000 people in this area, and they’re waking up. So how is it that they can wake up, whoever they are, in peace and then the next group of folks cannot. So I see a future where we’re not scared to talk about the parts we don’t like to talk about. We don’t have to be a footprint of what they’re doing nationally. If we’re the home of innovation, innovators, if we’re the home of ingenuity, if we’re the folks with grit, even though I was just in North Carolina and they said they were first in flight, I didn’t like that.
David: We all got that in common.
Sierra: I was arguing with the with the person at the hotel that’s. Huh, but if we’re all these things, I think that’s why so much pressure to solve problems. If you can create flight, the cash register, the bike, Jesus, notebook paper,
David: Yeah, Funk.
Sierra: If you can create Funk, you can solve these problems, amen, even if it’s just for our community, and be that footprint and blueprint that we have been for many years. And so the dilapidation, the blightedness, in many ways, the moving of larger institutions, have hurt us, but there is a way, because in Dayton, there is will, and that is the future that I see. And kudos to everyone that’s contributing in doing the work, including the Ohlmann Group.
David: Well, thank you. That goes for you. Well, that was beautiful, and I can’t wait to see that future come to life, could we? So usually that’s our last question, but we bent the rules today. We were wondering if you would be willing to close out this episode of Creating the Future with one of your poems.
Sierra: Oh, yes, indeed. You know, let me be clear. I know I’m in the home of Dunbar, so I always bring one of his pieces. But Lucille Clifton shares a birthday with Paul Laurence Dunbar, yes, indeed she does. She’s out of Maryland. She’s, you know, an ancestor now. And also with my son, Nesta and I brought one of his poems, so I’ll share this poem:
And the epigraph here is: Every pair of eyes facing you has probably experienced something that you could not endure. Lucille Clifton. And this piece is entitled, blessing the boats.
may the tide
that is entering even now
the lip of our understanding
carry you out
beyond the face of fear
may you kiss
the wind then turn from it
certain that it will
love your back may you
open your eyes to water
water waving forever
and may you in your innocence
sail through this to that
Lucille Clifton.
Oh, I love that poem, and I’ll read this piece in honor of our libraries. I haven’t read it in a long, long time. We know some of our public facing entities are really struggling with the way things are unfolding. And you know the library is, it really is the staple to determine that you’re in a community. It is the very core symbol of what it means to be in a community. It’s at the heart. It’s infant structure for all of us, just as well as for 60 years, we all have. We all share, no matter our walk of life, we all have a big bird story, you know, we all have some, you know, story from PBS, some program for me recently, it’s a spiritual journey through tank and a whole series on heritage and culture and southern culture and those sorts of things, but I want to read this piece for our libraries. It’s called The Gathering Space. We as a community, are lifting you up, for the Dayton Metro Library.
Architecture is music, symmetry, standing still. Architecture is imaginations renewed, rising to the occasion, synchronized migration, reshaped energy, embodying the multiplicity of community. Welcome to the library this sacred public domain, healing hues of mint greens and royal blue color and the glory told story of fable, inheritance, sovereign ground, descendants of descendants fill one city block, mending Dayton’s great east and west divide, the eminence of the birthplace of aviation, bruised wings stand and shelved unison with Gem City Buffalo Soldiers, a legacy of complex parity etched through a prism of Christ. Cross generational diversity, cataloging fortified dreams, witnessed a witness, witnessing to a witness. Vulnerability, clothed in a scholar’s garb, the next lifetime in the distance, destination, the gathering space where brilliance roams, wanders and exhales freely to decipher histories, to uncover unsung champions, something compels us to come to picture freedom. Sitting at dusk, we are planted autonomy upward spring, the circadian heartbeat of humanity. Genres of animated inspiration, pulsating vigor with every page, lives are changed, worlds are realized. Welcome to the library.
David: Thank you. That’s fantastic. Well, thank you, Sierra for gathering here today with us and sharing your beautiful thoughts and poetry.
Sierra: Oh, it is such a joy and honor. We love the Gem City. Thank you for all that you’re doing to ensure that voices are illuminated and amplified, and I think a marker in the archives. And so thank you both. Thank you. Thank you and to the team.
