Author Archives: Marissa Luca

A Flag in the Wind: Veterans’ Day Ceremony, 2016

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On November 11, 2016, I attended the ceremonies held here at Stockton to honor our veterans and their service. I had entered the Warrior Champions essay contest—we had watched a documentary during Welcome Week about a small group’s journey to the Paralympics, which the contest was based on—and had been chosen as one of the top seven finalists. I did not know what to expect, really, as this is my first year at Stockton and I’ve never been to a ceremony particularly to honor veterans.

First, speeches were given on the steps to the school, where individuals of distinction discussed what lengths Stockton has gone or veterans, and the many lengths that veterans have gone for the freedom of our nation and its citizens. Afterwards, we walked to Veterans Park, where we listened to a stunning rendition of Taps by a student of ours, Brielle Lord. Following this, as well as some more remarks, we went to the Campus Center and were treated to lunch. It was there that the winners of the contest were announced. I tied for second with a fellow student, much to my joy and surprise. We were free to leave after winners were announced, or we had the option to stay and mingle. Overall, this event was one of peaceful solemnity; there was a note of gratefulness in the air that only comes when people think for a time about the sacrifices others willingly make. I think that it’s important that we have some sort of event honoring our veterans; it’s important to remember who exactly has to fight the battles that we may detest, who has to carry that weight and keep that flag standing, flying in the wind.

Branches on the Family Tree: A Review of Gregory Pardlo’s Poetry Reading

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On October 10, 2016, I attended a poetry reading by Gregory Pardlo. The event was part of the Visiting Writers Series, and was sponsored by the Murphy Writing Program here at Stockton. I was not sure what to expect, as I am relatively unfamiliar with his work and how readings at Stockton are conducted. The event was not one of massive fanfare or elaborate introductions; quite simply, Mr. Pardlo read a small collection of poems from one of his books, making humorous comments and inside jokes that only people from South Jersey would understand in between each poem. Noteworthy pieces included, Attachment: Atlantic City Pimp; Philadelphia, Negro; and Raisins. After reading several poems, Mr. Pardlo opened the floor to questions, and patiently answered all inquiries before bidding us farewell.

Mr. Pardlo’s work, like the man himself, seems unassuming at first. Upon walking into the room, I actually believed him to be part of the audience. Somewhat soft-spoken, I briefly believed that his words would not have an impact on me. I was wrong, of course, as they slowly snuck up on me and found a place somewhere in my chest, just north of my heart. Mr. Pardlo clearly feels most at home writing about just that: home. His family often lies at the heart of his most inspiring pieces, such as Attachment: Atlantic City Pimp, which recounts an email Mr. Pardlo received from an aunt of his with an image of a pimp she thought noteworthy in Atlantic City. From a technical standpoint, it is an excellent poem, using simile and descriptive details to paint a picture of figures Mr. Pardlo clearly holds near and dear, but it struck me on a much more personal level. I myself use my own family members as inspiration for my writing, and although I do not always portray them in the most positive light (as Mr. Pardlo seems lovingly critical of his aunt) I do describe them with the elegance and grace they deserve, as Mr. Pardlo does. Mr. Pardlo discusses how his aunt deems many different men as being less than worthy of her time and attention, but notes that “[this image]…was the one she found worth saving.” This hypocritical nature is explored, although subtly, in his descriptions of her, and we as readers are forced to examine our own families, and our own flaws, as well as our perceptions of these aforementioned flaws.

It was a privilege to hear Mr. Pardlo speak, and I highly recommend the Visiting Writers Series, as Mr. Pardlo’s poetry and writing–as well as any piece of noteworthy writing– scrutinizes the intricate layers of the people we love and ourselves, and encourages us to climb our own family tree, to find ourselves lost in the branches and examine the carvings we may find in the wood.

One Grain at a Time: Day of Service Review

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On September 10, 2016, the Fall Day of Service took place, one of the many community service days on campus. I signed up for it not quite knowing what exactly I was getting into, but I was pleasantly surprised. At the very beginning of the day, we chose teams. These teams would determine how we rotated through different activities; there were too many of us to count, so I only really became familiar with my own team.

The day consisted of several different activities, including the sewing and creation of pillows for patients at AtlantiCare, where I attempted to create a pillow that actually looked like a pillow (spoiler alert: I failed) as well as an activity where we answered different questions about the election and politics in small groups. We had previously decided how to preoccupy ourselves for a small duration of the day by deciding what we wanted to do from a list of different volunteer activities; I personally picked a session on Suicide Prevention and awareness, as it is a topic that is very near and dear to my heart. The session was quite general, but we all walked away secure in the knowledge that there was a place we could go to talk about our problems and people who cared; this session is actually what drove me to join Active Minds, a club on campus dedicated to mental health treatment and awareness.

The final activity that we partook in was an appropriate send off to the day; in groups of five, we worked together to put together bags of ready-to-make meals that people without access to food in other countries could easily make. It wasn’t necessarily a highbrow job, but there was something glorious about it, about old pop songs blasting on tinny speakers, about the way we methodically moved along, about the unification of so many different people just to do something good. As I mentioned earlier, I didn’t know what to expect when I signed up, and prior to this I had felt very isolated, new to campus. And perhaps I’m making something out of nothing, but this day really made me feel like I belonged, like I had a place in this world. My job, when we were making the food, was to scoop a sort of fiber into the bag, and this may be cheesy, but I felt like I was making a difference, one little grain at a time.