Renee Baker: Everything Influences Everything

By Nancy Ibarra Medrano

This week, the Exploring Creativity in the Arts class had guest speaker, Renee Baker come in to share her story as a renowned composer creating a platform for women and people of color in the world of fine arts.

Continue reading “Renee Baker: Everything Influences Everything”


Written By: Quintionna Parks

My poem is not quite a poem, it is more like a vision of my daydream.

My engine awakens. It’s just before dawn. The streets are still asleep. I’m a small SUV gliding down the road. Now, just hours later , the summer air holds a slight breeze. The year is 1993. I’m wearing bright blue pajama shorts with an all white tank top.I would stay in my pjs all day if I could. I stand in the kitchen, my favorite spot in the house. I look out the small window onto the yard of gorgeous flowers. Even though it’s summer I imagine myself in the Artic Ocean. Secluded. Cold. The thought makes me bundle up in my bed. I sit and imagine the day all over again.

Shape Shifter

A short poem about all the things I might become- 1/28/19

Tesla Model X

If I could be all I wanted to be let’s sit and think of possibilities.

I might to choose to be wealthy or choose to be free.

Subjective definitions might change for me.

If I was a car I’d be a Tesla cruising down the street, Matte black dark tint to make it hard to see.

Golden hour time of day, warm & bright.

Perfect for a picture or a stroll at night.

Weather like a hot day with a cool nice breeze.

Iconic like early 2000s history.

A big theatre room showing a movie.

Cozy like a hoodie, I’m laid back and chill.

Open like the ocean, I might tell my life at will.

-Alysia Glover

Poem Post 2/4

If I were a mode of transportation, I would be a small but sturdy boat sailing calmly through waters unknown.

If I were a time of day, I would be the evening in between a bad morning and a great night.

If I were a room, I would be a bedroom; a sanctuary and the only place where people are their true selves.

If I were a form of weather, I would be the sunniest of days.

If I were a time in history, I would be alive on a day where Zora Neale Hurston would be alive to teach me.

If I were an item of clothing, I would be a dress – giving confidence and comfort.

If I were a body of water, I would be the Atlantic.



The dawn is hidden from many,

From those held in the clutches of sleep.

The horse is wild and free,

Too fast and mighty for any to take.

Yet, sometimes, when the dawn shines its golden light upon the eyes,

Or when the horse, instead of running, approaches,

When the right one appears,

One may see the dawn.

One may ride the horse.

One may know the secrets.


Poem “About Me”

By Lesly Marroquin

[Image provided by Unsplash]

In the dusty room she sits, looking through abandoned books

A dog peacefully sits at her feet, dreaming of chasing something in a magical world

Children outside are shouting in delight, riding around together on a red bicycle

She continues to flip through the stories, looking for something

Dust dances on the beams of the setting sun and a gentle cool breeze sneaks in through the window

The cheers die down in the distance, they are probably heading to the creek one last time

The sky is painted in an orange pink glow, a reward after a long summer’s day

She stops to smile at a book, the cover filled with her childhood fantasies

As she steps out of the room, she forgets a single ring tucked on top of a stack of books

The golden glow soon fade in dark and the day is done


The voice spoke on very deep subjects. Poetry filled with hatred and confusion. Speaking of neglect and denial from a mother. Growing up hating your mother, your creator, because of the way you were brought up. The performance started with the poet playing his guitar. Drawing the audience into a piece that I personally really wasn’t expecting. A person feeling suicidal because the lack of love received from their parent.

There was more than one poem, but they mostly consisted of the same subject. Blaming the world for how life works. Despising your mother for bringing you into the world. The readers emotions were at rage. The poem emphasized the emotion. Everyone has disagreements with their parents once in a while, but personally I could not relate. I love my mother through the good and the bad. Respect should always be a part of a relationship.