Author: J.Mar

I was born and raised in Kern County in an unincorporated area of Kern, CA. My parents moved there in the 90s to make a living as farm workers. Watching them barter their bodies, homelands, and family for a chance at the “American Dream” has caused me to reflect. My writing here is largely the unceremonious unpacking and repacking of what was won and lost in this exchange. My version of the dream consists of completing a PhD in Public Policy. I currently study public finance, public participation, and remittances in Mexico. I am also generally interested in the Latinx public finance experience. I’ve learned to be cautiously optimistic about the future. Lastly, I love plants and cleaning is a freeing ritual to me.

Road Trip Cleanse

Let me have a road trip cleanse

A ritual where each event is imaginative

Stretches of road ahead with a goal of a destination creates a sanctuary from daily productive feats

The windows allow the airing of light and the observation of vast landscapes

Alike a metaphor that can describe the embarked journey at hand

Unrehearsed and choppy, leads to the treasure of hidden manifestations

People bound by one same destination

The blurring of trees left behind mimics the consistent click of a clock, the only reminder of when it’s time to stop

There is a lot of ground to cover, but this ritual can’t be rushed and is often left unfinished

These rides hardly have a process, but distinguishable cycles arise

Usually an unknown feeling powers the dynamic

A seamless shared floor can be considered a goal

We can evaluate how it’s going, but the lasting impact from one unto other will remain unknown

In space of these doors, short of everything goes

A laugh, a cry, be happy even if it ends in fight

Rules of small talk do not apply

Long spouts of silence are a form of communication that create moments deep reflection

Processing, processing, feelings don’t need organizing

Who knows what passionate saunas these stretches of tree lines and city centers have given sanctuary to

Soon you leave, but the moments of the trip become stored, maybe even a start of a fond memory

J.Mar