Tag Archives: writing

Summer Solstice 2025

Morning star,

Crescent moon,

Blue-dark sky,

One bird song.

Jessan Dunn Otis (c)2025

Back Into Teaching Writing

The schedule for a new student as his writing tutor is on the calendar. I’m excited to begin working with this young man, collaborating to help him become a better, more self-assured writer.

My passion for writing and teaching was ignited as a returned undergraduate at the University of Rhode Island; encouraged to read, write, and explore the magic of words by a beloved teacher Professor Nancy Potter. For two semesters Nancy animated the writings of William Faulkner in ways that brought the Southern storytelling tradition to life – visceral, tangible, palpable. I was hooked.

After earning my MFA from the Graduate Writing Program at Brown University, I was certified to teach at the college level. Once four of my poems were published in four literary journals, that affirmation verified I’d made the correct choice to go into writing instead of law.

Fast forward a few years – my resume was in the right place at the right time and I began my teaching career at the Community College of Rhode Island (CCRI) and Bryant University (then Bryant College). Again, I was hooked.

I relished the challenge of inspiring undergraduates to become better, more committed and excited writers and thinkers. Seeing the lights in their eyes, that “Ah-ha moment” when something clicked and they got it. It was contagious. If they learned as much about writing as I learned about teaching I did my job.

As a long-time independent, freelance writer, collaborting with clients was, again, a teaching situation – asking questions, clarifying intentions, focusing in on desired audiences, creating strategic articles, press releases, and all. I still love the process of communicating and creating.

It’s a joy to come back into teaching the challenges, process, and rewards of writing with this young man. I hope he’s as excitied as I am. Time will tell.

Reach out if I can help you become a better writer. My calendar has openings – either face-to-face or virtual via Zoom or Skype.

#AskJessan

We’re in this together

No matter your politics, ethnicity, sexual orientation, religion, education, socio-economic status or any other apparent differentiations, remember this: we’re in this together.

We’re a global family consisting of many diverse members – sisters, brother, mothers, fathers, cousins, aunts, uncles. We all need shelter from a storm, food for our bellies, and safety from harm.

The more we understand each other, the more we accept and celebrate our differences, the more we embrace each other in our global family the more we can create peace.

Create peace.

We’re in this together.

“Be a voice not an echo.” #essay

“Be a voice not an echo.” is a quote attributed to Albert Einstein. There are, I believe, many ways to understand and intrepret this.

My take is this: consider as much of the circumstances of any given situation as you can – with what you agree and with what you disagree.

Once you’ve mulled that around for a time, come to your own conclusions.

Next, consider whether you need and/or want to react/give voice to the situation. Use your own words, not someone else’s dogma.

Choose your words carefully, as words are containers of belief and have power – either spoken and/or written.

Finally, stand up for what you’ve said/written. Take responsibility.

Be your own voice.

The Radical Act of Living

We come into this world squealing, discolored, taking our first in-suck of air, and announcing “I’m here!” All else follows.

No one knows what their life will be.

As time passes and birthdays come and go, we begin to think: “When I grow up I want to be ________.”

Still, we do not know what our life will be.

More time passes. We’re expected to make certain choices. Take certain classes/apprenticeships. Narrowing the focus of our life/living.

Ready!

Set!

Go!

Some make choices that become their entire working life. Others somewhat “wander” – heading this way and that. No judgement in this. Neither way is better or worse – simply different. Each path has its own rewards and pitfalls.

Thing is – we don’t live in a vacuum. Other lives and living swirl around us, often influencing our thinking, ways of living, choices about working, taking a partner or not, etc.

Often, there comes a time when the wider world has an immediate impact on our life. For me, that time has been looming for the past several years.

To say that the past decade has been one of exhaltation and devastation would be a gross understatement. “It was the best of times and the worst of times.”

At this moment, there are leaders who spew hate, division, fear, chaos, and unending destructive narcissitic Executive Orders. The rule of law is all but dissolved and the promise of Democracy is shattered and scattered to the four winds. Smarmy minions do the bidding of this leader, either because they kissed the ring or in fear of reprisal, sucking up to apparent power like a drug.

Some may say my thoughts are radical. Some may believe I’m stepping too far out in all this. Others may say the opposite.

I say I’ve stepped back and watched enormous change over decades. I know the pendulum swings and the pendulum swings again. At this moment, there’s an existential threat that the pendulum has detached from the time piece and that that piece is being smashed almost beyond repair.

I’m a natural-born citizen of the United States of America. I’m a person of a certain age. I’ve seen leaders I loved and admired and leaders for which I have much less affection and respect. However, if I don’t take responsibilty for my given rights and the rights of others; to stand up and, with respect, voice my concerns – who am I? What am I worth as a member of this community you and I call America?

Is there some risk, some jeopardy in this – perhaps. Many who came before me took risks, stood up, spoke out, were detained, unjustly prosecuted, imprisoned, beaten, and died trying.

I live and work in a state whose motto is HOPE. I have hope and faith that this country will survive the ongoing strategies of distractions, red herrings being tossed around willy-nilly, causing constituents and countries to somewhat stagger with vertigo. I trust that enough good folks will continue to get into good trouble, hold true to the intentions of our founders, and keep up the good fight.

The radical art of living requires risk takers, reasoned and empathetic leaders, conscientious and concerned citizens who join hands, hearts, and efforts to act, to be watchful, to be the change we wish to see in our world.

Thank you for reading this far.

J E T T Y

At moon high tide

I run off the end of the silvered dock

Phosphorous confounds inverted eyes

wanting to grasp something more

than air can offer

to sustain this body sinking

into black mollusk mud

and transparent jelly fish.

Jessan Dunn Otis (c) 1985

From the unpublished manuscript MIGRATIONS OF THE HEART

The Day – for ARO

The day the universe brought us into our life, together,

was some kind of miracle, saving us

unexpected, but not (perhaps) unbidden

When we meet someone for the first time

we’re strangers to each other

Strangers no more, forever.

Jessan Dunn Otis (c) 2023

One Bird

One bird sings its morning call,

waiting for a reply

The sun sneaks up, silent in the East, again

There were no shadows

I sit here #writing this to you.

@JessanDunnOtis (c) 2023 #Writer #poem #poetry #poet #RhodeIsland

I just wrote and posted this poem on Twitter.

Reconfiguring

Since May 21, 1996, I’ve marketed myself as an independent, freelance writer/editor, collaborating with some amazing clients. To them, as always and again, many thanks for trusting me.

It’s true, from time to time, I did my own work. Not enough, however.

After twenty-seven (27) years it’s time to reconfigure.

Going forward I’ll be focusing more on my work that has laid dormant or ignored too long.

This is my path. Not to walk it is unconscionable.

#DanceOn…

This Place Called Home

This place called home has shifted over the decades. Growing up the first several years, home was a Cape Cod-type bungalow, built just after WWII, in a suburb of New York City – commuting distance. The large tract of land behind our home was an old orchard farm. The barn still stood, slowly falling into disrepair. But, the apple trees! Oh, those acres of Granny Smith apple trees were magnificent!

Those trees had, obviously, been tended, pruned, and nurtured. The branches were smooth, easy to climb. The apples were tart/sweet, brilliant, sap green, and always in abundance. I used to climb those trees as the Granny Smiths ripened, perfuming the air with their plump greenness. The pruning created upward, smaller branches where some of the best fruit was.

Sitting among the apples, dangling my legs over smooth branches, crunching baby teeth into sun-warmed flesh that puckered my lips – was there anything better than that those days?