Brian Ascalon Roley is a professor and award-winning author of Philippine and American descent, and a recent National Endowment of the Arts Literature Fellow.
As caregivers and parents to a son who has had to interact routinely with doctors, nurses, and various therapists over the last 21 years, my wife and I find ourselves in tight physical spaces with these people as they prod, touch, examine, diagnose our vulnerable child. When they pull on his fingers to test his strength, we study their faces to discern what future they see for him. As they watch us lift him from his wheelchair and transfer him to the examination table, we wonder if they are wondering how we are at home with him, as caregivers, as parents.
Reading thorough the archives of Intima in search of a poem to write about in relation to my poem “Refugees” (Intima, Fall 2022), I found myself inhabiting the point of view of these providers, reliving common situations but from their side.
A poem that speaks to me is “It Was the Second Patient of the Day” by Cortney Davis (Intima, Fall 2018). Here, a nurse recounts treating patients, yet thinking of her loved ones.
It was the second patient of the day
whose arm reminded me of my daughter’s arm
and so I wanted to touch the firm flesh…
The poem moves along this way, the practitioner working closely with patients, restraining fleeting impulses to connect.
Lastly, a patient’s eyes reflecting her experience remind her of her grandson’s, and she wants to share her present experience with him. It’s a beautiful poem about absences, a yearning to transcend point of view and distance in order to connect by sharing.
My poem “Refugees” emerged from similar impulses.
Unfortunately, my family members live in distant cities. The separation really hits you when your loved ones are diagnosed with progressive diseases. So when my son was assigned a homework project in which he had to interview someone who’d overcome adversity, I suggested my father (recently diagnosed with pulmonary fibrosis) who’d overcome poverty. It was an excuse to connect them by video call. My son agreed, eager to hear more about Grandpa’s childhood, when he’d slept at the back of a tiny bar on a cot behind a curtain as grownups drank, gambled, and danced. But my father surprised him, and spoke about a childhood speech impediment instead. My son, who, like me, has had speech struggles of his own, leaned forward, and I felt their connection grow as if we were in a tight room, not a continent apart. I noticed that my father spoke easily, not coughing or circumnavigating certain words, not willing to give up this time in order to to share his experience with this boy, in order to make it last.
Brian Ascalon Roley is a professor and award-winning author of Philippine and American descent, and a recent National Endowment of the Arts Literature Fellow. He is Professor of English and Director of Creative Writing at Miami University. He has received additional fellowships, research appointments, and awards from the University of Cambridge, Cornell University, the Ohio Arts Council, the Association of Asian American Studies, the Djerassi Foundation, Ragdale, Hambidge, and the VCCA, among others. His books include American Son: A Novel (W.W. Norton; Christian Bourgeois Editeur), which was a Los Angeles Times Best Book, New York Times Notable Book, Kiriyama Pacific Rim Prize Finalist, and winner of the Association for Asian American Studies Prose Book Award. More info at brianroley.com.