{"id":13787,"date":"2018-12-07T12:04:12","date_gmt":"2018-12-07T19:04:12","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/sites.coloradocollege.edu\/bulletin\/?p=13787"},"modified":"2018-12-07T14:22:55","modified_gmt":"2018-12-07T21:22:55","slug":"a-train-of-thought-across-america-three-alumnae-take-to-the-tracks","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/sites.coloradocollege.edu\/bulletin\/2018\/12\/a-train-of-thought-across-america-three-alumnae-take-to-the-tracks\/","title":{"rendered":"A Train of Thought Across America"},"content":{"rendered":"

Three alumnae take to the tracks<\/h2>\n

For many of us, there\u2019s something about the train. A slow-chugging, hard-grinding, metal web of living nostalgia, a train ride across America has the capacity to connect us to the deep and haunted contradictions of our history. The train travels through the blanket of time, weaving together the lore of immigrants, pioneers, native people, refugees, opportunity, prosperity, and tragedy. It is a reminder of a landscape changed by industrialism. It remains a stubborn statement on the imperfect American dream, rolling through our staggering landscapes that are often impoverished by disaster, corruption, and false narratives.<\/p>\n

There\u2019s been a lot of talk about meeting in the middle, of a nation in need of reconciliation. There\u2019s a desperate hope that disparate people will somehow learn to engage in meaningful dialogue. Sounds like a good time to hop on the train and talk to strangers, right?<\/p>\n

So that\u2019s exactly what we did. Over the course of two weeks, Siri Undlin \u201913<\/b> (aka Humbird, our troubadour), Kendall Rock \u201915<\/b> (our documentarian), and Amanda Flores \u201913<\/b> (our scribe) embarked on what we called the Rail Tale Train Tour, riding the rails from Portland, Maine, to Portland, Oregon, stopping in 10 American cities. In lieu of searching for the answers, we focused on finding the questions and creating interdisciplinary work to be shared along the way.<\/p>\n

\"2018<\/a><\/h2>\n

\u2018Love Is the Bridge\u2019<\/h2>\n

By Amanda Flores \u201913<\/strong><\/p>\n

This morning as I uncurled myself from my egg-like sleeping shape the train conductor mistook me for another passenger and began speaking to me in Spanish. When I answered in Spanish he started and realized I was a different person. \u201cDamn, you\u2019re like a chameleon,\u201d he exclaimed.<\/p>\n

\"Two<\/a>This apt comparison got me thinking about how I feel between spaces and places on the train. I\u2019m like a chameleon standing in two worlds at once. In one world I am an observer, wandering from place to place, with my notebook and backpack, traveling through landscapes but not quite a part of them. In another world I am rooted in community, listening to the struggles and triumphs of loved ones in their individual lives and within the larger systems of the American life we all navigate. I hold stories of loved ones at home in Denver like precious cargo, a part of my map as I roll through the American landscape, a way for me to understand the intersecting stories of this nation. In both scenarios I am one ember with the ability to build a fire from scratch with the help of those around me and through interstitial moments of connection and truth telling. A fire around which to tell old stories and imagine futures.<\/p>\n

\"CC-BUL-Winter18-15-TrainConcert\" <\/a> <\/div> <\/div>
\"CC-BUL-Winter18-16-TrainChicago\" <\/a> <\/div>
\"CC-BUL-Winter18-16-TrainWhitefish2\" <\/a> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>
\"CC-BUL-Winter18-16-TrainWhitefish1\" <\/a> <\/div> <\/div>
\"CC-BUL-Winter18-16-TrainPostcards\" <\/a> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div> <\/div>\n

In the face of labyrinthine systems of government, policy, and politicians we\u2019ve never met in a country as vast as America, I feel small. It\u2019s like being a human body of flesh and bones boarding a massive metal train that flies down the railroad tracks and hoping the conductor will deliver you safely to your destination.<\/p>\n

Meanwhile, you are taking in the landscape, staring out a window. Along the way of the Rail Tale Tour I ask myself the question: What does America need from me to heal?<\/p>\n

On the 22-hour train ride from Minnesota to Montana, I fell into a cloud of memories, drawn back to the parting words of poet Diane Seuss at our senior poetry reading, more than five years ago: \u201cThere is a land of the living and a land of the dead, love is the bridge between them. Love and poetry.\u201d<\/p>\n

In America, the land of the dead is old stories of empires, self-interest, and capital gain. The land of the living is the land of the gift and generosity. And this reminds me that our purpose is to be bridge builders between the land of the living and the land of the dead. Our purpose is to rewrite the story, revising<\/span> again and again until America is a place where we remember that this moment of crisis is not a wasteland, but the beginning of a new story.<\/p>\n

Each one of us is writing the story of America \u2014 with our own abilities and inborn embers of creativity, <\/span>regardless of form. When we orient ourselves toward what is creative in ourselves, we write the world. Our stories become a technology to dismantle the master\u2019s house.<\/p>\n

Our stories are a fire we build to warm our bones through the night.<\/p>\n