Bonnie cycles on (feat. Sasha LaPointe)

Host Todd Boss enlists the help of Indigenous poet Sasha LaPointe to  motivate Bonnie on her journey of healing and exploration, through the inspiring Skagit Valley landscape.  

Chapters in this episode:

1. One more great feat
2. Pain, glory, and a conservative church
3. Two worlds: Transformation is real
4. Skagit Valley and its heritage
5. However: Two worlds
6. Bonnie meets Sasha
7. Sasha LaPointe reads "Cycles"
8. A circle of fir trees in prayer

Transcript

SUMMARY KEYWORDS

poem, love, bonnie, sasha, ride, moon, skagit, beautiful, sunday school, church, land, bike, write, skagit valley, feel, call, view, tribes, todd, coming

SPEAKERS

Bonnie, 

Todd, 

Sasha 

Todd  0:04  

You probably have some preconceived notions about poets, that they stand in the middle of the streets at night, for example, transfixed at the side of the moon. The moon never did much for me. I see it; I admire it; I take the sidewalk, but I have a friend who sees it very differently. So on a recent evening, as we stood at the window, I asked her to explain to me the moon's powerful hold on her. She described it as a bodily sensation, as if her blood had tides. She identifies with the moon's cyclical nature. It feels good, she said, to look at something so clear. She compared it to unconditional love, that clarity. She said it makes her feel lighter, like the moon is lifting her. Looking into her, seeing its own clear reflection in her. Welcome. I'm Todd Boss. In this podcast, I help strangers discover the poetry in their most intimate stories. In this episode, Bonnie.  

Bonnie  1:19  

Hello, my name is Bonnie. I live in Washington State. I'm an avid bicyclist—bicycler, maybe. I didn't really start riding seriously until after I was 50. And then I did the STP which is the ride from sale to Portland. And then a couple of years after that, I rolled over the North Cascade Mountains, which was the hardest thing I've ever done. And I, last fall, I broke my wrist while I was on a hiking trip, and I have been slowly trying to regain my strength and ride again. But I need some inspiration. And if you can write a poem that helped inspire me to do one more great feat on my bike before I'm too old to do any more great feats on my bike, thathat would be great. I'm 57, so I guess I'm not that old yet. But I do know that eventually my day will come when I won't be riding hundreds of miles anymore. But anyway, so that's one thing. The other thing—I don't know, this is probably a little bit more personal—in recent years, I kind of reevaluated my views on LGBTQ issues and decided that I was more progressive than my current church. And when I spoke out about it, I was told I'm not allowed to teach Sunday school or vacation bible school anymore. So there's that. And I guess that's about it. I don't know if there's anything else that would be poem worthy. But there you go.

Todd  2:56  

Doesn't Bonnie sound like the sweetheart Sunday School teacher that she once was? She looks it, too. On our zoom call, she’s rarely lacking a smile. Her eyes are searching and kind. She's wearing the classic costume of the upper Northwesterner: a fleece pullover. And while I can't fully make out the view through her dining room window, most of the time it looks gray and rainy, like it often is in Sedro-Woolley, her hometown in Washington State's Skagit Valley, a place known as the gateway to the North Cascades.

Bonnie  3:29  

I started really riding after my kids graduated from high school because I had a lot more time. And so I did. My first big event was the Seattle to Portland, which is where you ride your bike from Seattle to Portland, of course. It’s 200 miles.  I did it in two days, which really isn't all that spectacular. I mean, lots of people do it in one day. But I, for me, being really kind of a non-athletic person, it was a big challenge to get to that point. So I was really happy. And I did that. And then the following year was COVID; that was 2020. And they canceled all the sponsored bike rides. And so I had a friend that agreed to help me train to ride over the North Cascade pass. So I did that. And that was super fun. It was really hard and really tough. And then I started thinking, you know, I'm not done yet. I know I'm 57 and I can't keep doing these things rest of my life, but I want to have one last hurrah. And I started making plans to do something else, which I don't know if that'll be the Seattle to Portland in a day or another over the past. I hadn't quite figured that out, and I was on a hiking trip. And I slipped and fell, and I broke my right wrist. And it set me back for a long time. It's been four months now, when I was training to do the over the past ride I did. I learned—I learned that I was actually pretty good at climbing. So I am not a speed rider. I am a grunt rider. So I, I will never break any speed records on my bike. But I can go and go and go and go and go.

Todd  5:06  

I once did a 50 mile charity bike ride on flat land. And I ran track for a while in high school. But I'm no fan of endurance sports. I read poems because I rarely have the stamina for novels. So I wonder what motivates Bonnie to ride such long distances, especially this late in her life, when most people are slowing down.

Bonnie  5:28  

I did a mountain out on Orcas Island, which was actually harder than the pass; it was a really high grade. So that was the first training ride. The second one was Mount Baker, which was amazing. And we, we did that one; it was beautiful. We went up to the top, took a picture, and then we were coming down. And literally, you come around this corner. And it's almost like Mount Shuksan pops out at you. And it's close enough just to reach out and touch it. It just is glorious. It's right in front of your faces. So that was amazing. And then the next week, and we did the big ride over the pass. And that was just, it was both glorious and painful at the same time. And I think that's kind of a way I've figured life is; we're all living in this place of nuance where we have gloriousness and we have brokenness, and we experience them the same day, the same time—and so anyway, my, my right over the past was like that it was painful, but glorious, and I loved every minute of it. But I hurt every minute of it.  

Todd  6:45  

Pain and glory are concepts Bonnie has experienced with outside of cycling, I asked Bonnie, to tell me more about how her relationship with her church is changing. Like everything else in life, it's layered. It's complicated.

Bonnie  6:59  

Growing up in a Christian family, for me, was was wonderful. And I know some people have had really horrible, toxic experiences growing up in conservative denominations, and I feel for them. And I know that's true and valid. And I feel for them. For me, it was having a mom and dad who loved me, who took me to church. I went to Sunday school, I learned that Jesus loved me, and I believed it. And I gave me a foundation for, I think, for being centered and confident feeling like grace is real. And I live in that reality. I'm moving forward, went to a Christian college, that campus ministry for a couple years, a couple of different colleges moved, married my husband, moved out to Washington State. And I'm at a conservative church. And the conservative church I go to is wonderful. It has an important place in the community. I've been there 25 years. I've taught Sunday school for 25 years, and I'm hardcore Sunday school. I am fall, winter, spring and summer Sunday school teacher.

Todd  8:12  

Fall, winter, spring and summer. 

Bonnie  8:15  

Kids from the community come, and I get to tell the kids that Jesus loves them. And I love that about being a Sunday school teacher. About the time my kids were seniors, so that’s been, that's about five or six years ago, I kind of went through a thing where I had to really think through the LGBTQ issues, because quite honestly, I had not really wanted to deal with it. My whole view was just love everybody, just love everybody. But it's not a choice for people. And, and I just believe more and more about when Jesus said love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind and strength, and love your neighbors yourself is the lens we need to live by, the law of love. Right? And that means full acceptance. And so I came to that view. I told my church that I believed this. And anyway, I'm not going to go into details, but long and short of it is I am no longer able to teach Sunday school. 

Todd  9:18  

And how did that come down? Sorry, I don't need if you can't go into details. I can respect that. But if there if you can explain how that happened, how was it that you were told or what did you learn? And how did you learn it? That might be helpful just to paint a picture of what happened.

Bonnie  9:33  

Yeah, so, so the church that I go to is part of the denomination of Southern Baptist Church, and they have a statement called the Baptist faith and message. And in the Baptist faith and message, it says that you will oppose homosexuality. That's, I mean, that's actually what it says, which, when I read that, I thought that's so horribly insensitive. I mean, anyway, so I said, I, you know, this, and they said well, to teach Sunday school, you have to be able to support the Baptist faith and message. So I said, they said, either I can retract my view or I cannot teach. And I said, well, I'm not going to retract what I believe so. So in the midst of that, that's was horribly tragic for me because I mean, a big part of my life, of what I enjoy is teaching Sunday school. So anyway. And so along this journey, I had friends that were there and said, hey, guess what? I called them said, hey, guess what, there's a new church. And it's the whole church is made of refugees from Evangelicalism. And so I have found this a new group. I still go to my old church, and I go to the new church as well. So I'm living in between these two worlds.

Todd  10:50  

Two worlds, an old one that hasn't given Barney the room to shift into gear, and a new one, where Bonnie's passion and stamina are encouraged.

Bonnie  11:00  

When I ride a bike, I honestly feel transformed into a coordinated, graceful, balanced creature. And it reminds me, I guess, that my I believe that transformation is possible, that people change. Transformation is real. And anyway, I don't know, maybe I'm making too much out of that. But I—that’s part of, I think, why I like it so much.

Todd  11:30  

We talk about cycling some more. And then we talk about church and the social justice causes Bonnie's involved in. The more we talk, the more it's clear to me that Bonnie isn't just passionate about cycling; she's passionate about clean water and the environment, health care and education, gay and trans rights and all kinds of things. Whether Bonnie's feet are planted on the ground, or on her bike pedals, her brain is going 100 miles a minute. Honey, you've got your beautiful soul, you have so many things on your mind, you're really kind of churning with a lot of stuff. You're thinking about a lot of stuff, aren't you?

Bonnie  12:08  

I will tell you what it is. It's this chaotic energy I have.

Todd  12:14  

Where does that come from?

Bonnie  12:16  

I don't know. But my daughter has it too. We were riding in the car. And we're talking about all the ways that my daughter is like my husband, in many wonderful ways. And I mean, they both have a great sense of humor. They both have lots of great qualities. And I said, What about me? What did you get from me? And silence. And then my daughter's roommate says, Well, you both have the same chaotic energy. And I thought that actually is the nail on the head; we do, we both do.

Todd  12:49  

I asked Bonnie what she loves most about cycling.

Bonnie  12:53  

Biking time is good reflection time. I think, I sing, I pray. It helps me be grounded. It helps me be centered. It helps, it gives me a lot, I get a lot of satisfaction of just the beauty of enjoying nature, meeting my goals, of feeling well physically. I love being on wheels. I love feeling graceful and coordinated. I love seeing birds and the wildlife and the farm animals. I love Washington state is gorgeous. And I think I live in the most gorgeous part of a gorgeous state.

Todd  13:39  

Talk with Bonnie about cycling for long, and you'll inevitably end up talking about her love for the landscape of her beloved Skagit Valley. It comes up over and over again. But when I asked her what she understands about the history and heritage of the place, her awareness doesn't go back much further than colonial settlement by the Dutch ancestors who planted the tulips that draw so many of today's tourists to the area. Now you've come to expect a certain formula on this show. A stranger calls, tells me their story, I write a poem for them. We sit through tears for a while. But Barney is teaching me about transformation. And so it's fitting that I should break form with this episode, shift gears a bit and try something potentially painful and glorious. I consider Bonnie's evolving identity politics. I think about how motivated she is to extend love to all people. And I decided to break with this show’s formula and, without telling Bonnie, call upon another poet to write Bonnie's poem.

(Music)

Sasha  15:16  

It's going to push my ability to show up for someone who I don't know and really consider them and who they are. And try to write something beautiful and, like, curated for them—like, I'm up for that challenge. I'm going to do all that, so don't worry.  However…

Todd  15:47  

Meet Indigenous poet Sasha Lapointe, a member of the Upper Skagit and Nooksack tribes.  She was born and raised on the same land that Bonnie now calls home. I've reached out to Sasha, who draws inspiration from her coastal heritage, because I think she'd be the perfect person to write a poem for Bonnie. But Sasha has some hesitations.

Sasha  16:08  

However, this is a woman who I have virtually nothing in common with except for, like, geography. I have to say, I was like, I have to ask Todd why he chose me for this particular one.

Todd  16:24  

You’re helping her see through a different lens. Or you could see it as two sides of that equation coming together and finding common ground.

Sasha  16:37  

Yeah, I feel like I'm gonna have to put the little angry Indigenous self into a box on the shelf, and just be like, just for a minute and write a beautiful poem for the stranger. But then I'm gonna take her out and write a poem for me, maybe. And that's how I get through this. Because I was like, laughing a little; I was like, am I getting punked right now? Is Todd punking me?

Todd  16:58  

It isn't a joke. But it’s…I knew it would push your buttons. And I love that you're seeing it all, and that you're reacting the way you're reacting. It's, I don't mean to laugh. But it's it is kind of fun. It is kind of fun. 

Sasha 17:12

I was laughing, too.  Believe me, it was fine. 

Todd 17:15

To be fair, I had thrown this challenge at Sasha out of the blue. And Sasha is a poet who writes poems primarily from her own lived experience, not from the stories of other people. She doesn't write from white, colonialist points of view any more than I write poems from Indigenous points of view, but Sasha’s laughter and hesitation turned to care. As soon as she'd had a chance to listen to the interviews I'd already done with Bonnie.

Sasha  17:40  

I'm not really sure what she needs. Like, at least I know my approach, where I can sort of talk through this poem, or kind of find inspiration in the land around her that she loves, and the bike rides. But I also am worried that I won't know what, what it is she's looking for.

Todd  17:56  

That's okay. Because she doesn't either. If she did, she'd write it herself, right? Or she'd find it in a passage somewhere, or she'd have already, you know, located it. But she's coming to us because she doesn't know what she needs to have with her. And so it's a real, it's almost like a little, like she's embarked on a vision quest, and she doesn't know where it will end. And it's up to us.

Sasha  18:21  

Well, and it's also good to get out of my own head around being concerned about like, oh, she doesn't want to poem for me, like, that's, that's just a personal hurdle I can get over. And I think something that was helpful to was, I think, in one of your emails, you had mentioned something about thinking about the, the poem in the voice of like, the land around her, which I thought, like, totally freed me up like speaking from the voice of the mountain, or like if land in general, it was really freeing for me. So that took like a little bit of the panic or the burden where I was like, oh, and then when looking through the maps, one of her favorite rides, is out by this place called Concrete.  That specific area along the Skagit River, and the old Skagit highway is absolutely like upper Skagit territory, like my tribe’s territory. And along that same river is a place where we were gathering like my ancestors and relatives still, to this day, go out and gather red paint, like from the river, there's like a certain clay. So that area, even though it holds a lot of scary teenager Sasha memories, it was like really charged with ancestral, like, presence and history. And it's like a really powerful place that, like, stretch of highway.  And so I thought that was a really cool coincidence, that that happens to be one of her favorite rides.

Todd  19:45  

Yeah, interesting. Okay, yeah. So there's lots of opportunity. You're starting to see lots of jumping off points that could work. Sasha started writing. Bonnie still hadn't been told what was going on. And before I knew it, the poem was done. And I schedule us all for the video call that would reveal everything. Bonnie, I have some explaining to do, alright?  So. (Okay.) I have found it difficult to write your poem. (Oh.) And so I've enlisted the help of another poet. (Oh wow. And that …I love that.) Her name, okay, her name is…

Bonnie  20:26  

So Sasha, you're another poet?

Todd  20:29  

Sasha taqʷšəblu LaPointe is her name. Have you heard that name before? She’s…

Bonnie  20:34  

I have not. It's a beautiful name.

Todd  20:36  

She’s from the Upper Skagit and Nooksack Indian (seriously) tribes. (No!) And she (Oh, my word.) So she's your neighbor? Yeah, she lives in…

Bonnie  20:50  

So I can hopefully meet you in person someday.

Sasha  20:53  

Yeah, I go up to like, go back to the Skagit Valley. You know, not super frequently but sometimes. My parents were just there doing a documentary screening at the Lincoln Theater, downtown Mount Vernon. 

Bonnie 21:09

Oh, what a night.

Todd  21:12  

It feels so good to bring these two strangers together who share a common love for a place they call home. This love really comes alive in Sasha's poem for Bonnie, “Cycles.” Okay, Sasha take it away. You want to set this up in any way?

Sasha  21:27  

So there are three Skagit words, which is also known as Lushootseed I don't know if you're familiar with all the tribes, Coast Salish tribes, spoke Lushootseed. So Skagit language is Lushootseed, and there are three Lushootseed words in this poem for you.

Todd  21:42  

Those three Lushootseed phrases are Səxʷši’cəlʔs, which means the moon to put your paddles away, Pədstəgʷad, which means moon of the salmonberry and Pədx̌ aʔx̌ aʔ, which means moon of the sacred time.

Sasha  22:01  

Cycles/ Winter comes to the valley blanketing the world hushed and grey/ cold moons/ are spent indoors Səxʷši’cəlʔs/ the moon to put your paddles away/ pull the canoes onto the beach/ this is the time for weaving/ for making things/ because this is the dying season/ death settles and pulls/ the leaves from their trees/ like a dance like a ritual/ of grief and ceremony/ the land falling back into hibernation/ small waterways/ quiet and frozen/ but the tide is coming in/ and a rush of wingspan/ beats feathered knives/ across the sky/ a wind of swans returning/ a formation that sings/ I’m alive I’m alive/ and now the river yawns/ and wakes snow melts/ down the mountains/ blue herons dive/ for blackmouth salmon/ an alpaca is born/ in the middle of a meadow/ limbs loose and clumsy/ its birth marks the moon/ of the Salmonberry/ when the earth stirs and the huckleberries/ are gathered while mothers/ pick wild flowers/ Pədstəgʷad/ calls the world/ into blooming/ Red Sockeye/ and new life/ water rushing/ and hawks sailing/ over star shaped irises/ that circle a fir tree/ in prayer/ this is the season/ for celebration and movement/ through days long with light/ to embrace the time/ as it cycles through/ another moon/ the final phase/ Pədx̌ aʔx̌ aʔ/ is for longhouse fires and storytelling/ a time to learn from elders/ this moon translated/ means sacred

Bonnie  24:10  

I am just overcome. It was truly beautiful. It is truly beautiful. So, I have to tell you a couple of things. One is I never even mentioned to Todd, but the trumpeter swans that come back every year have a special meaning for me, and whenever they come back, I just get this feeling of peace knowing there's something right in the world, and I love how you put that in the poem not even knowing that. And I love the part where the tide comes in because it starts out with winter and the gray and the cold, and then the hope of the tide coming in and bringing new life and bringing hope is truly inspiring, and that is what I was hoping for and really needing and wanting, and I'm, I'm so in love with it. Thank you, thank you. 

Sasha 25:11

Thank you so much.

Todd  25:13  

This poem inspires more conversation about how language means more than the sum of its meanings. And we end our conversation on the same word that ends the poem: sacred. 

Sasha  25:26  

I know that neither Todd nor Bonnie will see these words on the page and recognize them immediately. But that was kind of why I felt it was really important to include them because you are residing in Skagit territory, and how beautiful to like, see, and have such an appreciation for that land and where you're at, and I can hear it, I hear it in your bike rides and the things that you pay attention to. And it was really beautiful to like, move through and go on that those journeys with you as someone who grew up there. And then I was thinking, how beautiful would it be for her to engage with the language of that land, even if it's, like, appears on the page, like, what are these symbols? What does this look like?, you know, it’s, it was sort of like a way to engage with the Skagit culture around you.

Bonnie  26:15  

It is definitely, it feels like I had a hole that I didn't even know needed to be filled, and you filled it. It really is a connection, and they have a connection with the land and you filled in that piece, I guess, maybe not a whole bit, a piece. You fill that in, and it's perfect. And, and you know, Sasha, I mean, you heard all my interview. So you heard all my deconstructed religious junk. And, and you included this part in so beautifully about the irises and a circle, that circle, a fir tree in prayer. And I thought, that is exactly where I am. I'm not…anyway, it's a beautiful image that really resonates. And I mean, I just love it. I love everything. I love the connection to nature. I love the spirituality of it. I love the hope and inspiration in it. I love the language. I love how it ends. This moon translated means sacred. And I do feel it's a sacred, it's a sacred land. It's the sacred land to your ancestors. And it's feels that way to me too.

Todd  27:31  

You know, Bonnie, when I when I first read it, and I've only had it for less than an hour, it's new to me too. So beautiful. But what first struck me about it is some of the things that you know, when you first were opening up to me and telling me about your accident and how difficult it was for some reason for you to get back on your bike and how you really wanted to figure that out. And what I love about Sasha’s poem is that it sort of offers forgiveness for that and absolution for that and lets you think about it differently in terms of cycles and in terms of these just these seasons that that you just need to listen to the moon and let it, let it happen.

Bonnie  28:14  

So true. Absolutely. And there's so much hope in that.

Todd  28:21  

Shortly after this episode was completed, Bonnie let me know that she'd signed up for a 191 mile ride from Seattle to Vancouver. Apparently this is the season for celebration and movement. All of us at TAPIT wish Bonnie a safe ride. Here it is again: Sasha LaPointe, reading cycles.

Sasha  28:43  

Winter comes to the valley blanketing the world hushed and grey/ cold moons/ are spent indoors Səxʷši’cəlʔs/ the moon to put your paddles away/ pull the canoes onto the beach/ this is the time for weaving/ for making things/ because this is the dying season/ death settles and pulls/ the leaves from their trees/ like a dance like a ritual/ of grief and ceremony/ the land falling back into hibernation/ small waterways/ quiet and frozen/ but the tide is coming in/ and a rush of wingspan/ beats feathered knives/ across the sky/ a wind of swans returning/ a formation that sings/ I’m alive I’m alive/ and now the river yawns/ and wakes snow melts/ down the mountains/ blue herons dive/ for blackmouth salmon/ an alpaca is born/ in the middle of a meadow/ limbs loose and clumsy/ its birth marks the moon/ of the Salmonberry/ when the earth stirs and the huckleberries/ are gathered while mothers/ pick wild flowers/ Pədstəgʷad/ calls the world/ into blooming/ Red Sockeye/ and new life/ water rushing/ and hawks sailing/ over star shaped irises/ that circle a fir tree/ in prayer/ this is the season/ for celebration and movement/ through days long with light/ to embrace the time/ as it cycles through/ another moon/ the final phase/ Pədx̌ aʔx̌ aʔ/ is for longhouse fires and storytelling/ a time to learn from elders/ this moon translated/ means sacred

Todd 30:47

To read and hear this poem again, plus Bonnie’s reflections on it, and to find out how Bonnie’s ride went, visit our website, poeminthat.com.  There’s a Poem in That is written and produced by me, Todd Boss, with support from associate producer Hila Plitmann and story editor Chelsea Davis, audio support from Ben O’Brien. Our theme music is by Esh Whitacre.  Special music for this episode, including the current track, Volcano Bicycle, was created by Nir Yaniv, and if you’re in need of some biking music, you can download it at poeminthat.com. Our guest poet, Sasha taqʷšəblu LaPointe’s memoir, is called Red Paint:  The Ancestral Autobiography of a Coast-Salish Punk, and her first collection of poems, Rose Quartz, is available from Milkweed Editions.  Find them on our merch page at poeminthat.com.  You’ll also find Sasha on our website, where, for a fee, she’ll write a poem for you.  It’s a new feature of the TAPIT universe:  professional poets at your service.  Check it out at poeminthat.com/

Bonnie. 31:58

Alrighty, I am here at a sheep farm on Minkler, and there are a couple little lambs bouncing around.  They are little, like teeny little lambs. Nothing better than a March afternoon, a sunny March afternoon, getting to watch some lambs bounce around.  Not much in the world better than that.  

Todd 32:14

And as always, if you feel there’s a poem in your story, leave me a message at 808-300-0449.  I’m Todd Boss, reminding you that there’s a poem in everything, if you’re paying attention.