Amanda Gorman is an African American poet. She wrote a poem called “The Hill We Climb.”
The LINC 7/8 class at the Cowichan Intercultural Society in Duncan, BC wanted to celebrate Black History Month in February and National Poetry Month in April.
Seven students wrote poems with the title “The Hill We Climb.” Here are some of the poems. Two other poems are available in the April issue of The Westcoast Reader.
“The Hill We Climb”
To the highest mountain I will go up and
I will go up singing and
singing with my ancestors, my people
singing redemption, hope, peace, joy, happiness,
because now we have the commitment time,
a Mexican singing are you ready for the change because I will start with mine.
— by Miguel (from Mexico)
“The Hill We Climb”
The virus makes us stay away,
As bias of ours does anyway
Now, weary COVID not zoomed yet
No worry, we have Zoom class yeah
When marching by us, up the hill
then in March the virus will disappear
Vaccines to healthy will come
Here we go, we overcome!
— by Jack (from South Korea)
“The Hill We Climb”
Waking up every morning in a positive mood
Then all the obstacles come towards me
The faces I meet on the way
The incidents I struggle with during the day
Trying to enjoy it every moment
But it’s not always easy
Feels like I climb the hill everyday
The hill that I wish to overcome
But fail to reach in the evening
Another day will come to try again though
— by Yumi (from South Korea)
“The Hill We Climb”
Nothing will happen unless you take action
Learning a new thing like language is difficult especially for adults
I was laughed at because of my pronunciation
I cause confusion because of the words I pick
Mistakes always make me lose my motivation
But also making mistakes improves my English
Learning English gave me chances to learn
new things that I can’t learn if I only speak Japanese
and to make wonderful foreign friends who have different cultures
Sometimes challenges are hard but they also bring
with them overwhelming joy and opportunity.
— by Mei (from Japan)
“The Hill We Climb”
Going along the street
you can see
a ghost, or walking dead.
It isn’t a trick.
It is true.
You can’t imagine
how it could spread.
I saw many people starving,
looking for food, scratching the waste of others.
How does this happen in a rich land?
How do we allow a few people
to steal our treasures, our gentle smiles?
How does this happen on fertile land?
How many souls walk, fighting for a bite?
There are no reasons.
You won’t understand it.
I can’t stand myself knowing that
my blood is there,
my lands are there.
Can you help me
dry my damp eyes,
let the world know it?
There is a wealthy land
with beautiful gifts
that God gives us.
We didn’t learn.
We need to learn.
Whoever leads the land
should be a humble man
with the heart in mind
and the mind at hand
putting together wise words.
— by Zoilabet (from Venezuela)
Submitted by Cowichan Intercultural Society • Photo: LINC 7/8 class