A Week’s Worth of Runs
Honolulu, HI
2024, Senior, Interactive & Multimedia
Project Description: “A Weekʻs Worth of Runs” is a combination of spoken word poetry and jazz. A video of the performance of “A Weekʻs Worth of Runs” is played with a video of improvisation on the vibraphone, combining music and poetry in a unique performance designed to share a comprehensive narrative of my personal experiences with climate change.
Monday
I can feel the ocean,
alive and reaching out,
calling out to me with quiet crashes.
The thick salt air makes it hard to breathe,
demanding to be remembered
with every breath.
Its blue hues twinkle,
reflecting the sun’s light
just enough to hide the honu
that simply floats to the
rhythm of the water.
Tuesday
The clouds that loom overhead
drove the usual crowd away today, away
from the water that typically draws them here.
The main attraction rushes forward,
coming up to its adoring fans. It runs closer,
and closer, and closer still, rushing up to greet them
on the sidewalks where they stood just yesterday
(where they stood snapping pictures with the
celebrity and its friend, a monk seal) before
running back home on the very same
concrete road. I donʻt complain
as I bask in the silence and solitude
of the day, willing myself not to flinch
when the water swallows the rock wall whole
(something it never did, even a year ago).
Friday
whatʻs left when washing waves
reclaim shorelines that
were never theirs to reclaim, yet
never ours to tame
when cycles of sand sift
through rocky ridges,
slowly sinking down
to the depths they were drawn from
in an attempt to pretend
that itʻs still the same
when the ocean of Instagram
demands not to be a prop for
posts that beckon people
who refuse to respect nature
and ride on the back of honu
who ask nothing but
respect of you
when all of these things
become the norm, our committees’ plans
become too little, too late, and routes I ran just yesterday
become nothing more than memories
left to fall between
the concrete and the waves?
Whatʻs left then?
Reflection
For three years, I’ve been running to Kālia, a former fishpond drained and renamed “Fort DeRussy” after an American general. Over these years, I’ve observed rising sea levels, increasingly drastic weather patterns, and the gradual erosion of the rocks and sand. “A Week’s Worth of Runs” is structured in three sections that represent my run schedule during a hypothetical week. The first part, “Monday,” reflects my initial reaction to Kālia, simply observing the beauty of the place. Its form is a wave, washing up from the left of the page to the right. “Tuesday” looks more into the effects of humans on the natural elements of Kālia. The effects of climate change that I’ve observed over the past few years are introduced in this section. “Tuesday’s” shape is that of a higher shoreline that doesnʻt recede as much as “Monday’s,” signifying rising sea levels. The last section, “Friday,” is the last and most distinct section of the poem, repeating questions of what happens when the effects of climate change and disrespectful actions catch up to us, erasing the places we love the most. Unlike the rest of the sections in “A Week’s Worth of Runs,” “Friday” doesn’t list observations, but instead asks a question and makes a demand for change. As a jazz musician, improvisation is an art that I value and enjoy. After performing a speech while musicians played their instruments (a concept inspired by Ken Nordine’s album, Colors), I was inspired to do something similar with “A Week’s Worth of Runs”. Reading this poem aloud revealed the musicality and rhythm of my words, and I chose to use a vibraphone to enhance my performance of the poem. This combination of music, poetry, and climate change activism is a reflection of who I am and the activities that I love most.