The Bear Essentials of Change
by Dr. Sheila Randolph
Most humans resist change. We hate to alter our routines, as our comfort zones are affected, and we like the calming solace of comfort. Indeed, change is often viewed as a negative, as in, “I had to change my plans, my mind-set, my schedule.” But a short word-origin search tells us that the expression is derived from the Middle English changen, which means to exchange or barter. Change, then, becomes synonymous with alteration, transformation, variation or substitution, and none of these words are usually perceived as negative. What then, has given change such a bad reputation? In search of an answer, I interviewed poet J.P. Dancing Bear to get his thoughts on the subject. What resulted was an inspirational view of change.
Bear, as he prefers to be called, states, “For me, change is a constant. It is something that the universe puts out there to influence us, to make us think, consider and ponder our own views and our position.” If viewed as Bear sees it, change is a natural and normal event, something that he wants to remain open to so that he will feel encouraged to investigate what the universe offers. It is by revisiting those truths that Bear is able to either reaffirm them or accept what he discovers.
Saying that he experiences change every day as his body gets older and physically transforms, Bear notes that the changes in his body over the last twenty years are also evident in our environment. Mirrored in both our collective lives and the life of our earth are found the defining terms for change: alteration, transformation, variation or substitution. The term transformation appears again when Bear relates, “It was transformational to read a James Wright poem while I was in college; it was an event that completely tilted my whole creative axis by changing my creative motivations and goals. After reading Wright’s poem I knew that I was going to write poetry till the end of my life.”
The term transformation is also applicable to Bear’s work. Even though he experienced some initial success when he first started writing poetry, he states, “I wasn’t satisfied with my craft, and even felt that my early success was undeserved.” This led to his cloistering himself for about fifteen years while he wrote in journals, basically just for himself. But Bear continued to read and study poetry and to incorporate insights and discoveries into his work.
At some point, he says, “I began to feel that I was writing at a level that was comparable to what I was seeing published,” and he began to attend workshops and seek out authors whose work he admired. It was during this period that Bear felt as though he was “toning” his craft. Due to this process, he gained the confidence to start submitting his work. “It was,” he says, “nothing big … just baby-steps on the path to envisioning myself as a poet.”
He only began to feel comfortable with being called a poet when he received several invitations to be a featured reader by several venues all at around the same time. “Things,” he adds, “have just sort of fallen into place ever since.”
Things have fallen into place for him. Even his celebrity has not changed much about him, his marriage or his family. He is just happy when someone reads his work and likes it enough to support it. He believes that his family has always been supportive of him because they viewed his work as “inevitable” and his stance as a poet just reaffirms what they already knew. He is, however, still on what he calls a trek, and feels that his celebrity is merely a side effect of that journey.
Celebrity is by no means the goal; the goal for Bear is to write, because it is necessary. He states, “Writing is the basic human desire to communicate, to connect with others, and has nothing to do with raking in the dough … signing big contracts … and being celebrated.” The reality of the publishing world and its obsession with money pushes authors to consider what they are willing to do to be successful. For poets such as Bear, this realization happens when they accept the fact that there is no money and a limited audience for their poetry.
So, if there is little money or glory, how does Bear now view himself and his life’s work? “My goal,” he says, “has not changed; I still want to communicate through the written word.” In order to do so effectively, he still attends workshops. In fact, the biggest change in his work has occurred due to workshops with C. J. Sage, and he firmly believes that her influence has greatly improved the quality of his work. Sage has had a huge impact on Bear’s work in that she “created a paradigm shift” in the way that he approaches his poetry, which he says fundamentally changed it. This change in perspective has meant that while he enjoys reading and writing poems, he is also aware of the complicated and subtle levels on which poems can operate. The change was profound, enough so that Bear now adds, “If I desire a change in my life, then it does become a goal.”
His goal now is to continue to make insights as he studies poetry, and to communicate with a larger audience. When asked how that goal translates for his work, he states, “If I could change anything in the world, I would like to end world hunger and war.” Although he was joking, his words ring with sincerity when he adds: “I think the power of good writing can possibly influence perspective, and that the words of poetry might help make that dream a reality, especially as concerns war.”
Bear says, “The larger job of the poet is to be a sort of barometer or indicator of what ails society.” Fitting perfectly into this scheme, he began working with public radio station KKUP and now hosts the talk show “Out of Our Minds,” a weekly poetry program produced by C. J. Sage. The combined status that Sage and Bear lend to the program has resulted in the booking of great guests from around the country. Guests and upcoming guests of the show include: C.K. Williams, Sandra M. Gilbert, Dorriane Laux, Ralph Angel, Bob Hicok, Jane Hirshfield, Joy Harjo, Kim Addonizio, Diane Thiel, Kimberly Johnson, Jim Powell, Stuart Dischell, Jenny Factor, Robert Thomas, Maude Meehan, Kathleen Lynch, Lynne Knight, Richard Silberg, Robert Funge, Jack Foley, Margery Snyder, C. Dale Young, Matthew Zapruder, Peter Richards
When asked how he would introduce, or describe himself, Bear replied, “Hi, my name is J. P. Dancing Bear, but most folks call me Bear.” Although I normally applaud change, this is one thing I hope never changes: I like that Bear is, essentially, just Bear.
Canaries
JP Dancing Bear
My grandmother's hands are canaries
ready to collapse in on themselves.
I study her hand in mine:
the thin skin, the purple veins and bones
ready to collapse in on themselves.
I am crying an afternoon of
the thin skin, the purple veins and bones
behind my attempts to be brave.
I am crying an afternoon of
my grandmother trying to communicate
behind my attempts to be brave.
I feel her hand slipping—
my grandmother trying to communicate
after the stroke stole her voice.
I feel her hand slipping
to make the gestures lost in air
after the stroke stole her voice,
locked inside her head, left
to make gestures that are lost in air
Between us,
locked inside, her head left,
ready to collapse in on itself.
Between us,
my grandmother's hands are canaries.
