(gentle music) - [Pamela] Tonight, meet the state's poet laureate.

- My first poetry book came out when I was in my 50s.

- And that's surprising.

- (laughs) Right?

It is surprising, and it's completely not recommended.

(both laughing) - [Pamela] Then, coping with Alzheimer's through art and one man's quest to keep kids outdoors.

- This gives me a good feeling knowing that I'm, you know, giving them some education and hopefully some memories to carry on with them.

(bright music) (bright music continues) - Good evening, and welcome to "Rhode Island PBS Weekly."

I'm Pamela Watts.

- And I'm Anaridis Rodriguez.

We begin tonight with a story about a man with an unusual job in Rhode Island.

- Brown professor Colin Channer is Rhode Island's poet laureate, a literary voice for the state.

We first talked with him last year to find out what the post entails and why he says poetry matters beyond words.

- As a poet, I try to always remember the roots of poetry are in song, are in ritual, are in prayer, are in magic.

- [Pamela] Rhode Island's new poet laureate, Colin Channer, believes there is a mystical connection to such words.

- When we say we're enchanted by something, there's the idea of the incantation in that.

How is it that we can listen to a song in a language that we cannot speak, yet be moved by that song?

- [Pamela] The author of two collections of poetry, Channer says verse gives power to the micro-moments of life.

- We have mirrors and we have windows, right?

The mirrors are the elements of a piece of writing that make you see yourself.

And the windows are the aspects that give you a view into different worlds.

And so as a public poet in the role of the poet laureate, I'm in a position to present poetry that will do both.

- [Pamela] Channer is bringing both worlds to his role in Rhode Island.

He was born and raised in Jamaica where his mother declared he was lucky.

- I think that's part of my good fortune.

I describe myself as a weird kid with a strong mother, who was influenced so much by the music of Jamaica he didn't realize he was learning the art of poetry through the lyrics of people like Bob Marley.

- [Pamela] His father, a police officer, died when he was just 12 years old.

His mother, a pharmacist, was his major influence and a storyteller.

- I would listen to her and her friends on the veranda in Kingston, Jamaica, laughing and telling stories.

She spoke her mind.

She never hesitated, you know?

She would use quite colorful language, and she would often declare, "I'm no lady," you know?

(both laughing) She would say, "I am no lady.

A lot of the ladies come to me for Valium because they can't speak their minds."

(laughs) - [Pamela] Channer eventually moved to New York and became an associate professor of literary arts at Brown University in 2016, where he continues composing poetry today.

- There's sometimes where I feel a poem is on me, and it feels like a kind of haunting where I know that I am rising a little bit out of the every day.

It's a calling, and it's a practice.

It's kind of funny when you look through and see drafts of poems because some of them are just scraps that didn't make it.

I have very different processes.

Sometimes an idea comes, sometimes a line comes, sometimes I overhear things.

- [Pamela] He is following in the footsteps of late Brown professors Michael Harper and C.D.

Wright.

Channer is the state's seventh poet laureate, a position generated by the General Assembly in 1987.

The appointment is for five years with $1000 stipend for each.

The poet laureate has free reign as a literary arts advocate in the Ocean State.

Channer reveals he wants to create something special.

- I would love to see a literary festival in the state on the scale of the Newport Jazz Festival, right?

We have some of the greatest institutions of learning in the country here in Rhode Island, and we also have a beautiful landscape.

You know, when I go to the state beaches, I just keep thinking, every boardwalk is a stage.

And imagine if there were these events down on the state beaches, right, where you could bring your blanket, right, and you could hear the world's greatest authors and the region's greatest authors and the greatest local authors right there as the sun is going down behind you, right?

It would be so marvelous.

- [Pamela] That marvelous experience is one Channer has already co-created, the Calabash Literary Festival in his native Jamaica.

- The way in which the ocean is never far in Rhode Island, you know, that reminds me a lot of the Caribbean, but also, too, the way in which people here are vocal.

Rhode Islanders are not quiet people.

(both laughing) - So you felt like you fit right in?

- I fit right in.

Rhode Island people are expressive and they like food.

The cultural admixture as well, you know, Portuguese, Italian, Irish, African American, right, Cambodian.

It has that kind of complex mixture, which is a presumption in the Caribbean.

So it's that twinness of belonging and exploration that, I think, are part of who I am as a poet and as a person.

- And yet you didn't start writing until you were in your 30s.

- Yeah.

- [Pamela] Which people might find unusual.

- Yeah, my first book came out when I was 35.

My first poetry book came out when I was in my 50s.

- And that's surprising.

- It is, (laughs), it is surprising, and it's completely not recommended.

(both laughing) But also, too, I think a kind of openness and a kind of curiosity about what's possible is something that has always driven me, and so I was curious about what it would mean to write poetry seriously, and I kind of did it on a lark.

- [Pamela] That spur-of-the-moment decision has taken flight.

In his most recent collection of poems, Channer was inspired to write about Rhode Island's stormy past after viewing photos of the destruction wrought by Hurricane Carol in '54 and the Hurricane of '38.

It's titled "Eye."

- "Mist and drizzles turn to buffets, then all normal snaps from roots, havoc sent to ravage wave to wave.

So it was for Wampanoag, Nipmuc, Niantic, Pequot, Narragansett, deluge-colonizing, gust insults, bodies shook like canoes in crosscuts, pneumonic fear, and the drowned boy's last view, the eye, what stillness.

One new god's promise.

Peace."

We often think of a hurricane as a destructive force, and it is, right?

But so was colonization.

And so I imagine in this poem the hurricane as this force that comes from offshore onto land, the way in which colonizers came from the ocean and came on the land, right?

And what it might have been, felt like for, you know, Native Americans.

- When people read your poetry, what do you want them to come away with?

What feeling?

- It's not so much a word but a sound.

I want them to come away with some version of "Mm."

Beyond words.

- The post of poet laureate has one specific requirement: write a poem for the governor's inauguration, and that occasion will be in 2026.

We now turn to a story about art and love.

In September of 2023, contributing producer Dorothy Dickie introduced us to a Massachusetts artist whose work took a dramatic turn when her husband began to lose his way.

- Art is essential to my life.

You know, I'm visual, and everything sort of matters to me visually more than anything, even jokes.

If a joke is a visual joke, I get it more than I get a spoken joke.

It's important for me to express myself through art.

My name is Sara Holbrook, and I'm an artist.

My husband, Foster Aborn, he was kind, he was generous, he was warm and caring and helped so many people with their careers.

He was the love of my life.

Probably about 12 years ago, he drove home in a snowstorm and he forgot where he was going.

By the time he got home, he was flustered, and he called his doctor the next day and said that this was not usual.

He was worried about his memory.

And at that time, he had mild cognitive impairment.

They said not to worry, and he was still fine for a long time after that.

I specialized in watercolor, but I took a photography course with a friend out of curiosity in Boston and I fell in love with photography.

And then it was crucial when my husband was ill because I didn't have time to paint.

You know, that takes a lot of time and concentration.

If he took a nap or something, I could do the my art in stages, which is important.

I started out with dreams, I would dream up these ideas.

And then I would take a background photo, I would take a photograph of myself.

I had to be dressed as I needed to be for the photograph and I had to be in the right position, and that was always a little difficult to figure out how to do that, but that worked.

And then I put it on the computer and scaled it down and then printed it out, and I cut it out, and I pasted it onto the background photo, and then I rephotographed it.

That was my process.

(camera shutter clicks) (gentle music) Later, I entitled my work "99 Problems" because that also reflects what I was dealing with as a caregiver for somebody with Alzheimer's.

I found the photograph when I was in Paris and I just was drawn to it for the visual image of it.

It was orange and it was a perfume bottle.

And I snapped the photo and didn't think much of it until I started dealing with this dream series.

And I put myself in it as a scuba diver, that somebody was trapped and couldn't get out.

And that's the situation.

As a spouse, there you are and you're dealing with this and that's what you do, but you're stuck.

"99 problems" was a perfect metaphor because you never knew what problem was going to present itself.

There were myriad things that would happen to you during the course of a day, just unexpected, and I had to feel like Wonder Woman 'cause I was dealing with so much, you know?

He liked to work more than anything, so he'd go to his office.

So that worked out until COVID hit and then he couldn't go in anymore.

And that was very frustrating for him 'cause he didn't understand at that point anything about COVID.

He couldn't understand that all of Boston was really shut down.

He couldn't go into his office building, and he'd wander from the house trying to go to Boston.

He'd walk, you know?

And I'd have to run after him at all hours of the day and night.

I tried to keep him in, but it was sort of a full-time job just keeping the reins on him.

Well, the hardest part for me was not getting any sleep.

I was always, always on alert, on call, because he would wake up in the middle of the night and leave the house.

So I had to be ready to try to persuade him to come back.

Or I'd have to follow him outside and walk around in the middle of winter or in a rainstorm, anything, and call the police sometimes if I couldn't persuade him to come back, I had to...

The police knew him pretty well.

How I dealt with it on the worst days was by loving him, knowing that I loved him and that he was a worthy human being, even if I was frustrated.

I tried to use humor as a way to diffuse the frustration.

So I think you look at it and you see both.

You don't know whether to laugh or cry when you look at my work, but you get it.

This is called "Rinse Cycle."

It was a very, very bad day.

It just shows intense frustration.

He saw the work, but it didn't register with him.

He even went to an art opening that I had, and he was just happy to be there with the people, but he had no idea of the concept of it.

So we both love Paris, and that was my place for shooting with my camera 'cause I just felt so alive there.

In October 2019, I was walking around Paris with Foster.

I had been taking photographs, we were heading back to the hotel, and I saw some people gathering.

They were carrying these life-size cutouts of people.

And I was just fascinated, I wanted to take a photograph.

And it wasn't long at all, but I turned around and Foster was gone.

And after an hour of looking, I came back to the hotel and Foster was there with this lovely young man.

And the man said that he in fact was a researcher in Alzheimer's and Foster found him in the whole city of Paris and went up to him and asked for help.

Amazing.

Absolutely amazing.

I didn't know I could cope with this.

And I, looking back, I don't know how I did.

I kept him far longer than anybody said that I should have, you know, at home because I loved him, you know, and putting him somewhere just didn't seem right, but eventually I had to do it.

We were really close to one another, you know?

And even when he was in memory care, we had fun.

I miss that, you know?

You sort of settle at whatever level they are at and he still reacted.

I danced with him when I go in, you know, it was still very intimate.

(soft music) My understanding of Alzheimer's is it's really a different process for everybody, but it is usually very frustrating for the caregiver.

It's just your favorite person has become somebody else, basically, and that's very hard to digest.

If you're an artist, you are driven to do something artistic.

It gave me an outlet, it gave me a way to express how frustrated I was, and somehow that relieved the frustration.

And art's terrific that way.

And what amazes me is that my art has helped other people in this same situation, even though they didn't do the art.

For me, it was a joy to do the art.

But people looking at it, I think, feel that it gives them license to feel their frustration, to own that frustration as well.

I think it just shows that it's okay to be frustrated and express yourself that way, 'cause I hope my art shows the love that I have for my husband, but also shows that it's a very frustrating thing to take care of someone with Alzheimer's.

It's the hardest thing I've ever had to deal with in my life.

It was a long journey to be with somebody with Alzheimer's 'cause this is really a strange one.

You know, when people's minds go, it's difficult.

I've just been coping, you know, I don't know how I'm doing, it's just gonna take time.

I'm not sure how I'm gonna deal with it.

I will deal with it at some point and be on another project.

- Finally tonight, we meet a man from Coventry who several years ago was fishing in a local pond when a group of kids approached him and asked if they could borrow one of his fishing poles.

As we first reported back in 2022, that encounter prompted him to start a program that has impacted the lives of many local young people as well as his own life.

(lighthearted music) - My name is John Graichen.

I'm the founder of Keeping Kids Fishing.

(lighthearted music continues) What we do is each Sunday, I usually choose a lake in Coventry because it's a big shoreline.

I set up a table, I put fishing poles out, I put worms out, gear, bobbers, sinkers, anything the kids would need.

I advertise it, and the kids come, and I show them how to fish.

And towards the end of the day, if they are into it, they, you know, they take their fishing poles home with them.

(lighthearted music continues) - A baby one.

I caught seven fish, eight, around there.

- I taught myself at four years old.

My dad worked a couple of jobs and my mom would bring my brother to softball.

I wasn't really into sports at four, so I would play along the shoreline.

There was a pond nearby, and like I said, I found some string, I put a hook, I found a hook, and then I dug up some worms, and I was on my way.

And I realized that there's a lot of kids that, they don't have anyone to show them.

(lighthearted music continues) - Things are different nowadays, so kids are usually on the phone, so it's nice to have the kids outside doing things and not on their phones, right, Sam?

(chuckles) - One person brought her son, he was a gamer, he was always in his room playing on his tablets and playing the games on the computer.

And she said she had to drag him out of the house to come to the event, and he had a T-shirt on that said, "I paused my game for this?"

And she brought him back, he had a good day, and he came back the next week with a friend.

And then the following week, he came back with two friends.

And now he's no longer in his room playing on the games, he's out fishing with his new friends.

This helps me because I have severe neuro Lyme disease and it causes anxiety and manic depressive disorder, and when you see the child catch their first fish, it just takes it all away.

- Favorite part about fishing is catching fish, 'cause you get to see what kind of fish you caught.

- [Interviewer] And how many did you catch today?

- One.

- Last year, we had a fundraiser at Camp Westwood in Coventry, and a little girl had won the First Fish Trophy.

And she came up to me with her mom and she asked me if she could give me a hug.

And I look at the mom and the mom nods, and so I gave her a hug, I said, "Thank you."

I said, "Why would you give me a hug?"

And she says, "Well, you see this trophy?"

And I said, "Yes, you won the First Fish."

And then she goes, "No, you got this for me."

And so I asked her, "Well, how did I get that trophy for you?"

She said, "You gave me a fishing pole, you show me how to use it, you show me how to cast and how to reel it in and how to put the bait on, and I caught a first fish.

You did this, you caught me that first fish."

And I was really, really touched.

So this gives me a good feeling knowing that I'm, you know, giving them some education and hopefully some memories to carry on with them.

There you go, that's all set.

- I have a- - Thank you, sir.

- And to date, Keeping Kids Fishing has given away nearly 3,500 fishing poles to children.

And that's our broadcast this evening.

Thank you for joining us.

I'm Pamela Watts.

- And I'm Anaridis Rodriguez.

We'll be back next week with another edition of "Rhode Island PBS Weekly."

You can now listen to our entire broadcast every Monday night at 7:00 on The Public's Radio.

And don't forget to follow us on Facebook and YouTube.

You can also visit us online to see all of our stories and past episodes at ripbs.org/weekly or listen to our podcast on your favorite streaming platform.

Goodnight.

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