Grief is Not a Luxury

Poetry is necessary and helps us process trauma and loss.

by Abigail Rollins

In a year of prolonged isolation and trauma, poet Jessi Jarrin saw that she and her peers were struggling. While there’s been ample time for self-reflection, there’s also been a lull in motivation and space to express ourselves meaningfully.

Jarrin is creating that space for herself with the launch of her poetry workshop, “Grieving is Good for You.” In this interview, she shares about the project, tragic women of the art world, liberating art, and the many facets of grief and poetry.

What was your reasoning for titling your workshop "Grieving is Good for You?"

I wanted people to know right off the bat that I write as a means to grieve. I never encountered a space within an institution where I could grieve properly. Thinking on this, I realized that everyone grieves from the beginning of our time on Earth. There’s always some sense of loss throughout our lives. But I’ve learned that while there’s a promise of grief in life, there’s not a promise of healing.

And I don’t like that. There is such disconnect between how we acknowledge grief and how we digest it.

As writers and southern Californians, we’ve destigmatized mental health, but there’s a lot more to be done institutionally, systemically, and socially to facilitate healing. That’s how I see this workshop.

It was never just a space to practice poetry and get feedback. I recognized that this community is grieving, and I wanted to create a space where all feel welcome, open, and comfortable to express what they feel, even if it’s sad.

Some artists might say that theme is restrictive. How would you respond to that?

I have to be careful when I am advocating for expressing grief. I want to encourage vulnerability, but I don’t demand we express ourselves in the same way. Grief does not look the same for everyone, and it looks like a lot of things for even one person.

My advocacy stems from poets like Audre Lorde, who said, “Poetry is not a luxury.”

I think of grief in the same way. Grief is a human right, and it is always your own experience. I just want you to share it.

It’s a popular trope that women writers are doomed tragic figures in poor mental health that only write about their grief and trauma. How do you respond to this in your life and work?

I will not be your tragic woman poet. Artists like Sylvia Plath and Virginia Woolf have been marred so much by their states of mental health, and whether or not people realize it, they’re being condescending when they say, “Well, their pain made their art.”

I’m not in the camp of people who think trauma made me stronger. I also don’t think that trauma, grief, and melancholy are the only interesting things to talk about in poetry.

Grief is pertinent to my work because I know so many of us have not been able to express and process it. That’s why I feel the onus is on me to express it and help others to do the same. If people walk away from my work feeling sorry for me, then I haven’t done my job.

As a poet with a degree in creative writing, how do you feel about art in academia? How might we liberate our art and ourselves from institutions that don’t hold space for grief?

I don’t deny that I am a traditionally trained poet. Academia is a great space for poets to practice and learn from other poets. But I love the idea of freeing our art from institutions.

I used to repeat the mantra, “Education is important,” without giving it too much thought. I eventually realized the limits of that statement. You can’t just shout that at the world without facilitating access to education.

People need to empower students within academic institutions. [Education] moves at the pace of capitalism, which makes no time for grief in the way that art and poetry can.

Poetry is for me. It’s for all of us. That’s what liberated me. Writing in free verse meant that I could work with broken up sentences in interesting ways about things that I normally wouldn’t talk about. It started as simply as that, and then it evolved into a much bigger part of how I experience the world.

I tell new poets all the time, “Don’t be scared of the thing. Do the thing!”

It’s easier said than done, and it’s ongoing, but it works. That’s how I started this workshop. My goal is to normalize vulnerability and access to poetry for all. This is the space I’ve created for artists to grieve and create.

Jessi Jarrin smiling for a photo.

Photo courtesy of Jessi Jarrin

Jessi Jarrin is an LBSU alumunus with a BA in English, Creative Writing. Her poetry concerns being a young woman navigating a world that often marginalizes them — particularly women of color. Jarrin’s work has been published in ¡Pa’lante! Literary Journal, PSPoets, Dig Magazine, Antifragile Magazine, and Prometheus Dreaming Magazine.

For more about Jarrin, her workshop and her other creative projects, find her on Instagram @jessijarrin and @grievingisgoodforyou, and www.grievingisgoodforyou.org.