Making a Fist (Mentor Text)

Making a fist, by Naomi Shihab, is considered a lyrical poem. The poem portion of this genre is obvious due to the setup of the text itself, yet we cannot always infer that it is lyrical. Personally, poetry is easy to identify because I read it extremely often. I can connect with several authors, and it acts as a creative outlet for me. There is a theme in this poem that discusses the process of moving. The process of moving from one place to another with no known end. I get a vibe of hope, but also confusion because there is no set conclusion or ending. The little girl is unsure of the destination, as well as the plan inside the mother’s head that we cannot infer. The audience for this text is immigrants. I cannot relate to the text in this specific way, yet I can relate to the constant moving and the fear that may come along with it. I believe that immigrants can relate to this text in more ways than one, not that they necessarily should have to. This text is providing insight into the struggle that she is going through. Although it just seems like a simple car ride, there is a lot going on mentally that is not directly stated. There is a mental toll being experienced by both parties. This text is providing insight into an experience, as well as the emotions of the car ride. This text was prompted due to the border issue. Are they crossing the border? Have they already crossed? Where are they going now? There are various questions that can be asked and pondered over why the text may have been written. In this case, I think the poem is about the author. I do not know this for certain but it seems like she is writing about a personal past experience. The topic seems intimate and special, and the feelings behind the words seem to come from real emotion. This text not only explains crossing the border but also covers the question of death. We never know when death will come for us, and she also wonders when she will be met with death. Her mom assures her that when you can no longer make a fist, you are no longer alive. Many people could accumulate many important messages based on this poem but one line stood out for me, “still lying in the backseat behind all my questions, clenching and opening one small hand.” I relate to this sentence because I tend to ponder over things I cannot control. I have an issue with not being able to let things so easily, and I have been the little girl in the car who hides behind her unanswerable questions.