{"id":3133,"date":"2025-06-18T19:04:04","date_gmt":"2025-06-19T02:04:04","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/dornsife.usc.edu\/magazine\/?p=3133"},"modified":"2025-06-19T12:39:21","modified_gmt":"2025-06-19T19:39:21","slug":"make-room","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/dornsife.usc.edu\/magazine\/make-room\/","title":{"rendered":"make room"},"content":{"rendered":"\n\n \n \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n
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\"\"<\/p>\n

make room<\/h1>\n

By Shandela Contreras<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n <\/div><\/div>\n\n\n\n\n \n \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n

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when i moved \/ from my parents\u2019 house \/ to my own \/ I took selena \/ the movie \/ a dvd \/ with jlo\u2019s face \/ the bean bag \/ my cousins laughter \/ still lingering in the fabric \/ the one they\u2019d claim as their own \/ with no blankets left to share \/ i took the tilapia \/ red snappers \/ fresh from the sea \/ though i had no refrigerator \/ yet to keep them cold \/ i took the bicycle \/ i bought in \/ topanga canyon \/ with its blue lights \/ wrapped around \/ each wheel \/ but it\u2019s never felt the kiss \/ of pavement \/ never seen the darkness \/ of the streets \/ never caught the light \/ of day \/ it hasn\u2019t even touched \/ the ground \/beyond \/ the gravel beside the lot \/ where it was born \/ you don\u2019t need it \/ my parents tell me \/ but I have \/ to carry \/ these things \/ with me \/ everywhere I go \/ the memories folded in \/ the weight of them a comfort \/ and you can \/ it can\u2019t be discarded \/ won\u2019t be left behind \/ write them into the depths \/ of poem \/ you do that \/ right? \/ and give them \/ to someone else \/ so they may find \/ comfort in the borrowed \/ they\u2019ll find \/ they were never alone \/ that what we carry is never lost \/ but passed along \/ even time \/ even words \/ our parents breath \/ and everything \/ worth \/ having gains \/ when given \/ when we make \/ room \/ for more always comes.<\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n <\/div><\/div>\n\n\n\n\n \n \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n

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About the Winner<\/h2>\n

A South Los Angeles native, Shandela Contreras<\/a> is a senior studying creative writing<\/a> at USC Dornsife and occupational science at USC Chan Division of Occupational Science and Occupational Therapy. She started writing poetry in third grade and is a graduate of USC\u2019s Leslie and William McMorrow Neighborhood Academic Initiative<\/a>, a rigorous college access and success program.<\/p>\n

Her poem was inspired by the recent Los Angeles wildfires, which destroyed the homes of several close friends.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt was born out of my meditation on the fires, which took so much from this beautiful city and its people,\u201d she says. \u201cI reflected on the fact that, in life, there is always more to come. More could be anything: more joy, more kindness, more to give to others \u2014 more purpose. In this poem, I wanted to offer that possibility, that hope.\u201d<\/p>\n

A Powerful Voice<\/h3>\n

As a California Youth Poet Laureate Ambassador, Contreras has performed at venues such as Sacramento\u2019s California Volunteers College Corps launch with California Gov. Gavin Newsom, Los Angeles Master Chorale\u2019s \u201cI Believe\u201d concert in Walt Disney Concert Hall, New York City\u2019s Lincoln Center, and Paris\u2019 2024 Cultural Olympiad Sport + Poetry Games where she was a Los Angeles poet delegate.<\/p>\n

Author<\/h3>\n

Contreras is the author of the chapbook Mellow Ballads, that move your bones <\/em>(2021) and the collection Every Beautiful Pen Bleeds Through <\/em>(2024).<\/p>\n

What\u2019s Next?<\/h3>\n

Following graduation, Contreras plans to pursue careers in the publishing industry and as an author while finishing a master\u2019s degree in literary editing and publishing<\/a> at USC Dornsife.<\/p>\n

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From the Judges:<\/h3>\n

With her poem \u2018make room,\u2019 Shandela Contreras explores not only the depths of memory but also the depths of creative expression, which often draw from the same deep well. In just a few spare lines, she delineates the longing inherent in growing up, and the ache of what we keep and what we leave behind.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

David Ulin<\/strong><\/a>, professor of the practice of English<\/p>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n <\/div><\/div>\n\n\n\n\n \n \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n

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