Rebecca Evans
Poet, Essayist, Warrior
Biography
Memoirist, essayist, and poet Rebecca Evans’ Safe Handling, a collection-length poem, weaves family and heartbreak while navigating our challenging medical industry. Her memoir in verse, Tangled by Blood, bridges motherhood and betrayal, untangling wounds and restoring what it means to be a mother.
Evans writes the difficult, the guidebooks for survivors. Her poems and essays have appeared in Narratively, The Rumpus, Brevity, Hypertext Magazine, War, Literature & the Arts, The Limberlost Review, and more. She’s earned two MFAs, one in creative nonfiction, the other in poetry, from the University of Nevada, Reno at Lake Tahoe. She’s co-edited an anthology of poems, When There Are Nine, a tribute to the life and achievements of Ruth Bader Ginsburg (Moon Tide Press, 2022), She teaches high school teens in the juvenile justice system through journaling and art projects and co-hosts Radio Boise’s “Writer to Writer” show. Rebecca is disabled, a military veteran, and shares space with four Newfoundlands and her sons. She does her best writing in a hidden alcove beneath her stairway.
What is the relationship between Judaism and/or Jewish culture and your poetry?
Oh! This relationship. This notion of “being” a Jew and a poet at the same time. I wasn’t raised
in an observant home. I like to say that I was raised “confused” and “dysfunctional.” And, by
definition, those would be generous sentiments.
I’m Jewish because my mother is Jewish and her mother before her. My observation and
understanding of Jewish culture have proven a slow and steady brew for me that has spanned
decades.
I’d include “Kabbalist” as an additional identity tag. Kabbalah holds the mystical, mysterious
interpretations of the Talmud, Torah, and ancient texts. Over the years, my study and practice as
a Kabbalist have pushed me to seek meaning between the lines of what is written, extend to
understand what is left unspoken, and search for symbolism in imagery.
You know, poetry.
I meditate on how this aligns and feels within my physical body.
I see myself, no, believe myself a vessel. A bag of skin housing my soul.
If I believe this, then every thought, word, or deed must be filtered through this lens.
And if I believe this as my truth, then every movement—gardening, roasting, bed-making, sock-
matching, driving, parenting—should be attempted with the intention to honor my journey as a
Jewish-Kabbalistic-kosher-keeping-single-parenting-disabled human.
I’ve tried to create awareness before reaction, before spoken word. So how could my Jewish-
ness-es not find infusion into my writings?
I’ve always approached writing as a method to make sense of my life. While “making sense”
(what does THAT mean, anyway?), I hope to find meaning in the hardship and happiness,
lessons in the rejections and battles.
It feels as though my art begins much like archeology –digging or picking away a scab or
hangnail or nagging image – penning in my journal, trailing one word and then another down the
page. All the while, absent of the editor or judge or witness. Just me and me.
Sometimes, in this journaling, I might discover a trinket that has helped me understand me, or
helped slow the bleeding of some deep wound. If I do AND if I’m brave, I’ll offer the piece for
submission – with the hope that it will be received as a gift – one heart to another. Perhaps the
salve in my words might alleviate another of their own suffering. Or perhaps help someone else
feel less alone.
In Jewish culture, one might call this a mitzvah – a good deed. Or maybe, gemilut hasadim – acts
of loving kindness. All acts that are central to Torah teaching.
Does the behavior need defining or a term?
What matters most is the lack of division – between me, the Jewish-Kabbalist and me, the Poet. I
cannot escape what I am built of – the mystical and mysterious marinades in my thoughts, stirs
into soil beneath my feet, stumbles from my tongue when I over-offer advice.
This lens of mine informs every word on the page, perhaps more than I know in the moment of
penning. Perhaps more than I might ever truly understand.
Published Works
Tangled by Blood (Moon Tide Press, 2023)
when there are nine (Moon Tide Press, 2022)
Abrazos & Letters from the Self to the World (DoveTales, 2021)
Poetic Bond X (Willowdown Books, 2020)
Hope for Recovery (Brown-Tinker Books, 2019)
Our World, Your Place (Willowdown Books, 2018)
Take a Mind Trip (Scribes Valley Publishing, 2018)
Links to Sample Works
- Hypertext Magazine, “Meat & Dairy”
- Passenger Journal, “A Soft Food Diet Doesn’t Always Heal the Heart”
