My Name Is (Poem) by Marek Desai, age 11

From Skipping Stones
July-August 2026

My Name Is...

My name is Marek and I am in fifth grade.
My name is Marek and I am Czech,
With Czech grandparents and a Czech class grade,
With Czech relatives who I know by name.

My name is Marek and I am Nepali. 

I love the momos our family friends make, 

The curries, the meats, the vegetables with rice. 

My name is Marek and I am Indian. 

The poojas, the colors, the dosas are great. 

My name is Marek and I am American, 

I like high fives and ten-lane freeways. 

My name is Marek and when you look at me, 

You might not see much of the cultures that are mixed. 

But when I start talking, what’s hidden comes out. 

Then you can see who really is ‘me.’ 

So when I watch other people, I like to think: 

‘Who really are these people all the way in?’ 

What cultures, interests, and ideas do they keep within? 

I like to find out, to ask them and see, 

And that way they can also learn about me. 

—Marek Desai, age 11, grade 5, California

Exit Velocity

It's been a slow but expansive 4th of July weekend. I've prioritized yoga and reconnecting with a dear friend. The house is clean. Washing the towels now (once every 2 months whether they need it or not!). I've weeded. Watered. Finished a puzzle. Cooked a backup meal for next week. 

I still need to go grocery shopping, and this afternoon is drinks with a friend from out-of-town. And time to journal. (What?!?)

At the end of a yoga class last week, a woman told the instructor that she appreciates that the teacher "creates time" in her class. And it's true. Her classes are not long, not short, not slow, not fast. There's just a sense of present, presence, now that stretches far longer than it possible can. "You're bending the 4th dimension!" the student complimented. 

This weekend feels like that. Puttering and accomplishing one thing after another when there's nowhere to be stretches time. 

I've been focusing in yoga on finding ease in the poses once I've reached my edge. I want to push myself to grow, but I have more to learn about relaxing and letting joy find me (or rather feeling the joy that has been there all along, waiting for me to notice). 

My kids sometimes tease me when I'm in a good mood: "Oh, it's FUN mom." As though she doesn't show up very often. Usually on family trips after we've escaped the chaos of exit trajectory, achieved escape velocity, and reached the Kármán line. We escape the atmosphere of home and enter spaaaaaaaaaaace. And I find my smile.