Poet finds voice after accident

Three years ago, doctors told Patricia Jones she would never read or write again. She and her husband had been hit by a car while riding their motorcycle in San Diego, Calif.

Jones, 34, who was diagnosed with aphasia — a disorder that causes loss or impairment of word comprehension — overcame the doctors’ prognosis. Now a senior at Stephens College, she went from not being able to read or write to being nominated recently for the Pushcart Prize after writing a poem about her experience with medical care. The prestigious award recognizes small presses and publications that specialize in fiction or poetry genres as well as limited edition books and magazines.

Earlier this fall, Jones’ advanced poetry professor at Stephens asked her to submit poems to magazines. She submitted “Doctor Kennedy” to Breath & Shadow, a magazine focused on disability literature. Though not every piece it publishes concerns disabilities, every piece is written and edited by people with disabilities.

“Doctor Kennedy” recounts Jones’ anger with a doctor who treated her after the motorcycle accident. In spring 2004, Jones woke up in a hospital to the man telling her that her husband was dying but that she couldn’t see him because her neck was broken.

“I completely threw a fit,” Jones said. “He had me sedated, and then I never saw him again.”

Her husband, Brian Jones, who studies engineering at Moberly Area Community College, survived the accident.

Jones said she wanted the poem to focus on the doctor’s lack of empathy but wanted people to see that lack of compassion exists elsewhere, too.

“That lack of compassion, if you start looking for it, you can see every day in just about every setting,” she said. “To me, it’s just not right, and to ignore it and not voice your opinion about it is wrong.”

Jones, who lives in Mexico, Mo., said she was a having a bad day when a letter came from Breath & Shadow. She didn’t open it because she thought it was only a thank you letter for submitting “Doctor Kennedy” and one other poem, and she already knew the work had been accepted for publication.

“I stuck all the mail aside,” Jones recalled. “I said, ‘I am not dealing with this.’”

But when she opened the letter later, she found instead that Breath & Shadow had nominated her for the Pushcart Prize.

“I totally, completely lost the words,” Jones said.

Even though it was midnight, her howling from excitement woke up her husband and 14-year-old son, Kyle.

Breath & Shadow’s editor, Sharon Wachsler, said this was the first year the magazine made nominations.

“I look for a piece that has stayed with me,” Wachsler said, “that I remember despite reading hundreds of poems in a year.”

Wachsler said “Doctor Kennedy” fit into that category.

“It has multiple layers yet is very accessible, including to people who don’t read poetry or who haven’t had an experience of severe physical or neurological trauma,” she said.

Since 1975, when the contest began, 8,000 poems and other literary works have been nominated annually. Thirty winners each are chosen from the prose and poetry categories. The winning pieces are published in an annual book, “The Pushcart Prize: The Best of the Small Presses.”

“Receiving this nomination is, in itself, a remarkable accomplishment and is an especially extraordinary accomplishment for an undergraduate,” said Judith Clark, chair of Stephens’ English and creative writing department.

“Doctor Kennedy” was the first poem Jones had written since high school, when she wrote a love poem for her husband.

“Doctor Kennedy” originally had 48 lines, but the published version was 22 lines long — the result of editing in class and at the magazine.

“It has been gratifying to see the published version of her poem,” said Terry Song, Jones’ poetry professor, “and how far it evolved from the fledging draft she first brought to the poetry workshop class.”

Jones said she had always wanted to go to medical school, partially to make a difference to other people. An older undergraduate, she was a semester away from entering a pre-medical program when the accident happened. She entered the creative writing English program as therapy because she couldn’t afford formal therapy; through scholarships and grants Stephens covered her tuition.

“I thought, ‘I’ll do this for a year, and if I get really good at it, I’ll go back to medical school,’ but I absolutely fell in love with language,” she said.

Additionally, Jones learned medical school wouldn’t be possible because of seizures resulting from the accident.

“I can still make a difference in people’s lives,” she said. “People are still listening to me, and I have something to say that’s worthwhile.”