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Foreign. I'm Maggie Smith, and this is the Slowdown. The noun alien has multiple meanings. One definition is an extraterrestrial, like ET from the classic Spielberg film, a creature from another planet. Another definition is a person from a foreign country. Both definitions describe someone who is an outsider. The adjective alien means strange or foreign. Some dictionary definitions even lend it a more negative connotation, unfamiliar and disturbing. What all of these definitions have in common is otherness. The language suggests a lack of belonging and even a lack of being welcome in a place. I think as humans we have a familiarity bias, which is to say we have an ugly knack for rejecting difference. No wonder people new to a place try to assimilate, to blend in. Today's poem dreams its way into an imagined scenario, finding oneself on this planet an alien, a stranger, and doing one's best to be seen as belonging so as to stay leave taking By Rita Dove from the Retirement Annals I was sitting at home with my daughter, who was young again, a child with a child's wish to do things over and over. So when she named an old film even I liked. We popped in the disc and sat back to watch until daughter and living room faded. That is, I kept watching, but the movie began to dream. I became a stranger, set down on earth in the late 20th century at a pool in midsummer, everyone with towels slung over their shoulders, children splashing each other, cackling as they kicked the blue water. Beyond this activity a field stretched green until it reached an end and began to climb gently, sloping skyward like a Runway to heaven. I was waiting. I knew they were coming over the hill. I knew the moment I stepped out onto the grass I too would disappear. What a curious sensation, being the stranger. If I thought about it too long, I would be seen for what I was, but try too hard to blend in. I might forget myself and miss my pickup and be stranded forever. Oh, I liked humans well enough, although they were immature, the old ones dreaming the same dreams to the end, the young ones trying to forget they were headed there too, always fretting over their bodies, working out, cursing and cooing. Yes, I was homesick. I walked toward the slope, towel draped around my neck like a human but not thinking of humanity, not fitting in. I heard something, a gasp, and glanced back at a child in a shiny pink suit who stood staring, nudging her mother as she pointed my way. No, I thought, not now I could feel them. I whipped my towel in the air as if snapping at gnats, but kept walking. And then the dune buggy puttered over the hill, and just like in the movies, and just like anyone might, I stepped onto the grass. Suddenly all the humans were staring at me, or maybe the idea of us before I was zipped up and we were lifting into the universe, pouring into our true shapes, translucence, then nothing at all. The Slowdown is a production of American Public Media in partnership with the Poetry Foundation. To get a poem delivered to you daily, go to slowdownshow.org and sign up for our newsletter. Find us on Instagram, LodownShow and Bluesky. Slowdownshow.org the Slowdown is written by me, Maggie Smith. Our lead producer is Micah Kielbon, and our associate producer is Maria Wortel. Our music is composed by Kyle Andrews, engineering by Derek Ramirez. Our editor is Joanne Griffith. Additional production help by Susanna Sharpless, Cece Lucas, Marcel Malakibu, and Lauren Humpert. Our executives in charge are Chandra Kavati and Mark Crowley. Maggie here, host of the Slowdown. Listening to and reading poetry helps us find our footing in an uncertain world, especially during challenging times. You can help keep these moments of poetry and reflection going by making a gift today. Visit slowdownshow.org donate.
Host: Maggie Smith
Episode 1401: “LeaveTaking” by Rita Dove
Date: November 21, 2025
In this episode, host Maggie Smith uses the poem “LeaveTaking” by Rita Dove to explore the concept of alienation, belonging, and the universal human experience of feeling like an outsider. Smith reflects on language—particularly the word “alien”—and its connotations, before reading Dove’s vivid, evocative poem, which envisions the nuances of otherness through a dreamlike lens.
On feeling out of place:
“What a curious sensation, being the stranger. If I thought about it too long, I would be seen for what I was, but try too hard to blend in. I might forget myself and miss my pickup and be stranded forever.” — Rita Dove, read by Maggie Smith [04:20]
A wry observation of humanity:
“Oh, I liked humans well enough, although they were immature, the old ones dreaming the same dreams to the end, the young ones trying to forget they were headed there too, always fretting over their bodies, working out, cursing and cooing.” — Rita Dove, read by Maggie Smith [05:00]
On the climactic return:
“Suddenly all the humans were staring at me, or maybe the idea of us before I was zipped up and we were lifting into the universe, pouring into our true shapes, translucence, then nothing at all.” — Rita Dove, read by Maggie Smith [06:05]
On the function of poetry:
“Poetry is one of the greatest tools we have to wield our own attention — to consider our own lives and the lives of others, to help us live creatively and compassionately, to use that attention to lean into wonder, and joy, and truth, and to find hope — to keep hoping.” — Maggie Smith [00:00]*
(from podcast description and echoed in Smith’s closing remarks)
On the universality of alienation:
“No wonder people new to a place try to assimilate, to blend in.” — Maggie Smith [02:45]
On dreaming and empathy:
Smith’s introduction and the poem itself invite listeners to step into another’s perspective and to embrace the potential of “dreaming our way” into understanding.
Maggie Smith’s delivery is gentle, reflective, and deeply compassionate. She guides listeners with warmth and thoughtfulness, attuned both to the poetry and to the universal themes of belonging and difference.
This episode of The Slowdown gently steers listeners toward empathy through asking what it’s like to feel strange, alien, or out of place. By layering careful reflection with Rita Dove’s luminous poem, Smith encourages us to notice the “others” among us and, perhaps, discover our own standing on that boundary of belonging.
Note: Adverts, intros, and outro production credits omitted per guidelines.