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Call to Mind Narrator
Anxiety, depression, bipolar disorder. At least half of us will experience a mental illness in our lifetime. In a new series of special reports from Call to Mind, we hear about the mental health impact of stress, climate change, immigration and more. Tune in for conversations with people managing hardship and experts seeking solutions. Listen to Call to Mind from American Public Media.
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Maggie Smith
I'm Maggie Smith, and this is the Slowdown. So many sayings, metaphors and idioms deal with vision the same way the heart is as much a symbol of feeling as it is an organ in the body. Vision is used to refer to thinking as much as it is to seeing. Figuratively, vision refers to mental perception, or the ability to anticipate what might happen in the future, to look ahead, so to speak. You can catch someone's eye. Just keep your eye on someone and see eye to eye or not. The problem with using these metaphors is they can easily slip into ableist language, linguistic microaggressions against people with disabilities. These phrases become so baked into our thinking we don't even realize that they're harmful. But that just means we need to be more conscientious about the language we use. I try to avoid phrases like the blind, leading the blind and turning a blind eye. For this reason, the connotations are negative, and so is the message they send to people with disabilities. I have to believe that we poets can use language in a kinder and more accurate way. Poets use language the way an artist uses paint, the way sculptors use clay. It's our material. We have to use it wisely, not only as craftspeople but as humans who care about others. The way today's poem talks about vision and vision problems is original and vulnerable and full of nuance. It uses the idea of vision to speak not only into the future but also into the past. Liquefying by Chloe Yelena Miller your eyes liquefy with age, my ophthalmologist. I saw a flock of birds taking off, but only in the corner of one eye. Then flickering lights, a half moon, a swaying line, blurred my vision like an inefficient eraser. Doctor says the line isn't the line, but a shadow of the line. I learn the vitreous humor, not funny at all, liquefies with age. Vitreous from the Latin glassy. I need those eyes, the ones that are not glass or even fully jelly like anymore. I need them to write this, to hear, even as I misunderstand the doctor's words. While my eyes are dilated, pupils widened like open patios for the doctor to see into, but useless for me. The dilation breaks my eyes. My senses rely on one another. If a curtain lowers and blackens the room, head to the er. If lights flash like cameras, you know, like the old fashioned cameras, head to the error. Maybe something has ripped or torn, or maybe not. Maybe it is an ocular migraine, or maybe nothing at all. You need us to look. The specialist shines lights into my eyes, the kind of brightness we are told to look away from, the kind of lights children in old movies use with mirrors to burn holes into paper or kill bugs. I remember my aunt's eyes always tearing, liquefied, I guess, at a hundred and two. I wonder what she saw, shadows or otherwise. What was her view? She often looked past us, like our child, close in our arms sometimes did as an infant. The Slowdown is 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. And find us on Instagram, Slash Slow down Show and bluesky@slowdownshow.org.
Call to Mind Narrator
Anxiety, depression, bipolar disorder. At least half of us will experience a mental illness in our lifetime. In a new series of special reports from Call to Mind, we hear about the mental health impact of stress, climate change, immigration and more. Tune in for conversations with people managing hardship and experts seeking solutions. Listen to Call to Mind from American Public Media.
Episode 1517: "Liquefying" by Chloe Yelena Miller
Host: Maggie Smith
Date: May 18, 2026
This episode centers on the language of vision—how metaphors and idioms about seeing shape our perceptions and, sometimes unintentionally, perpetuate ableist ideas. Host Maggie Smith reflects on the power (and responsibility) poets carry with their choice of words, especially when dealing with themes of disability, perception, and care. The episode’s featured poem, “Liquefying” by Chloe Yelena Miller, is an intimately vulnerable meditation on aging, ocular health, and the shifting boundaries of inner and outer vision.
On Unconscious Language Use:
"These phrases become so baked into our thinking we don't even realize that they're harmful. But that just means we need to be more conscientious about the language we use."
— Maggie Smith (01:30)
On Artistic Responsibility:
"Poets use language the way an artist uses paint, the way sculptors use clay. It's our material. We have to use it wisely, not only as craftspeople but as humans who care about others."
— Maggie Smith (02:02)
On Medical Reality in Poetic Form:
"I need those eyes, the ones that are not glass or even fully jelly like anymore. I need them to write this, to hear, even as I misunderstand the doctor's words."
— Chloe Yelena Miller, “Liquefying” (03:00)
Vivid Imagery of Diagnosis:
"The specialist shines lights into my eyes, the kind of brightness we are told to look away from, the kind of lights children in old movies use with mirrors to burn holes into paper or kill bugs."
— Chloe Yelena Miller, “Liquefying” (03:59)
Smith and Miller’s perspectives amplify the daily practice of poetry as an act of attention and compassion. They invite listeners to not only savor language but critically reconsider its power and undertones, especially regarding disability. "Liquefying" becomes both an intimate medical vignette and a gentle meditation on aging, memory, and how we see—literally and figuratively.