Something about the word “outreach” has always left me in despair. The word implies such a distance. It betrays an unfortunate truth. We often fail to think of ourselves—those of us who would make the stretch—as living in community with those whom we place at arm’s length. Stephen Haff has found a solution simple and elegant, as revolutionary ideas tend to be. At Still Waters, I wasn’t asked to read to the children. At Still Waters I was welcomed by the children. We played together. We ate together. We read and, yes, we wrote together. Still Waters refuses the formality of the visiting writer. I felt I was more than a guest there. The children (and Stephen) reached out to me, and reminded me that I was already at home.

Gregory Pardlo