Reviewed by Kate Champlin
Notes from the Ward is both a cultural meditation and a celebration of daily life and the world around us. Some poems capture the small kindnesses and small beauties that mark even the author’s darkest days. Others reflect on the author’s Filipina heritage or on examples of cultural racism. All showcase personal sources of support or uncover deeply personal stories of resistance.
In her powerful final poem, Tad-y imagines sitting down at the seaside with Kayne West and Baron Geisler, both BIPOC celebrities known to have bipolar disorder. She calls this imagined meeting to check on their mental health and share her own experiences. She begins by drawing a deep breath and centering herself in her surroundings. She proceeds in a way that acknowledges her companions’ needs and their shared concerns. As Tad-y puts it:
I’d take (yes, take) a breath and for a few seconds, let the ocean be ocean.
When I feel like we’re ready, I’d tell Geisler or West, without looking them in the eye which might threaten or confuse, I know I’m not looking pretty good myself, but how are you really doing, brother? (52)
The rest of Tad-y’s collection presents a similar dichotomy. Her poems acknowledge profoundly negative experiences while acknowledging the small beauties and gestures of support that make the world worth engagement. A poem which compares Tad-y’s mornings to “stale milk” and a “rotting tooth” also notes that her father sends her morning news to cheer her up (45). “Notes from the Ward #10” describes a psychological wound “so open” that it attracts fruit flies (41). The poem is dedicated to Aracelis Girmay, a poet who seems to carry “water for a wound.” Girmay’s work heals Tad-y through its sheer beauty and life lessons. Tad-y says that Girmay’s poetry has taught her to lift “my sorrow out of sorrow” (41, emphasis in original). “The Day I Lose My Job” says nothing about the job loss. Instead, it memorializes a kind neighbor who holds the door open for Tad-y and a neighborhood family enjoying karaoke. The same poem pauses to admire a trail of popcorn left near the garbage bins by hungry squirrels. Tad-y compares this little trail to “confetti in the dark” (6). The poem reminds us that even our worst days are still marked by beauty and human connection.
Other beauties and examples of kindness simply dot the collection like wildflowers or stars in the night sky. “Notes from the Ward #1” invites readers to share Tad-y’s joy in the “[m]auve and seafoam” socks she receives for her birthday (8). “Notes from the Ward #8” extols J, a psychiatric hospital orderly. J genuinely listens to patient stories and requests, saying only, “It is my job to treat you right” when he is questioned (32, emphasis in original). Tad-y both celebrates J’s kindness and admires his sense that kindness has (and is) a greater purpose. She wishes to make J’s purpose part of her own life.
“Notes from the Ward #5” chronicles a moment of support shared by the patients themselves:
We sat in a circle
passing time
in our paisley gowns
…
witnesses to one another’s
unsaid pressures,
painting each other’s nails. (20)
This scene of mutual acknowledgement and mutual support mirrors the author’s imagined meeting with Kayne West and Baron Geisler. In fact, this supportive circle is perhaps the inspiration for the author’s imagined meeting with the two celebrities. Here, as in Tad-y’s imagined meeting, several neurodivergent people offer each other mutual witnessing and simple moments of shared kindness. Such moments of mutual kindness among the neurodivergent patients occur throughout Notes from the Ward. These scenes indicate that peer support has been as (if not more) important to Tad-y’s recovery and emotional fulfillment as the support of mental health professionals.
Tad-y draws equal strength and support from her family and her family connection to the Philippines. Both sources of strength reappear in “Mangroves.” This poem centers on a tropical and coastal tree that is common in the Philippines. Tad-y declares:
My doctor says I’m a little manic. Instead of waves or the bellows of breath, I think of mangroves by the sea. How their roots are home to fish & crabs in need of refuge. I nestle there. …
My father places his hand on the headrest of my uncle in the driver seat and says, Families can be mangroves too. (27)
Another particularly powerful poem shows us Tad-y’s rebellion against racist beauty standards. In this case, Tad-y’s own actions are both the source of strength and the example that readers may emulate. Tad-y has become the poet whose ideas “carry water” for readers wounded by cultural racism. As Tad-y tells us:
When I was in high school, I splattered Pond’s whitening cream on my face. But I’d miss the neck. In Noli Me Tangere, Padre Damaso loses it at the bougie banquet when all he got apart from a bony wing was a bare neck in his bowl of Chicken Tinola. Since then, I wear my neck proudly. (17)
Notes from the Ward acts as a powerful example of resistance, of appreciating beauty, and of the simple kindnesses that make life worth living. Readers will look at the world with new understanding and perhaps emulate these examples. Regardless, Tad-y’s poems will gift readers with both strength and appreciation.
Title: Notes from the Ward
Author: Steffi Tad-y
Publisher: Gordon Hill Press
Date: 2025
Read Kate Champlin’s reviews of In the Bear’s House and Disabling Relations: Wounded Bodyminds and Transnational Praxis in this issue of Wordgathering.
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About the Reviewer
Kate Champlin (she/her) is a late-deafened adult and a graduate of Ball State University (Indiana). She currently works as a writing tutor and as a contract worker for BK International Education Consultancy, a company whose aim is to normalize the success of underserved students.