WOODLAND HILLS : Youngster Finds Solace in Writing Poetry

It was the biggest night of his life.

Fernando Vega, a slightly built 10-year-old with a double-pierced ear and dark hair neatly groomed with gel, handed what was left of his cola to his 12-year-old brother Alex and approached the podium with the tiniest hint of a swagger in his step.

Facing his first audience of nearly three dozen adults at the Artspace Gallery in Woodland Hills, Fernando read four sparsely written poems in a clear voice. He paused briefly between them, grinning as the audience applauded in approval.

“Just me in a little dark, cold room,” he read from one poem. “Only me and my little sad self.”

Fernando, who receives counseling for disruptive behavior and fighting at Canoga Park Elementary School, reads and writes about three grade levels below his classmates. Yet his poetry, which is written in simple but evocative prose, seems to come from a voice much older than his own.

Administrators at the school arranged Fernando’s appearance at a monthly poetry reading, hoping the exposure would encourage him to continue writing. Teachers and administrators from Canoga Park accompanied Fernando to the event, but Alex was the only family member who could attend.

Fernando doesn’t have to look far to find material for his poems.

He lives with his grandmother and two siblings in Canoga Park, while his mother lives in Mission Hills trying to readjust to society after seven years in jail. Fernando has not seen his real father for five years and the man he considered his stepfather died in the boy’s arms from a seizure last year.

“He feels like no one loves him--like no one cares,” said Stephanie Penniman, Fernando’s fifth-grade teacher, who brought his poetry to the attention of school administrators. “He has a very negative self-image.”

Fernando, who said he prefers to write his poetry at school, spends his afternoons and evenings collecting insects in his back yard, riding his bike or watching television.

In his most recent poem, written Friday, Fernando tells the story of Martin, the man who lived with his mother and who he considered his stepfather. Martin died a year ago as Fernando held him.

“His heart stops beating. I start to shake him,” the poem reads. “A soul leaves out of my arms.”

Fernando said the poem made his teacher cry.

“I like writing poetry,” he said. “I like to share my feelings with others. It makes me feel glad of myself.”

How I Feel

I feel lonely,

Sometimes sad. Ask me how I feel I’ll say “Lonely.”

But do you care? No or yes? Do you know how it feels...

Your mother not loving you?

Or a grandmother?

I know what love is from a cat,

A dog, a lizard, a bird, a snake, a turtle,

Five frogs--

Not a person. I learned that animals love me more

Than a person. --Fernando Vega