Stacy Russo is a California poet, writer, and artist who is committed to creating books and art for a more peaceful world. She serves as librarian and associate professor at Santa Ana College. Stacy's books have been featured on National Public Radio, Pacifica Radio, the Canadian Broadcasting System, Sirius XM Radio, KCET Artbound, LA Weekly, and various other media channels. Her publications include A Better World Starts Here: Activists and Their Work (Sanctuary Publishers); Love Activism (Litwin Books); We Were Going to Change the World: Interviews with Women from the 1970s/1980s Southern California Punk Rock Scene (Santa Monica Press); Life as Activism: June Jordan’s Writings from The Progressive (Litwin Books); and The Library as Place in California(McFarland). She holds degrees from the University of California, Berkeley; Chapman University; and San Jose State University. Stacy lives in Southern California with her beautiful German shepherd rescue dog Joni. Visit www.love-activism.com to contact Stacy and discover more about her projects.
Howling with Wolves
At the Montana sanctuary the wolves were shedding their fur. A large majestic alpha male named Comanche would give me a sideways glance when I approached their area. I arrived there two decades after reading Women Who Run with the Wolves and I was ready. The day before my departure I recorded a howling with them while wearing my favorite red hat. Once they start, you can keep them going with an imitation howl. If you ever get the chance, you should go for it. Something warms up and expands in your heart and lungs. The morning I left I stopped along the fence. Comanche came over first and pushed his body up as close as he could get to me. This made the others gather around, since I was nothing to fear. Mixed in with the wet dirt were wisps of fur that I scooped up and put in the front pocket of my jeans. I drove from Bozeman to Billings and then on to Wyoming and South Dakota with the wolf fur in my travel bag on the passenger seat. I liked dipping my fingers in there and feeling it. On the plane back to Los Angeles, I kept the fur close to me as one would a precious, rare gem.