We caught up with the brilliant and insightful Stephen Verges a few weeks ago and have shared our conversation below.

Stephen, looking forward to hearing all of your stories today. What’s been the most meaningful project you’ve worked on?

The most meaningful project I ever worked on, though recent, bears the culmination of an aspiration I have harbored since childhood—the desire to make a difference. As a young boy, then as a teenager, and now as an adult, I have long sought to contribute to the world in a manner that transcends the immediate and the personal. It was this year, teaching Spanish at Dundalk Middle School, a Title I institution by the waterfront near Baltimore, that I found the opportunity to realize this enduring dream.

Our school, like many others of its kind, suffered from chronic underfunding. The material poverty of the institution mirrored the dire circumstances of many of my students. Yet, amid these constraints, there arose a singular chance to expand their horizons through a project that would cross geographical and cultural frontiers.

For a lesson on a UNESCO Heritage site in Catalonia, Spain, I conceived a project centered on the Semana Santa of Verges, known for its ‘Processó de Verges,’ the Dance of Death. This ancient Catalonian street theater, a relic of the Middle Ages, symbolizes the intersection of two great themes: the Black Plague and the Easter passion. Repressed under Franco for its distinctly Catalonian identity, the procession has endured as a unique cultural phenomenon. To my students, however, it held an even more immediate appeal—celebrating Halloween during Easter.

The students immersed themselves in this distant tradition, rendering watercolors of the Procession and performing a vocabulary rap to capture its essence. The culmination of their work came not in the classroom but on a much larger stage. We sent digital images of their artwork to the UNESCO site, and they, in turn, shared them with Catalonia Public Television. To our astonishment, the students’ work was broadcast to an audience of 3.1 million viewers, part of a three-hour special that featured interviews with Shakira, Prince Charles, and the Pope. The recognition did not end there. Congressman Kwesi Mfume of Maryland honored the project with a Congressional Citation, a testament to the pride and dedication of my students.

In the wake of the school year, my wife Zorana and I journeyed across the Atlantic aboard the Queen Mary 2, making our way to Verges to express our gratitude in person. What began as a lesson plan, a modest project in a school with no funding, had far-reaching consequences, both for my students and for myself. It is this project, more than any other, that I hold as a testament to the power of education, imagination, and perseverance. In it, I found not merely an academic exercise, but the fulfillment of a lifelong aspiration to make a difference. https://www.3cat.cat/3cat/video/6273869/embed/

Stephen, love having you share your insights with us. Before we ask you more questions, maybe you can take a moment to introduce yourself to our readers who might have missed our earlier conversations?

When W.S. Merwin was leaving the Navy, he found himself in a peculiar state of uncertainty, having no defined occupation to claim as his future path. I recall reading Merwin’s account of this period, where his commanding officer, in a manner reminiscent of Socratic inquiry, sought to uncover Merwin’s next steps in life. Merwin, when questioned, could provide no concrete answer, for he had none. He had neither a vocation nor even the semblance of a calling. Yet, in this very void of certainty, Merwin began the slow process of reinvention.

It is fascinating to observe how Merwin, out of this ambiguity, forged an entirely new identity for himself. He turned to poetry, a craft in which he excelled, eventually producing what I regard as his greatest work, Green with Beasts. This collection, filled with vitality and a profound connection to the natural world, represents the triumph of self-invention. As a veteran of the Second World War, Merwin would go on to become the United States Poet Laureate, a position of great honor in the literary world.

Merwin’s journey, however, carries a lesson far beyond the accolades of his later years. Like Merwin, I am a staunch advocate of reinvention and self-invention, believing that the most valuable skill one can possess is the ability to cultivate a multitude of talents. To polymath, as I would call it, is to embrace the vastness of human potential, mastering as many disciplines as one’s capacity allows. It is equally important to recognize that there may be moments in life when it is necessary to pause, reflect, and reinvent oneself. Even if one’s immediate superiors or colleagues cannot foresee the greatness that lies ahead, as in Merwin’s case, the pursuit of personal transformation remains invaluable.

In Merwin’s trajectory, we witness the profound potential of reinvention. To shift from the aimlessness of his post-Navy days to the heights of poetic grandeur is to embody the very essence of creative evolution. It is a reminder that, regardless of the external pressures to conform to preordained roles, there is always room for the creation of something new, something profoundly one’s own.

Looking back, are there any resources you wish you knew about earlier in your creative journey?

Yes, the quote and life slogan: Love conquers all

Can you share a story from your journey that illustrates your resilience?

I grew up with a stepfather, Benjamin Sonnenberg, a man deeply immersed in the literary world, publishing countless writers and thinkers of note. Yet, for many years, I lost touch with him. My own path diverged into a series of disparate vocations—bicycle messenger, roadie for the Bad Brains, a First Responder during the September 11 attacks, and eventually a service member. In 2003, while serving overseas, I suffered a traumatic eye injury, which brought me back to the United States, to Walter Reed Army Hospital. It was during this period of physical and emotional upheaval that I reconnected with Benjamin, who, by then, was dying from multiple sclerosis.

Benjamin passed away, leaving behind not only the memory of his personal fortitude but also his legacy in the literary world. As I began vocational rehabilitation at Georgetown University, I found myself reflecting on the lessons he had imparted to me during my childhood—how he had taught me to read and write, the very foundation of all intellectual pursuits. His work, too, served as a testament to the power of perseverance. Even while incapacitated by MS, he managed to fund his literary quarterly, Grand Street, through the sale of 19 Gramercy Park, a feat of sheer will and dedication to literature.

There were moments during my time at Georgetown when I came perilously close to quitting. My eye injury was progressing into permanent blindness, and the burden of balancing academic life with the encroaching shadow of disability was nearly insurmountable. Yet, in those moments of despair, I would think of Benjamin. He had not failed me in providing the most fundamental elements of my education, despite his own physical limitations. I realized then that to quit would have been a failure not only of myself but of the example he had set—an example of continuing one’s work, one’s purpose, even in the face of bodily decline.

Looking back, it becomes clear that what kept me from abandoning my studies was not merely a sense of obligation to my education, but a deeper, almost moral commitment to the memory of Benjamin. He had shown me that intellectual and creative pursuits could, and should, persist, regardless of physical adversity. And so, I continued, because to give up would have been to fail the person who had refused to fail me.

Contact Info:

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Image Credits

Photos are of Verges, Spain
My wife Zorana Grdjic
Dundalk Middle School & Congressional Citation
Stephen Verges and Catalonia Public Television
The Verges heritage site showing Catalonia Public Television our project material