I climbed through a thicket of angst last night before I fell asleep last night. It was the email I had opened-- a friendly request to collect Slice of Life blog links to share with our department. This message did not have thorns, it was sent with the intention of building spirit. It was an olive branch, leafy and fruited. But I leaned back into my own woody tangle of brush and dwelled on my reticence to expose my writing.
My students write, and we have a tradition of posting. It is not they who write, but we who write. If I ask them to write personal narratives, I try it too. Literary essays? Sure, I'll write one of my own. I challenge them to write slices of life, and I here I am since 2010, writing slices of life. We don't criticize, we connect. We don't sneer, we support. I've been aware of their vulnerability, and when I detect stress, I give them options: Share with a smaller group. Share with me. Just share. "Your voice matters," I've said. Then, when I'm invited to share my writing with my peers, I retreat.
Let's unpack that," my group of kindred writing spirits might press. I was shy as a child. I am shy now. My mother was an English teacher, and that's a lot of pressure. I spoke up with some embarrassingly wrong answers somewhere along the way. Cringe. My monthly writing group, my trusted audience, have bonded over SOLSC annual challenge. What a source of pleasure it's been over the years, but I'll admit, that for some of those years, I've taken breaks from Two Writing Teachers. I've chosen to share my posts with my group of four, and that was all. This year, I'm back and several of my colleagues are in. Hence, the angst.
"It's not what you write. It's that you write," Such words of wisdom sent by text this morning cut the brambles back substantially. Not long after, I made my confession to another friend in hopes that we may hold back the links together. And her response?
Be brave.
She's right. Writing exposes. It leaves us feeling vulnerable, whether it is the complexity of ideas or use of who vs. whom. Our past experiences may shape our confidence, but the present moment carries a special responsibility. I would never turn away a writer, no matter his or her skills, who arrived on my shores, and I will expect the same in return.
Gone is the thicket--it's time to let the leaves and the fruit grow in its place. Write and be brave. Then sleep well.
I wish you loads of courage and buckets of bravery! This is my first time slicing, my first time blogging, my first time putting my writing out in public, and I am shockingly shy about it. In fact, I only told my sisters about my blog today. My sisters! Still, you say it well: "Our past experiences may shape our confidence, but the present moment carries a special responsibility." Also, "Write and be brave." I will be thinking of you in days to come as you share with a new audience. Write and be brave.
ReplyDeleteI knew you would!
ReplyDelete“Be Brave” should be our department motto. You know I love not only the raw honesty of this post, but also the lyrical beauty of it. You are not alone in your initial reticence. I try to cleave to the notion that there is power in community, ending with your words, “We don't criticize, we connect. We don't sneer, we support.” A true gem of a post!
ReplyDeleteNot only are you a gifted writer but you are a brave soul. I am proud to live in a world where you write.
ReplyDeleteOh so me too me too. Your one-time English teaching mother - now being taught by inspired and inspiring you!
ReplyDelete