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| One of my writing classes at the John C. Campbell Folk School in 2016 |
My students, four women and one man, have learned so much about writing personal essays or creative nonfiction, that I am blown away with the stories they write. Almost every one is publishable and I hope it will be shared with others because the writers have a message that will relate to many readers.
Some write about painful experiences, and people who have hurt them. I encourage my students to make the reader feel their pain using words they choose.
Another’s pain is not funny and is hurtful. In our culture today, comedians make fun of and disparage others to get laughs. Cruel humor is popular and not smart, in my opinion. Humiliating and shaming others is mean-spirited and not entertaining either. When people feel comfortable in a group, they will write about these things, and it is often cathartic. My students try to make each piece entertaining as well as enlightening.
We have stories about family pets. In these classes, the students write about themselves, and other people in their lives. They often express feelings they might have never shown before.
I gave them a prompt requiring them to make lists. They list people; family, friends, teachers, people who hurt them, and people who were good to them. They list places where they lived, and where they visited. From the lists, they find they recall memories often buried in time, but spark their creative minds to write a story.
One of the stories was so touching it almost made me cry.
A woman came to this country and after nineteen years gained her citizenship. She had hoped for dual citizenship but at the time,
that was not available. She was elated and excited to become a citizen of the
United States and happy that she could vote in the next presidential election.
This was back in the nineties.
She registered to vote immediately after becoming a citizen. This wife and mother is a perfect citizen in her community. She volunteers at schools and other places where her community needs her.
The writer of this story comes from European ancestors like
many who came and settled in this country.
She stood in line and waited for her ballot to vote in
the presidential election along with many others. But when she reached the
table to pick up her ballot, she was told she could not vote.
She felt the prejudice. She was embarrassed. She stood her ground and would not leave. “I am registered to vote,” she told the woman behind the table laden with paper forms.
There is more to the story and how
rude the election workers were to her, but she insisted she be allowed to call and
get verification of her registration. She had to use the phone at the voting
area and one person refused to help her, but another gave her the number to
call.
This writer said she has empathy for black people who have often gone through this kind of humiliation and rejection. She was the subject of outright prejudice.
Although she is Caucasian and fair-skinned, she had to fight to get her
opportunity to vote. She assumed the prejudice was due to her accent, although she
speaks perfect English. I wonder how many people had this kind of treatment in
the recent election.
I urge my students to enlighten the reader as well as
entertain and inform. She said she never goes in to vote that the memory of
that day doesn’t come back and hurt her. We all connected with this
lovely person who shed tears as she read the ending of her story.
I don’t know why I am so fortunate to have these
interesting and intelligent students in my classes, but I look forward to each time
we gather and enjoy seeing the bond grow between the students as they learn
more and more about each other.
Next Tuesday night will be the last of the three classes
in this session. I told the group that I would not teach again for a while, but they
were insistent that I do not wait too long as they want more classes. That makes
me smile.
