Tuesday, July 4, 2017

If I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times

One of the interesting aspects of teaching composition and trying to support my own writing life is that the lessons I so often try to impart on my students are essentially the same that I return to in my own writing year after year.

This morning I'm rereading Judith Barrington's book, Writing the Memoir, and I have come back to the idea, yet again, that my primary struggle is not about the lack of time to write, or the lack of interesting material, or even a lack of training and practice, but that I doubt that I have anything interesting to say or that anyone would care to read it.

This became a huge stumbling block during my first project period in grad school. My mentor gave me some feedback early on that I mis-interpreted. She was asking me to decide exactly what point I wanted to make in an essay, to focus in on that idea and then expand the story around it. But I internalized a different criticism. I heard her saying "So what? Why would we want to read about your life?" I was hearing what Natalia Rachel Singer refers to as "who cares?"

This fear, that no one will care, comes back to me again this summer as I dive into a new memoir project. I have often toyed with the idea of a full-length memoir; it is something I feel a strong pull toward, and something that brings up so much fear that I push myself away. I struggle with structure and focus, much like when I plot the day-to-day plans of an entire 17-week semester that will creatively and academically nourish my students. The questions are never-ending: What should I write? What should I focus on? What voice should I use? What is safe to reveal? What should stay hidden? Why would anyone outside of my circle of family, friends and students want to read this?

The shortened version of a potentially larger memoir has already been published at StoryScape Journal. It's a pretty funny piece. But a full-length memoir likely wouldn't be, and of course I worry that if it's not funny, no one will care.

My students often face a similar struggle. They worry that they won't have anything interesting to say, that they have nothing to offer the conversation, that no reader will be interested in their story. They tip-toe around sensitive or painful ideas or memories. They play with words, allude to some happening then back off and wax philosophical. If I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times: don't dance around the subject, say it. Don't question the validity of the idea, memory, or trauma, write about it honestly.

Yep, teachers and students; we have the same struggles.

3 comments:

Lisa R. said...

I am continually struck by (and grateful for) the synchronicity between teaching and my own art practice. I also agree that self-doubt can be crippling on any level. As I tell my students (and try to believe for myself), successful creative expression requires an embrace of the possibility of failure and the willingness to do the thing that feels hardest. That said, I for one really hope you do power through and write that full length memoir. Everyone has a story that is worth caring about and those who are able to express their experience help others who cannot. You never know who you will touch with your words but for sure you will lift yourself up by claiming your truth.

Ginny Buccelli said...

Your insight is, as always, welcome and brilliant. Thank you.

Victoria said...

Hi Ginny - Come on over to my blog and see your face in my mirror. We could be sisters, if not twins. Only with somewhat different histories. I'm looking forward to meeting you at MCWC. - Victoria
http://w2w.victoriachames.com