A Purpose to Write

Writing has dominated my life.

Reader: (most sarcastic voice) Becca, I had no idea.

I communicate better through writing than when I talk face-to-face because it could depend on which side of my personality I wish expose or hide when I speak with someone.  Most of the time, I have little time write my memoir, (my current project), or on either blog.

When I stayed at home with my son, Hayes as a toddler; I was inspired through what I read to grow my craft.

Recently, my students’ writing has inspired my writing.  When I went to a writing conference in my state a few years ago, one literary agent talked about growing past the thirteen-year-old tendency to write in a style of bleeding on paper. I thought, I may not write like that now, but that’s how I got my start.  

Pat Conroy, famous author from my home state, wrote a memoir about the books that inspired his writing and personal life.  This is essential because these books work like oxygen to a writer’s lungs.  In it, he wrote about an educator who inspired his writing.

We live in a time surrounded by never ending hurricanes of mass shootings, political unrest, raising awareness on mental health, and opening our eyes to the realities of cultures different than our own. Something that remained unchanged from my time as a student was the fact I started writing because teachers pushed me.  My poetry teacher from the South Carolina Governor’s School of the Arts for writing, ninth grade program, said to my parents, “She was born to write.”

At that moment in time, my poetry was stronger than my weak fiction.  An author and teacher in a writing program said that; not to please my parents, but because he felt it was the truth.  Because of the program, I discovered my then weakness in fiction.  During college, I honed my skills in narration. As a result. twelve of my creative publications are fiction and nonfiction narratives.

By the time I was twenty-six, I took another step forward. I ventured out of fiction into the unknown and unsteady waters of nonfiction, essay, and memoir writing. At first I had a bunch of prose-style poems searching for some truth with what happened in my life because I was not ready to write the full story.  I did not have my memoir’s center yet.  The piece that kicked off all the nonfiction writing has been considered my most powerful piece to date–the twice published, “We Never Said Hello.”

Virtually unchanged from the first publication, the publisher of the second one wanted to change the title from “Grass from the Grave.” As an author, I will tell you I hate titles more than anything else. This is why my memoir is called Memoir.   The process, or project, of my memoir started as a collection of prose-style poetry, which I then turned into narrative nonfiction.

“Maybe if I had let him die her heart would’ve let her live. Maybe if I’d gone to my scheduled appointment in Winston-Salem … no, my soul would’ve died.” from “We Never Said Hello” by Rebecca T. Dickinson

Coming to terms that members of my husband’s family would never forgive us or my son’s existence for his mother’s death inspired the fastest, solid piece of writing I’ve ever created. I wrote the the piece in less than ten minutes.

I am a slow writer, and I tend to edit more than writing something brand new.

The evolution of my writing wouldn’t exist had my teachers not let me write.  My fifth, eighth, eleventh, and Yearbook English teachers were the most inspirational. One just let me fill up my journal, even when I was mad at her.  She was the first teacher I noticed who read my writing. That was the same year she chose my essay for a prominent state writing award.

My Yearbook teacher is one of the two men for whom my son is named.  He taught me writing as a product, and he added photography, lay out and design to my resume. This turned out to be an essential life skill more important than anything I learned in college because those skills helped land me jobs in my first career as a journalist and then as a graduate assistant in which I worked with technology and design.

This teacher also inspired me as a teacher to instruct my students to create products and focus on quality in their work instead of just making them for a grade as this is a life career skill they need. It is more important than grammar basics. If they can’t create and design, then they have less qualifications entering the work force.

I have used both qualities of my fifth grade and Yearbook teachers in which I pushed creative writing and a product.

I was emotionally moved at the end of this school year when my students, some of  whom I’ve taught two years in a row, turned in their ABC poetry books in products. They combined those essentials I’d learned, designed a poetry book, and wrote the truth as I told them from the beginning.

In the beginning of the school year, one girl questioned everything in a way which might seem disrespectful to some. I told her this:

“You don’t like the school rules. Great. Put it in your writing. You don’t like me. Great. Put it in your writing. Are you angry? Great. Put it in your writing. You have more power in your voice if you write it out.”

Some of these short poems break your heart. A literary agent might say: “Ah, youth, bleeding on paper.”

If we want to create a generation of writers instead of texters, we need to encourage them to write their truth. Only when they write their truth can the new cliche of “live your best life” take place.

I can relate to what one student wrote: “To my old friend … you broke me. I thought I could trust you. I guess I was wrong.”

What this student is learning is that her old friend only bruised her because she grows stronger every day I see her. Her poetry book has been a healing process for her.  Pouring my heart into my children, students, and writing has been a healing process for me over those I’v lost.

For the first time, in a long time, I’ve worked on a poem since mid-April separate from my memoir. I focused on photographic moments in time like my favorite poet, Carl Sanburg.  The idea of it is goodbye takes many forms; happy and sad.

“Sometimes goodbye is a child’s hug and whisper,

‘Please don’t leave now,’ when dad is at the door

Oh, Goodbye, it takes many forms like a

supernatural substance sliding on the floor.”

Verse 1 Excerpt from “Goodbye Is” 

 

I try to capture them all as I am saying goodbye to many parts of my life. The second excerpt I’m sharing today, I wrote for a colleague whom I admire, gave me strength to stand when I wanted to yell “battleship down,” and who has withstood many storms.

“Open bag with ungraded papers, hurry home and hold her hand throughout the night,

The alarm goes off, sniff your armpits, think: This shirt’s okay, and stuff papers in the bag.

She asks for a straw, the twisted kind, as you recall Mom before her mind took its flight.

But, the office doesn’t recognize between the gone and the going; only the here or late.

Serve Mom Sprite with the straw when she says, ‘Amy, I want crushed ice.’

Who was Amy?  Never mind. Think of the time when Mom took you to fly that kite.”

Verse 4 from “Goodbye Is”

 

Whether a writer, teacher or designer, it is up to all of us to inspire purposes for writing.

By Rebecca T. Dickinson 

a.k.a. the Bridesmaid Reject

a.k.a. Bridge_the_Gap_

a.k.a. A Mixed Up Teacher