At a Writing Workshop

“Be bold!” It’s a favorite mantra of mine as I stand in front of students not eager to write their personal narratives. They may be working on an essay, memoir or journal entry. This work requires a voice. There’s no hiding from it. Upon hearing my words, smiles cross their faces. They pick up their pens. When a person fills a page with the absurd, comic, or tragic circumstances of life I wonder where else they can do this so freely.

Some students sign up for a writing workshop unsure why they chose to do so, yet something intrigued them. Others mention concrete goals they hope to achieve. The experience for each depends on how willing they are to expose themselves on the page and within their newly formed peer group. A recent memoir writing class showed me how rich the writing workshop environment can be.

Alice writes about a dirty orphan boy who sucks his thumb, farts, and picks his nose. He lived in her neighborhood and she wished he would just go away. But he has stayed in her mind for many years, long after she left that block of houses. She wonders in words: “Did he ever find love?” Knowing she will never get the answer. Before reading she says, “I’m being bold here.” Yes, she is.

Jack appears an executive type, a leader of meetings. He describes a scene of his brother, who has muscular dystrophy, flapping his uncontrollable arms while rolling in a wheel chair down Broad Street in Philadelphia. The parade humbles Jack. He shakes his head and utters “Gosh” when describing his brother’s strength.   

Kate struggles with her past, finding seeds that blossomed during adulthood. She is not afraid to write: “At the age of 12, I asked God to raise me up.”

Even timid people can write boldly as Jane shows us. Ever fearful of the smallest challenge, she describes her attempts at riding a bike or balancing a tray as a waitress. She triumphs by surviving each. Jane is bold and timid. She never falls victim.

“I’ve begun something new,” says Rose on the last day of the workshop. She says her memoir is for her family, but what she’s discovered is she loves to write.

Protective people don’t fare as well. Rarely, will they share their work. They may be afraid someone will steal their ideas (which I have never known to happen) or they can’t conjure the will to conquer their fear. They need special acceptance from the instructor and the group. These people think they can’t, won’t or shouldn’t be bold for whatever reasons.

I understand their dilemma. It has taken me years to use the pronoun “I” in my writing life. I hid behind objective journalism, marketing and technical writing before embracing the personal narrative. Now I am drawn to the “I” story and love helping people craft first-person pieces.

The reaction of my students when I blurt out: “Be bold!” reminds me to do so myself. I still work as a writer in a world where the “I” word may not be allowed, but with my students I can write and edit with gusto.

Mary Klest is a Midwest writer and teacher with a focus on personal essay, memoir and journal writing. She can be reached at mary@maryklest.com