Apologies for the epoch between posts. My larger writing projects have been consuming most of my time and headspace. (Forecast: major editing and publication.) And, I’m still teaching! Translation: Every moment counts, especially the ones writing.
It’s such a pleasure to welcome new students into my practice. Each comes with their own strengths, passions, growing edges. Yet, the most common element is a desire to make meaning out of what they are learning.
Take one student who needed help with an essay about a book that centered on an escape from the World Trade Center on September 11, 2001. The main character, blind, depended on his senses, his intelligence, and his guide dog. The relationship between dog and man was at the heart of the essay.
Yet, the student seemed to lack sufficient context of 9/11. This want led to a lack of vested interest, or so it seemed in the writing that had been completed thus far. After we watched a stunning clip — yes, stunning for its capture of the jetliner crashing into the first tower– I shared my own memories of that morning as I learned the news. Then I recalled the eerie week of continuing shock afterwards. Do you have a story of how you learned or a family member who was there?
It was a shocking moment in history. It was devastating. Catastrophic. Mind-blowing. Violent. Savage. Brutal. My mind still empties when I witness any part of this staggering once-unimaginable event.
It’s a lot to take in. But take it in we must, if we are to understand such an event. And take it in we must, if we are to write about such things in human history. Without an emotional investment, an essay captures little of the enduring helplessness and desperation of 9/11. The changes wrought by this despicable act. Because of this, the essay couldn’t possibly capture the courage of those on the scene.
The teacher on record asked me how I supported this student writer. Perhaps, I’ll writemore on that in a future post. For now, I’ll simply say, I enticed her with context, emotions, and words — like the ones above.
How might it feel to witness what registers as a significant historical event?
What event in your lifetime will you never forget?
If we can’t imagine how a blind man navigating his way down a building on fire, that may have been hit (he didn’t know at first) deliberately with a jetliner, then how do we imagine our students will be able to write about such things.
Meaningful. Authentic purpose. Those aren’t throwaway words. What we learn must have meaning, and possibly earn a place in our psyche, before we can record more than facts, before we can write something someone wants to read. And isn’t that the point of learning how to write? Write with meaning.
One Good Mentor is all you need 