National Day on Writing

Tomorrow I will be celebrating the National Day on Writing with my students. In preparation I wrote a response to the "Why I Write" prompt offered by NWP (National Writing Project). This is the latest in a long line of short pieces I have written on this topic. Sometimes, even with things we love, we have to remind ourselves why.

Why I Write Today

I am a writer because whenever something significant happens and whenever it doesn't, I itch to put it into words.

When I walk outside in the morning, I want to describe how the fingertips of air touch my skin. When I drive to work, I want to list all of the adjectives I can that describe the sound of my car -- the whir, the grumble, the sigh, the buzz of tires on asphalt.

When I talk with someone, I imagine the words being typed across a screen or written in a notebook. I imagine what that conversation would look like in the pages of a paperback, black type on rough vanilla pages.

I see my words popping up in speech bubbles, filling all the empty space between me and you.

I write because I am breathing, because I am living, because I am loving you and this is how we kiss.

Coming in Last

Last is a place most people don't want to be.

Few choose to be last in line or be picked last for a team or come in last in a race.  Last means waiting and slow. And in a world as fast-paced as ours, last feels like almost not being there at all. Last feels like losing.

I haven't gone back to check each day, but during the Slice of Life Story Challenge this month, I have been last or close to last almost every day when I posted my slice.  Being on the West Coast contributed to that, but I also usually reserved writing my slice for the very last piece of my day.  I wanted to be sure all that was going to happen for the day had happened.  I wanted to fall asleep with words still rearranging themselves on my mind.  I wanted to eulogize each passing day with my words.

When I went through the Writing Project Summer Institute in 1999, I wrote a poem that began, "My time to write is morning..."  Now, the quiet and calm I like to write by comes with moonlight instead of the sun.

March has given me a new appreciation for last.

Saturday, Slow Down!

On my husband's Disney-focused blog, Days in the Park, he sometimes features a "Saturday Slowdown," a post detailing a place in the park that is perfect for a little relaxation or some time out of the California sunshine. For me, Saturday and slow down rarely go together. I often think about my Saturdays weeks ahead and allow myself to imagine accomplishing great feats of organization, cleanliness and domesticity. A typical in-my-head Saturday to-do list might look like this:

Make the boys a bountiful, wholesome breakfast
Do several load of dishes
Vacuum thoroughly, moving furniture when needed
Do five loads of laundry and put away all of the clean laundry from last week
Organize all photographs from 2004 - present
Scrub toilets until they look new
Dust
Alphabetize our 500-DVD collection
Establish a disciplinary system that guarantees peace and brotherly love
Give myself a perfect pedicure

Of course, I never, ever have a Saturday that even comes close.  Most of the time, half of the day has zipped by before I even commit a list to paper, let alone cross anything off of it. Breakfast this morning was frozen waffles and pre-cooked sausage. I think my youngest son was still in his undies at 2:00 in the afternoon today.  I didn't dust.  I didn't organize.  I certainly didn't get a pedicure.  And now, it is nearing 10:00 pm and I can't believe another Saturday has slipped away.  What is there to show for it?

I guess I did a few things today. I did take Michael to his GATE test this morning and treated him to a McDonald's shamrock shake when he was done. I did present the technology inservice for teachers beginning the Writing Project Summer Institute at UCR. I did play a round of iPhone Scrabble with Nicholas and laughed when he played the word "fub" which sounded so silly to all of us.  I did get to have my four year old, Lucas, crawl in my lap and call me his "bewuvved". I do get an hour of quiet time with my husband, time for both of us to talk and share and let go of all the cares and worries of the week. 

And I do get to sit here now, writing.  It may not be sparkling toilets, but it certainly makes me feel ready for the week ahead and even the speedy Saturdays to come.  And who knows?  Maybe a pedicure is in the stars for sometime soon!

A Me of Multiple Identities

The last two months have been absolutely crazy.  It began with a jam-packed November which included my first trip to the National Writing Project's Annual Meeting, held this year in Orlando and continued through Thanksgiving, the blur that was early December and finally the merriment and mayhem of Christmas and Winter Break.

I've decorated; shopped; wrapped; baked (to the detriment of my family); nurtured sick children, a sick husband, and a sick self; assessed students on a semester's worth of work; and spent way too much time on my new phone (LOVE that I can play Words with Friends anytime, anywhere).  But through the cloud of all this activity and chaos, my mind keeps returning to an idea I happened upon while in one of my sessions at the NWP Annual Meeting.  The session focused on the new book, Because Digital Writing Matters and the concept that struck me was that of multiple identities and how students today need guidance and instruction in terms of how those identities are formed and conveyed.  In the past, we had our various roles -- mother, teacher, church-goer, poet, friend, wife, and so on -- but to some degree we could control which of those identities others had access to and how each of these identities was presented.  Today, those multiple identities bump up on each other, overlap each other, become almost indistinguishable at times.  When I write a blog, its public nature means that my mom can read it, my brother, my husband, my pastor, my student, my student's mother, my aunt, my principal, my long-lost boyfriend from kindergarten -- and strangers by the thousands (or the dozens anyway!).  How do I acknowledge and respect all of these pieces of myself and still be transparent and sincere in what I share here?  When my audience is so broad, yet so potentially personal, how do I share my heart without crossing the line?

I don't have a clear answer, but I believe the best way to discover how to balance these multiple identities is to face the challenge they present as directly as I can.  I need to keep writing.  I need to keep asking myself how these readers of many sorts might respond to what I share, but I also need to remember that ultimately, I have to honor all of who I am.  I tell you, it certainly provides motivation to be a person of worth and integrity.  When each identity has its own space and expectations, we can rationalize the inconsistency of our attitudes or behaviors. When all of our identities are exposed at once, hypocrisies and weaknesses are much easier to see.

The multiple identities of Lucas: good, bad...you know the rest!

The Big Idea in my AP English Literature class this year is "Somebody Worth Being" and while I certainly intend for my students to grow in their reading and writing skills over the course of the year, I believe the most important learning will be in relation to that concept.  How do we become people of value and substance? Maybe it begins with all the parts of who we are making peace with each other so that we can approach the world with confidence and courage.  Writing is the way I make that peace.  How do you make yours?