On the Outside.
It’s been four months since I began facilitating the Creative Writing class at Retirement center, and I’m still trying to find my place within the group. I love these writers: they’re enthusiastic, prompt, always willing to share their stories. But, at times, I struggle with how to guide them.
They are a diverse group: a few are interested in submitting their work, others just enjoy reading their stories, some attend simply to listen. And, in the one hour we are allotted (the center keeps those folks busy!), there is no time for a real critique, only a few moments for reflection on individual pieces, and much of the discussion leads to reminiscing common experience.
This is where I stumble most, when the great divide of a generation(s) gap leaves me speechless.
Sometimes, the writers lead their own discussion, with several heads nodding and plenty of “Oh yes, I too remember when….” For those moments, I am grateful. But, when the table is quiet and all eyes turn to me, I feel the pressure of a lost connection. I know the common experiences (between young and old) are there, and I know, once I push past those uncomfortable feelings, I will find them.
Get Personal.
What I need to do, I realize now, is share a little more of me. At our monthly meetings, they often ask me to read what I’ve written on the prompt. So far, I’ve shared short pieces of fiction (since that’s what I tend to write). Next time, though, I’ll do what I’m asking them to do: dig deep for a memory that begs to be shared.
The Prompt.
Breaking the rules.* That’s it. No explanation, just three little words. But those words, I imagine, will yield stories to which we all can relate.
How do you break through uncomfortable feelings? How do you find connections with folks twice your age? Or, better yet, when do you break the rules?
* This month’s prompt comes straight from the Readers Write section of The Sun Magazine. If you decide to write on “Breaking the rules,” consider submitting your piece to The Sun. The deadline is January 1st.
Photo credit: Iñaki Pérez de Albéniz on flickr.com
Just recently my mom and I sat down for coffee with my great-uncle — he looks so much like my grandma (who passed away over 10 years ago) that it makes my heart hurt. But I cherish every moment with him. And he is FULL of stories. So I usually just ask some questions — and he takes it from there.
The look on my mom’s face as she watched him tell tales from when my grandma and grandpa first met to the cool cowboy boots he used to wear… well it was pretty priceless. When we left, she said, “I’ve never heard some of those stories — that was so neat… you knew just the questions to ask.” But really, they were just simple prompts. A few words. And it led to hours of memories.
I imagine these folks are just grateful for your time — but I bet they would love to hear more about you! Just the fact that you are doing this is inspiring. Be proud, missy. (I sure am.)
I love this, Sarah. Thanks for sharing. It’s a good reminder to me that some days, listening and asking questions is all I need to do.
Christi, been there and felt that. I used to develop intergenerational projects … teens with babies and teens with seniors … the best … seniors with babies. What I discovered is the timelessness. What we think of as a “gap” is often a bridge of common emotions that connect us at any age to any group.
Try relating your experiences. I guarantee they will find a common thread. Loved this post 🙂
What we think of as a “gap” is often a bridge of common emotions that connect us at any age to any group.
Just what I needed, Florence. Thank you.
An hour’s not very long! Do they work on anything when out of your group and bring it to the next meeting?
You might be younger, but I bet they still see you as the authority on writing. That willingness to be vulnerable first, and then to listen and not be critical of their efforts, will go far.
Jan,
I leave them with a prompt to work with for the next meeting. An hour isn’t very long, so they bring their finished stories and we start reading right away.
I like what you suggest, the willingness to be vulnerable. And, I’ll think about what you say below, too. I know that periodic check-ins on how the process is going is always a good thing. Maybe it’s time to check in, for myself as much as for them.
Thanks Jan!
PS: One trick, if it feels right, is to put your feelings out there in the open for discussion–the fear that you’re failing them because of your youth. Then they have the opportunity to contradict you, or to tell you what would help, or to be equally self-disclosing and say that they’re worried they’re failing you because of their faulty hearing, or slow brains, or whatever.
It’s not writing, per se, but it’s modeling bravery in communication. Anyway, from the bit I know of you, I’m confident they already appreciate you, even if you don’t know it.