I heard from a former student today. She wasn’t even a student of mine, but we host an event at our school called Writers Week—five days during which writers from across the country converge on our campus to discuss and read their work: poetry, fiction, journalism, screenwriting, lyrics—so I get to know the best writers in the school, who are as well known as the top athletes, a fact we teachers think is pretty cool. Anyway, she wanted my reaction to a poem she’d just written. She mentioned that she’d lost touch with her writing since graduating but found herself drifting back again, which seemed to renew her. I’m proud to realize that we (there are many generous and kind teachers involved in the planning of Writers Week) have fostered a supportive and safe place for young writers to express themselves, a place they can always return to, even if it’s just in an e-mail.
My reflections on writing, reading, and random thoughts.