I had students this afternoon, two of them, cousins, who are both sweet and well-mannered boys. One is going into 6th grade, the other is in college, and both need help with their writing. As it turns out, I have two more of their extended family I also see regularly, two older boys, one still in college, another a college graduate who has since become my writing friend, meaning he comes for free and we write together for the sheer fun of it. I love these young men, each and all. They have become extended sons to me since I have longstanding relationships with them, meaning years, not months.
I have another student who is finishing college and is home for the summer. He also started with me as a little boy and is now 22. We have spent hours and hours together over the years as he has written and edited with me several very fine fantasy and science fiction stories. We are old buddies, as they say, and interact as old friends.
Of course, I have several girls, too. One of my closest female students is off at college now, but she stops in and writes with me when she is home. We, too, have spent hours together writing and sharing our stories. When she settles into one of the two wing-back chairs, it is as if she never left; as if time has shifted and here we are and she is not 18 but rather 12, and this is one of the first days we are spending together.
I have another young woman who will be a senior in the fall. I have had her since 4th grade. (This is the usual time these students come to me and stay and stay and stay to my delight.) This young woman is another of my fiction writers and we have shared experiences in this room and on the page and lots of memories from all the stories we have written. We talk and laugh and write and drink hot tea together.
Another of my sweet fiction writers will be graduating college just about now. She is my Facebook friend and I follow her life through the pictures she posts. She and her mother came to my daughter Sarah’s wedding last November and I was pleased to hear that she is writing regularly and has had a publication or two since our time together. Ah, what news for a writing teacher.
My method with all writing (except college essays) is that I write when my students write and then we share our pieces. My thought is that sharing writing is a risk and it’s not fair to make that a one-way road. Also, I learn from their writing and they learn from mine. So, we are all equal here in terms of putting our hearts on the line.
And then there are the students who come and write their college entrance essays with me. We get to know each other very well since we don’t have the years my others students have, but instead a concentrated time together that is focused and sweet. I get very close to these students, as well, since their essays require real soul-searching, and I am there to push them to go deeper and question harder what their experiences have taught them. We become old friends in a short span of time and when they are accepted into wonderful schools, then I feel heartened and happy.
I must admit I often feel a little sad when any of my students head off to college. Another little bird living the nest. It is a bittersweet time since they are ending our time together, but beginning a new chapter of their lives where they will grow and stretch and turn into adults in just a few years – good and worthwhile adults with social consciences and lots of skills to make the world a better place. Still, I have to grieve a little.
However, often without warning, I will receive a text or call or email that says, “When can I come? I want to write together again.” And then, my heart smiles and I write back, “Tomorrow! Can’t wait!.” And my sweet student arrives at my front door and we hug once again, old friends, then head off to the living room where he or she says, “What can we use as a prompt? I’m ready to write!”
I smile and say what they have heard dozens of times before, “Pick three objects from around the room or go to the globe and point to a place or open a book and pick three random words.”
“Of course,” they say, and off we go.
Aw, sweet life. I am blessed.
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