A Wiser Circle
Annette J. Wick, December 19, 2012
On the occasion of a WWFC - Starfire readaround.
“Never,
never rest contented with any circle of ideas,
but always be certain that a wider one is still possible.” – Pearl Bailley
I sit with these words, alongside the joy of facilitating
this circle of writers has brought. I
reflect on those words, and say, yes, a wider one is possible.
Many months ago, I was asked to take over our (WWFC) relationship
with Starfire, and facilitate writing circles for those young women (and
sometimes men) who wanted to pursue the art of writing, and make it more integral
to their lives.
Innocently, I told our director, “I’m not used to working
with that demographic.” That was the term I naively called some in the audience
today. “That demographic.” I had worked
with cancer patients, grieving widows and those afflicted with
Alzheimer’s. In my own circles, I had
sat beside alcoholics and anorexics. And still, I said those words.
I took on that role, at first limiting our group to only
Starfire students. We had a healthy
circle, with many writing prompts, but still the circle felt empty. Words fell flat, they were not reaching their
intended audience. Not because of those
who arrived each week, their contribution was solid, but because I was missing a
piece to complete this puzzle called a circle.
After that first session, I agreed to open the class to
other partners within Women Writing for a Change and the greater writing
community. We had two writers sign
up. One , a young woman, home-schooled
with grandparents in France, and another woman who worked in radio and
publicity, immediately connected with our Starfire group. One winter day, I ran into circle members on
the streets of OTR, at the Streetcar groundbreaking, and inside Findlay Market. Ironically, it was at that time, my husband
and I signed a contract to purchase a home in OTR. Suddenly, we were traveling similar paths.
From there the class transitioned to another group of
partners, one of which included my mother-in-law. She had never looked at herself as a writer.
But as she attended each session, alongside Starfire members, she began to see
herself in a new light, light that was emanating from the courage put forth by
the Starfire members, who routinely put down on paper and shared aloud their
family woes, lover’s quarrels, dreams of working in film, and desires to be
accepted.
This most recent session, we cast an even wider net. Part of Starfire’s mission is to connect with
people and places where everyone’s gifts are recognized and valued. More of this mission was being heralded via
our partner, Courtney Calhoun, whose wondrous work connected each Starfire
member, in some small way, to others in our circle.
To date, coffee has been shared, movies taken in, words have
been written together, words have been spoken aloud at open mics. A connection in gardening is still in the
works, as is working with children’s authors, and attending senior capstone
projects. We have, in a sense, created our own community through hospitality
and inclusion, cornerstone practices of both Starfire and Women Writing.
On Monday, I visited Starfire late afternoon, as members
were preparing for their return to home.
I was greeted with hugs, Tiffany and I discussed our shared discovery
that the Great Gatsby film starred her favorite Bollywood actor. I ran into Vonceil, a student from a past
circle, and she excitedly talked about her capstone involving Spoken Word
poetry. That day, I happen to notice that
a local coffeeshop was showing a film, based on a high school spoken word
contest – The Loudest Bomb. I jotted
down the information for Vonciel, and promised to see her perform soon. Lauren peeked her head out a meeting, to just
say, “Hi.” Margot greeted me with a hug,
and noted my sling from surgery was gone.
And of course, Michelle waited patiently, as I greeted many of her
peers, before we set out on our own quest for the West Side. She put up with
plenty of my cussing that night….
I revisit my words, “that demographic,” one more time and
realize I too am differently-abled, perhaps smaller minded that my partners at
Starfire. For they take on each attempt
at connection, each writing prompt with zeal and truthfulness. They find the
connection, they include me. It is NOT the other way around.
I have learned much in our time together. The question of
being intentionally inclusive rises up in me each time I am also with the
Alzheimer’s population. I practice it within my writing circles with them. I
practice it with my own mother and her companions at her care center. But the rewards don’t come first,
understanding does.
In a recent writing session at the Alois Alzheimer Center, I
was using a Christmas theme. Stockings
lay on the tables, a few Santa figures loomed at each end. Christmas carols were sung, memories were
written down. In the tradition of Women Writing for a Change soul cards, I
close even that circle, where they can’t recall the words just written, and
ask, “How did you feel being in the circle here today?” Some answer, “It was really nice.” Some repeat the theme shared in their
writing. But Doris, one of our newer members, said it best, “It was good to be
together today.”
In light of recent tragedies and stressful circumstances in
each of our lives, it is possible to come together in comfort and joy, and connection
and courage. But it is NOT possible to do so without the intentional creation
of circles that support our work, our lives.
The quote at the top of page is incomplete. “Never
rest contented…be certain there is a wider circle.…” I would also add, a
wiser one.
