I used to be a middle school teacher, and one thing I remember about middle school writing was that most of those early September samples I read were filled with epic adventure. With boys, I read a lot about war or climbing mountains with only one working limb (don’t fret, the main character ALWAYS made it to the top). Girls wrote about different kinds of adventures – going off to college, or getting lost in Florida on Spring Break.
While these stories were grand, and, have mercy, lots and lots of pages, I tried to ask questions to get the students thinking about what they know about these subjects.
“What do you know about war? About mountain climbing? What do you know about college?” While some of them did in fact know something about what they were writing about, it seemed that in those beginning days together, they wanted to write someone else’s story. Perhaps they thought their own story wasn’t exciting, cool, or funny, enough. Perhaps they wanted to be somewhere or someone else.
I understand. I have a slew of ideas I can write about now that I’m officially a student again. I read lots of writing blogs and I think that perhaps I could contribute a bit about what it means to be a writer, too. But I’m not sure how much I really know.
Here’s what I do know:
I know I love to go grocery shopping with Harper. Her enthusiasm for picking out eggs, or strawberries, or juice is unmatched. She looks around as she pushes her cart, singing, or talking to me about Diego or Tigger. She loves putting the groceries on the conveyor belt, and a lot of times the cashiers let Harper “sign” a receipt, which she thinks is fantastic.
I know that even if Harper is in a bad mood, she instantly cheers up when we enter the grocery store. It’s not that I want to pass along my love of shopping, but Harper seems to understand the loveliness in neatly stacked, colorful products. She seems to find joy in placing boxes and cans just so in her cart. And she loves to talk to me about what she will eat with her new food, or when she will eat it. “I can eat this apple while I’m playing with my dinosaurs, is that a good idea?” Or, “Maybe I can have a cookie on the way home.”
I know that while we bag, Harper likes to sit on the bench next to the cashier. She usually sings, providing entertainment for customers within earshot. For awhile she sang a Taylor Swift song (I’ve decided Ms Swift is today’s Debbie Gibson) about bein’ mean. Harper sat on the bench, swinging her legs and sang, “Someday, I’ll be wivin’ in a big ol’ cit-ay…..why you gotta be so mean” (this is the way Harper sings it). Another time Harper heard Selena Gomez’s “I Love You Like A Love Song.” This brought Harper to her feet as well as prompted a, “Hey, Mommy! It’s our song!” She started wiggling and jumping around, and when it got to the chorus she belted out, “Ah, ah wuv you wike a wuv song babay!”
On another day, Harper was tired from all the picking out of bananas and Cheerios, so while she waited for me to pay for the groceries, she asked, “Mommy, can I have Bear and OG?” I pulled her old friends out of my purse and handed them to her. The cashier smiled as she scanned my items and I said, “I know she shouldn’t have a pacifier, but I…”
“Hey,” the lady stopped scanning and put her hand on mine looking me in the eye. “You do what you need to do. It’s OK.”
I know I want to remember that moment, so I’ll write about it here.
There’s no better way to remember it than to write it!
One benefit you have with writing CNF, Callie, is that you know your subject matter better than anyone. That said, many writers more insightful than me have observed that the process of writing itself is a way of learning and answering questions, so presumably when we start we don’t know as much as we will when we’re done.