I brought home two necklaces for the girls: a pink butterfly for Hadley and a blue one for Harper. Both are sparkly. I also brought home a sticker book and a make your own teepee book for them. Harper can place stickers onto a wild, wild west background and Hadley can cut out different teepees, glue their edges together and set up a little community.
The girls wanted to know if I slept in teepees while I was in Santa Fe. I told them no. Hadley asked if I wore what the Indians were wearing in the pictures she was cutting out. I said that I didn’t, that I brought clothes from home.
“Did you learn what the different kinds of animals that live there eat?”
“No. I tried to stay away from the animals.”
“Well, what did you learn?” Always the practical child, Hadley wanted a full report of my first days as a student.
“I tried to learn how to write,” I told her.
“Do you have homework?”
“Yes, I have lots of homework.”
“Me too. I have Kindergarten homework. What’s your homework? Maybe I can help you with it.”
“I have to write an annotation on All the Pretty Horses.”
“I can totally help you with that. We have a song about horses. What’s an annotation?”
Do you want to hear a scary story about Santa Fe? I’m not sure how it ends so be warned: you might not find this one inspiring or uplifting or what have you.
I think maybe there was a mistake and really it’s Shmallie Fryin that they wanted. Maybe Sallie Cryin. I’m not sure, but I think the director called the wrong person. It’s not that I don’t want to be in this program, my goodness, I do. But I have to be honest with you: I don’t think I’m smart enough to be an MFA student. You know I wasn’t a good student, right? Have I mentioned that? Have you heard about the time I walked out of a final in college leaving an entire two pages blank? The professor called me (he CALLED me) and said, “Hello, Callie? This is Professor Vandersmandersma and I noticed that half of your final is incomplete. Did you know there was more to the exam?”
“Yes. I don’t know the answers to those questions.”
“Would you like to come back and try to answer them?”
“No because I don’t know the answers.”
That’s just one example. I have many, many more. The problem that I’m running into with this whole MFA thing is that I want to understand. I want to learn. I don’t know if I have the capability to. While in Santa Fe, I felt like I just caught glimpses of concepts during lectures and workshops. I couldn’t write. I was unable to process any sort of thought. Exercise, which always helps me to think, was no use.
The culmination of these feelings happened in the middle of the week during a lecture given by Scott Derrickson. He makes horror movies. He talked about transcendent darkness and I sat through his presentation trying very hard to understand what he was talking about until I left, crying.
He showed a clip of one of his movies, The Exorcism of Emily Rose (I can’t link to it, you guys, it freaks me out too much. I’m sorry. Find it on Google. It’ll take two seconds.). First, he showed the real clips of the girl he based the story on. That’s when I started to cry. And then, even though I covered my eyes the whole time during his clip, I began to cry so hard that I was having trouble breathing. I left after he stopped the clip.
I walked to a nearby bathroom and bumped into a girl who was on her way out. She asked me if I was OK. I told her no.
“Was it the movie?”
“Yes. I feel like such a baby.”
She said it scared her too and that’s why she left, but I kept saying over and over, “I feel like such a baby. I don’t get any of this. I don’t understand any of it.”
It’s a great way to make friends – cry really hard and make no sense at all. This girl is totally going to friend me on Facebook.
Anyway, this is not a critique of Scott Derrickson’s films. I can’t do that seeing as I technically didn’t watch anything he’s made. You should all definetely go watch his movies. I think his latest one has to do with something that snatches the souls of children. Jesse and I have plans to double date to that one.
I was scared, yes, but I wanted to understand what he was talking about and I couldn’t. Mr. Derrickson said that he felt it was important to tell this girl’s story, but why just the scary part of her story? Did he know what her favorite color was? Did he find out when she learned how to hop? When she learned to pray? What her favorite toy was? What about her favorite stories? Did he find out who her friends were? Whether she liked Monday better than Friday?
Maybe it’s only because I’m a mother, but I want to say this: no matter what happens to Hadley and Harper – no matter how scary it might be – that is not all of their story. They make rainbows and kick soccer balls. Hadley wrote a letter all by herself to her Kindergarten teacher telling her how excited she was to start school. When I got in the car at the airport, Harper, who was sleeping, woke up and she and I stared at each other for a moment. She studied me long enough to figure out who I was. She smiled, then went back to sleep.
I guess that’s where I’m at right now. Trying to convince myself that my lack of intelligence is just a little piece of who I am. I work hard, but I’m not all that smart, and I think the truth is I am a bit of a baby. But the first morning I was home the girls and I sat at our table together working on their Santa Fe activity books and Hadley said, “Mama, this is really nice. I’m glad you’re home.”
Maybe it’s not such a scary story, afterall.
Well, if you are a baby then so am I! I can’t watch that stuff.
And maybe we aren’t supposed to understand transcendent darkness when we know the light of the world?
Did we ever watch horror movies in college? I don’t remember. I feel like we watched a lot of Sunday Night movies and of course, all the 90210 I forced you guys to watch. You’re welcome! Talk about the light of the world. 🙂
I don’t watch horror movies and never have. I’m pretty sure I remember sitting out in the hallway with Gretchen (?) when there was a movie on that I wouldn’t watch!
First off, who is this Shmallie Fryin who’s not intelligent? I know Callie Feyen, and she’s plenty smart–about much of what writing is. I wish I could go out for coffee with you (or a glass of wine) RIGHT NOW and talk about all this. I’ve read enough of your work to know that you “get” transcendental darkness even though you might not call it that. Maybe it’s kind of like Flannery O’Connor’s very dark stories that manage to show redemption, thought not in “sunny” way. I’m just guessing. Me, I would’ve been outta there the minute I heard the word “exorcism.” As for wild animals, did you hear the coyotes in the morning from your dorm room? I did, & it stopped me from my morning walk in the hills behind the fancy adobe houses near the campus. You’ll be fine. I know that. I think it’s good to feel scared, and even to cry, at a week like you just had.
Thank you, Lindsey! I really appreciate your comment. Coffee and wine would be a perfect compliment to a conversation over transcendental darkness. 🙂 And I did hear the coyotes. Every morning. I think once they howled, “CALLIE!!!!” Or maybe it was, “Schmallie.” I had my head under the pillow so I’m not sure. 🙂 Thank you again for your comment.
I don’t the answers for any of all this, but I did want to say that our kids did that same teepee project, so thanks for bringing back those memories. You are a totally great mom!
Thanks, Linda! It’s a great little workbook. Hadley really enjoyed it. She’s been playing with the teepees all week.
I think the more we push ourselves to learn, the more often we feel a little lost in the midst of a room full of brilliant people. Who’s to say the person next to us doesn’t feel the same way? I certainly remember those moments when I was doing my MS and wondering if I walked into the wrong classroom. I do know that you have talent, because as a mother, a woman, and a friend, your writing touches me and makes me think. Isn’t that what a good writer does?
Meg thank you so much for such a kind comment! I really appreciate it, and I’m glad I’m not alone in thinking that I’m the only one who’s felt this way. Thanks so much for reading!
callie lewis (for old time’s sake): you can totally do this. i absolutely agree with meg that at some point in any educational journey, you should feel overwhelmed and unsure. if you didn’t, you’re not pushing hard enough. do i need to tell you how many times i cried during medical school completely convinced that letting me in was a big mistake? this wondering and uncertainty is normal and important. think about being a mom–how often has that inspired feelings of being overwhelmed and unsure? and isn’t it worth every moment as you grow and learn in that role? you’re going to rock that MFA.
secondly, and less importantly, i’ve seen that movie. it’s creepy. and you and valerie are remembering it all wrong–don’t you remember freshman year interim where every day we rented the scariest movie we could find? gretchen left the room more than once. or was that before we learned there was an annex?
You are a wise woman. I agree, it wouldn’t be growth if I wasn’t overwhelmed and unsure. Thank you for the pep talk. I am feeling much better!
What’s awesome about the memory of us watching the scariest movies we could find is that GRETCHEN was the one who left. The girl who set our dorm on fire MORE THAN ONCE leaves during a horror film. Hahahahaha!
I was out in the hallway with Gretchen. 🙂
You’ve just reminded me of the blank page I left on one of my final exams once. (Philosophy was my Achilles’ heel – well the class was. I think I can be adequately philosophical when the need arises.)
Anyway, I’m there with you at the I-don’t-know-if-I-can-do-this point in my writing career, although you’ve got tons more in your favor. Including enrollment in an MFA. To provide a bit of balance, doesn’t it help to spend some time reviewing your writing successes? I’m sure there are many.
Thanks, Anita! I’m glad I’m not the only one who has left a final exam incomplete. And while I know how frustrating and not at all helpful it is to think “I don’t know if I can do this” in regards to writing is, I understand those thoughts well. I hope that you don’t get stuck thinking that too long! 🙂
When did you start writing fiction?
: )
Ha ha, Mom!
I’ve been there too: facing the blank test, listening to a talk that everyone else seemed to understand. But I think the thing about writing is you don’t have to be brilliant, you just have to have good eyes. And I know you have great eyes. I’ve seen it here on this blog. I’m looking forward to reading more of the stories you see!
Thank you, Annie. You know, I feel better after having written this post and just naming the fear. Thank you for your comment.
Hi Callie – I just wanted to send a little encouragement your way. For one, you are a great writer! But also, remember this: when we face something that is bigger than ourselves, it is the place God shows up. It’s okay to feel overwhelmed. He’s with you every step of the way! He will give you everything you need, one day at a time. Blessings to you!
Thanks so much, Marcia. I really appreciate these encouraging words!
I’ve been MIA for a while and am reading your posts from most recent to old, so I am not 100% sure what’s going on, but for what it’s worth, I LOVE coming back to your site and reading your posts–you are very smart and an excellent writer. Going back to school can be so scary and being challenged is scary, too, but you are doing such a great job being a role model to your girls. You are following your dreams in the face of real adversity, and they can look up to you for that, no matter how things turn out 🙂
You are so kind to take the time to write this, Becky. Thank you so much, and thank you for all your encouragement! I really appreciate it.