On Wednesday, October 29th, 2008, I had the privilege of reading and speaking to Maria Beltran-Vocal's DePaul classroom with Paul Martinez-Pompa. The students were there for a class on the Mexican experience in which they had been reading and analyzing Paul's poetry. Aside from the awkwardness of having to publicly announce and defend my writerliness in front of thirty or so undergrads, I really enjoyed the opportunity to think about my writing in such a public and immediately gratifying setting. The students were great and asked lots of thoughtful questions; one went so far as to present an argument to Paul about renaming one of his poems!
It was an insightful group, and their questions varied from: Why did you choose that title for your story? to How do you think gender plays into your work through the Mexican experience? I was on my toes the whole time, trying to be honest and fair in my answers, considering that some of these people might be or want to be writers. In fact, I was able to speak with a couple young women afterwards who admitted that they have been writing and were really relieved to see me (a young Latina emerging writer) on stage next to Paul.
I will take a few elements of that experience away with me. One being the necessity of asking yourself those seemingly simple questions: Why did you choose that title? Why is this creative nonfiction? What is the purpose of writing this story? But, more importantly, I have not been able to stop thinking about this question since that night: Why do we do this? In light of the recent election of Barack Obama, my mind has been working doubletime to break down the necessity of the writer's role as an activist. The need/desire (or lack thereof) to live up to the social justice issues that affect the communities we identify with is a common theme among the writers I know. And it seems that perseverence is just as key as the intellectual or creative ability to be active in anything from writing to protesting. Maria Melendez had some interesting thoughts on this topic in her article. Junot Diaz told me: You have to believe that in the future there will be someone who will put their hand backward in time to grasp the hand that you’re putting forward in time.
I used to think that the point might be that you will never feel that hand in your lifetime. That it is simply the condition of expressing such private things in such a public way. Only time can allow the kind of scope that such intimacy, such awareness requires. But I have held so many hands along this journey that I realize now, it is not just one hand that you should reach for but many. So you do this work with the hope that when you're done (with that poem, story, essay, freelancing gig, semester, sandwich), that hand will be waiting for you. And you keep reaching for more.
It was an insightful group, and their questions varied from: Why did you choose that title for your story? to How do you think gender plays into your work through the Mexican experience? I was on my toes the whole time, trying to be honest and fair in my answers, considering that some of these people might be or want to be writers. In fact, I was able to speak with a couple young women afterwards who admitted that they have been writing and were really relieved to see me (a young Latina emerging writer) on stage next to Paul.
I will take a few elements of that experience away with me. One being the necessity of asking yourself those seemingly simple questions: Why did you choose that title? Why is this creative nonfiction? What is the purpose of writing this story? But, more importantly, I have not been able to stop thinking about this question since that night: Why do we do this? In light of the recent election of Barack Obama, my mind has been working doubletime to break down the necessity of the writer's role as an activist. The need/desire (or lack thereof) to live up to the social justice issues that affect the communities we identify with is a common theme among the writers I know. And it seems that perseverence is just as key as the intellectual or creative ability to be active in anything from writing to protesting. Maria Melendez had some interesting thoughts on this topic in her article. Junot Diaz told me: You have to believe that in the future there will be someone who will put their hand backward in time to grasp the hand that you’re putting forward in time.
I used to think that the point might be that you will never feel that hand in your lifetime. That it is simply the condition of expressing such private things in such a public way. Only time can allow the kind of scope that such intimacy, such awareness requires. But I have held so many hands along this journey that I realize now, it is not just one hand that you should reach for but many. So you do this work with the hope that when you're done (with that poem, story, essay, freelancing gig, semester, sandwich), that hand will be waiting for you. And you keep reaching for more.
