Sally Harrold's Paper 4

1997 Oregon Writing Project

These four weeks have given me the time, the opportunity, and the necessity of writing--not reports or letters of recommendation or tests or sample essays or memos--but stories about myself. I'm sure part of the urge to write these stories has come from teaching an autobiographical writing course to senior citizens this past year. Reading these stories and feeling the death of my father has made me want to write my family stories. The timing is good, too; my daughter is leaving home, so it's time for her to have these stories.

I've discovered that I love writing these stories; I am a writer. Despite teaching writing for the last twenty years, I've never really considered myself a writer. Yes, I've written for work for years, but that writing didn't match up with my idea of being a writer, somone who told stories. Now my papers have not been fine fiction, but in them I have attended first to language, to its rhythm and sounds, to the pictures it creates; then to audience; and only last to logic. So though I don't write fiction, I am a writer. It's fun. I like that.

It's been fun, too, to have people respond to my work. I've not felt defensive, and I've known many times that "something" was wrong and that "something" was then right. So the OWP has helped me see myself as a writer; that new perception will make me a better writing teacher.

What else? I've come to see the field of writing with more depth and breadth. One of the things I have loved about teaching in a community college is the focus on teaching. Working with my colleagues has been nourishing enough that I've not even realized that I've been isolated. Here I've seen that isolation and been able to slip out of it. I've loved being with and listening to writing teachers at other levels. They've made me realize how lucky we are to have them teaching, how lucky I am to get students who've had them.

The breadth. Getting my degree in writing, basic writing, meant reading and reading composition theory. I was reading individual works, seeing pieces of a puzzle. Sometimes they fit into groups or clumps of puzzle pieces, but they didn't form a whole. This writing project has helped me see how many of those puzzle pieces fit together--both in areas of the puzzle and, to break the analogy, through time. Parts of the puzzle that were fuzzy are now clear. It's been fascinating, like seeing patterns in therapy.

This technopeasant has not moved to technocrat, but I have learned to use a Mac and to use the Internet with greater ease And I have learned how to use computers to enhance my teaching--not just of writing but of literature. Two of the texts I read were practical and helpful, so much so that I'm ordering them and using them and urging other technopeasants in my department to do likewise. I'm excited about that; I I think using computers in more varied ways will interest more students. I've also learned about what's happening in computers and education--cyberschool--and about programs that are available--Inspiration.

Most importantly, I've learned the joy that comes when I open up--to other people, to computers, to other media, to writing. I've learned yet again one of my life lessons--play and good things happen.