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"The women in my small group are supportive, good listeners who share a wide variety of writing... I am on such a high!"
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One Writer's Testimony: WWfaC Helps Her "Shape Up"
I began writing at WWFAC five or six years ago as a member of the Tuesday night class. I had an unformed idea lurking around in my head and I needed to get it out into the light, onto paper. That Tuesday night class gave me the impetus to carve writing habits into my busy little life. It also gave me the courage and desire to improve myself as a writer.
Life circumstances made it necessary to stop my involvement in this writing community for several years. But it was extremely important for me to know that it was still there, still active and still available. I participated in an advanced prose class, concluding the work I started all those years ago.
Women Writing for (a) Change gives individuals opportunities to shape up. Just as one goes to a gym to shape up one’s body, women join WWfaC to shape up their thoughts, experiences, hearts and minds. Who can deny the importance of these aspects in a woman’s life?
From my perspective, WWfaC goes an important step further than merely helping women learn to give voice to their experiences. Its most important role may not be specifically about writing. Through the thoughtful structure of its operations, women learn things that are of crucial value in the world at large: self respect, empathy to the experiences of others, a sense of community, and the need for reflection to keep balance in one’s life. The common experience of writing and sharing one’s writing facilitates the occurrence of activities of which our world is sorely in need.
The need for a permanent home for such activity as this cannot be stated strongly enough. Women Writing for (a) Change is a unique and valuable contributor to our world and deserves good housing! -Mary Kroner
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What Would YOU Do, If You Ruled the World?
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During a recent retreat-reunion of Feminist Leadership Academy graduates, Mary Pierce Brosmer, Founding Director, led twenty women writers through a weekend of reflection, rest, and a celebration of one another's journeys. Mary Pipher's latest book, "Writing to Change the World," gave fresh perspectives, and from the discussions, this writing prompt evolved: What would YOU do, if you were Ruler of the World? Two graduates of the Builders Class of the FLA, Gerri Wittekind and Diane Debevec, decided to answer the question. Their words of wisdom follow...
What would you do first, if you were the ruler of the world?
-Geraldine Wittekind
If I were the ruler of the world,
the first thing I would do
is apologize.
On behalf of what is said to be
the most advanced civilization
that has ever lived,
I would apologize for
what we have done
to our mother earth.
I would beg forgiveness
of polluted waterways,
of denuded forests.
I would seek out
ghosts of extinct species
to say I’m sorry.
My tears would drip
on melting polar ice caps.
I would seek absolution
from the gods
for the horrors and wars
executed in their names.
I would weep
at the feet
of the Statue of Liberty
for blessings
we have squandered,
for the creeds
we have mocked.
Given the power
I would ban all nuclear weapons,
land mines and smart bombs.
The world would live
under the strictest gun control
ever known.
Artists, scientists,
teachers, care givers
and the elderly
would be revered.
The concept of celebrity
would die
of natural causes.
My first speech
would be to children.
My second
to their mothers.
I would tap the world
for great women.
I would poke
and prod
the latent leaders.
Those whose anger
led to depression
instead of action.
I would stir
the exhausted marchers,
the rejected poets,
the priestesses
denied their pulpits.
There would be
a disproportionate number
of women
from third world countries
in my circle.
If I ruled the world
our mission would be
to reseed the planet
and the minds of its people.
Children would be
our witnesses.
Generous giving
would replace consuming.
Compassion would replace
indifference and ignorance.
Spirituality would rule
over fanaticism and zealotry.
And when the seeds
of our work sprouted,
the harvest would be
distributed equitably.
And at every feast
and festval
poetry would be read.
If I Were Ruler of the World
by Diane Debevec
When I become ruler of the world, the first thing I’ll do is call a cease fire on every war-front in the world. I’ll say, “Stop fighting, folks, we’re just going to think about what we’re doing here.” I’ll put all of those unemployed soldiers to work helping the countries they’d been bombing.
Meanwhile, while the soldiers are busy feeding the hungry and building shelters for the homeless, I will call all leaders of the world together for a retreat at St. Anne’s convent in Melbourne, Kentucky. Not just heads of state type leaders, but also the spiritual and religious leaders from every tradition. Here we will be held in grace and prayer by the Sisters of Divine Providence, for surely it is Divine Providence that made me ruler of the world.
No entourages allowed, no body guards. A miracle will take place here, for just as in the miracle of the loaves and fishes, there will be room enough for everyone, and time will slow to a magical pace in sync with the rhythm of the earth. Together we’ll learn about one another, our stories and traditions and languages, sitting in circles and small groups. Every Feminist Leadership graduate, and every teacher, and many students of Women Writing for a Change will be present, showing the way.
Every night, the leaders from one nation will cook dinner for everybody, wonderful foods and wines and bounty from their homes. We’ll learn and listen and wonder at the diversity and richness of our human tribe. We’ll tell our stories and listen to stories and soon we’ll be laughing and crying together in compassion and understanding and yes, even forgiveness.
Lasting world peace will be the eventual outcome of this gathering of nations, and with that the global realization that children are hungry, people aren’t receiving good medical care, and we are destroying our sacred home through thoughtless bad habits and greed. An apparition of a gigantic light bulb will appear over the earth, near the north star, and a huge worldwide paradigm shift will occur at the exact moment that the magnetic poles of the earth shift.
Around the world, formerly unconscious people will slap their foreheads in disbelief: “Oh my God, what have we been doing?” they will shout, and random acts of kindness and benevolence will break out everywhere.
Differences of opinion will be not only tolerated but also respected. Children will be cherished. Grown ups will rediscover the joys of youthfulness, once children everywhere begin to thrive. Billions of dollars previously spent on weapons and home security systems will go towards literacy and education programs.
A world wide holiday will be celebrated the day the last nuclear bomb is diffused, and that day will be remembered and cherished for many, many millennia.
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What WWfaC Is Really Like: Reflection by Stephanie Dunlap, City Beat Writer and WWfaC Student
This article from Cincinnati CityBeat can also be viewed at:
(http://www.citybeat.com/http://citybeat.com/2007-05-09/therebut.shtml)
THERE BUT FOR GRACE...
Writing As Renewable Resource
By Stephanie Dunlap
My
attempts to tell the truth about myself used to feel like describing
foliage by studying a topographical map: I could guess what people
expected to grow where, but I really couldn't tell what I was looking
at.
My version of my life was a 30-second elevator pitch. It was
nodding and smiling, smiling and nodding. It was a rant over the fifth
drink in a smoky bar. A MySpace profile of endless links elsewhere.
Whatever form it took, I made sure to throw intruders and even invited guests off the trail of any real emotional landscape.
That applied to me, too. I couldn't talk about what I felt or what mattered to me even if I wanted to.
Sometimes
I really did want to. Sometimes I was paying people to nudge me along
while I tried. Friends, family and lovers all called out to me. Though
I had a voice, I just couldn't seem to speak the language.
It's
not like that for me anymore, for a handful of reasons that include
nearing the end of my twenties. The shift began around the time I met
Mary Pierce Brosmer and first experienced the consciousness of her
writing school.
My introduction to Women Writing for (a) Change
-- in shorthand, WWf(a)C -- was through a CityBeat assignment to write
about Brosmer's latest experiment, the WWf(a)C Feminist Leadership
Academy. Like a good embedded reporter I sat quietly, watched and took
notes. But I sat in a circle with other women, and that circle was a
beginning.
I didn't cry until I was walking out so no one could
see my face. I'd just seen a whole roomful of people being with each
other and relating in ways I wanted desperately.
I'm not dying
to confess all this to the more cynical factions of CityBeat's
readership, but the timing of this year's Women's Issue jibes too well
with a looming deadline for WWf(a)C's capital campaign to buy its new
home in Silverton. I couldn't ignore the parallel.
"A place for
women to tell the truth of their lives" is one way Brosmer likes to
describe the school's mission. WWf(a)C is an organization offering
weekly writing classes, writing retreats and other gathering
opportunities -- but it's also a school of thought and a community.
Now
WWf(a)C becomes a destination, too. If it scrapes up $85,000 more by
June 29, the Women Writing for (a) Change Resource Center Foundation
will hand over money to buy a two-story building in Silverton. The
capital campaign has raised almost $700,000 toward its total $1 million
goal, which also sets up endowments for scholarships and building
upkeep.
I took my first of three semester classes at WWf(a)C's
former Madisonville location, where the school inhabited the second
floor of the Ironworkers Hall.
When the community outgrew the
space, WWf(a)C moved to the former Crazy Ladies Bookstore in Northside.
From what I understand, there were accessibility issues, parking
issues, safety issues and issues-issues.
Now my third class,
"Living and Leading Like a Poet," meets at the Silverton location that
Brosmer hopes will be WWf(a)C's permanent home.
The space feels
right. Brosmer says its careful arrangement is a manifestation of the
two things that guide all this work: intention and intuition.
The
crystal I've noticed carefully placed in a corner of a stairwell was
the work of Kathy Wade, a longtime WWf(a)C faculty member as well as a
trained crystal healer. When Brosmer's grandsons first visited the
space, they came back to her with their hands full: "Ma," they said,
"there were rocks in your corners."
I'm now taking my first
class, and one of the first offered, that's invited men to join. I
realize with some shame that I never fully embraced the WWf(a)C model
until I saw the effect it has on men, too.
I thought guys would
screw up the class dynamic and upend the carefully crafted "container,"
as Brosmer likes to call the safe and intentional vibe of conscious
gatherings. Not at all.
Still, I do think participating in
WWf(a)C takes a certain kind of man -- which is not at all to imply "an
emasculated one," but one willing to feel and be honest and who isn't
threatened by others' honesty, a man who can pass up the joke in favor
of sitting still and listening. The carefully intentional process isn't
for everyone, men or women.
Though word of WWf(a)C has gotten
round in the 16 years since Brosmer started holding classes, she still
runs up against resistance and misunderstandings.
"I think
there's an assumption on the part of some people that if women are
doing it together it must be something opposed to men, or not powerful
or significant," she says. "Like a hobby or something."
Now its
capital campaign banks on selling the vision convincingly enough to
buck conventional fundraising wisdom by raising 10 times more than
WWf(a)C ever has. (See details at womenwriting.org.)
Crafting
the fundraising pitch often means having to explain in topographical
terms a way of writing and being that pushes roots far below the
surface. Such conscious writing usually hits water, but try explaining
its value to people who don't know about thirst.
Even I struggle
to get it sometimes. I know that vital writing isn't at all hobby-like.
But in the three years since becoming involved with WWf(a)C, I've heard
Brosmer repeat the phrase "telling the truth of women's lives" umpteen
times without really understanding what it meant to me.
I've
seen what it means to the grandmother speaking for the first time about
childhood abuse, the divorcee learning to define and express herself
outside the role of wife and mother, the emotionally drained teacher
reclaiming her calling, the business professional letting down her
guard or the shy teenager testing out her voice.
But I'm lucky
enough to have been a paid writer already, I've acted and waited tables
long enough to fake confidence when the real thing ran dry and I'm a
"young professional." Sometimes I trip over differences in stories
instead of hearing the similarities.
Then two weeks ago Brosmer
read aloud to us a poem in which she feels her way back through one
protracted teenage moment as she clumsily soft-boiled eggs for her
father.
"Not that you would hit, or even scold/ me for such a
tiny failure/ but that you would smile/ that wry, sad, but somehow
satisfied/ smile that said you were disappointed/ disappointed but not
surprised, for/ already, Daddy, it was becoming clear/ as people used
to say, that I was not/ the right kind of woman."
I hadn't known
that emotion could be nailed the way I felt it puncture my chest when I
heard those words. I didn't know that sharing that ephemeral moment
could have a purpose beyond blaming, confronting or crying.
Sometimes
just telling the story and being heard is enough. Sometimes hearing
others' stories is enough. Sometimes it's nearly everything that's been
missing.
I'm hoping that WWf(a)C gets everything it still needs
to become a lasting haven for Cincinnati's women and men, to be a
renewable source for what's been missing.
CONTACT STEPHANIE DUNLAP: letters(at)citybeat.com. Her column appears here in the second issue of each month.
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