7/14/2008
Those were the words that got me. There stood the woman I had only just met--my future bride--speaking words rich with eloquence and glowing with truth. All those in attendance at the writing conference were audibly moved as a hush fell over the hall. While she'd answered a question about why we write, she'd done so much more: she'd revealed to us a granule of that which makes us human. The desire for connection, for a wholeness we cannot accomplish by ourselves.
Of course I'd be lying if I suggested that, at that very moment, I knew...but the honest answer is that I was too overwhelmed by the power of words to even know what I was feeling. When she and I departed four days--days spent writing, confronting, exploring, and savoring one other's words--later, we exchanged addresses and began an old-fashioned chain of correspondence. Writing hand-written letters to one another.
4/4/1984
Truth be told, my love affair with letter-writing, though, began much earlier. My parents used to refer to mail as either "anybody mail" or "whobody mail." We lived in a tiny schoolhouse in northern New Hampshire and the postal workers' lonely sojourn by our house on Lost Nation Road represented one of the highlights of each day. The 90 degree turn on which our mailbox made its home was often overshot by a late night driver and my father got in the practice of repairing the rusty old mailbox's scrap wood post every couple of months. My mother would eventually paint the words "Good News In Here" on the front.
We loved mail. I loved letters.
4/22/2001
At 17, the testosterone-laden mosaic of my adolescent ethos centered on my passions for sports and writing. So it was no surprise that Sports Illustrated found its way into my lap each week at the local library. I loved the work of Rick Reilly and wrote him a letter.
To my shock, Rick wrote back.
Nothing compared to receiving this letter as an aspiring writer.
10/19/2016
When I shared this letter, these stories, with my students yesterday, I was revealing a part of myself...I was sharing with them more than a letter, or a passion. I was telling them that I trusted them. I was pushing past the awkwardness of emotions and going there.
I'd gotten the idea to focus on letter-writing for 10 minutes a day in English class because I read the four thank-you notes to Michelle Obama published in the New York Times earlier this week. I was moved by the unconventional nature of their wisdom, their gratitude, their beauty. Each reflection (because that's really what they were) brought such enigmatically beautiful poetry to our First Lady's existence. My students and I then embarked together on a detailed scouring of the website Letters of Note, looking for letters, for wisdom, for emotions, for words and phrases, that inspired us.
My students recognized that when people are writing to those they love and admire, they become better writers, their vocabularies swell, they avoid the commonplace cliches and ordinary verbiage of their colloquial vernacular, and seek to put words to what can't be said.
And so it was that we began considering the people to whom we might compose a note of gratitude.
Here are some excerpts.
"...I want to tell you about the first time I went fishing..."
"You probably don't remember the advice you gave me one Thanksgiving, but I do. They're words I'll never forget."
"I don't know how to say thank you."
"There is something about your smile."
"Thank you. Thank you. THANK YOOOOOU."
"I love doing nothing with you."
"We learned a lot more than we realized in second grade, didn't we?"
"There is nobody in the world like you."
“A week later, you died. Cancer stole you away”
“You taught me how to be brave, how to be happy, and how to let go.”
“Hearing stories about your childhood, and everything you’ve been through, made me realize how lucky I am.”
“I’ve always been nervous about doing things.”
“Your smile and laughter is something that people everywhere will never forget.”
“That’s when I found out exactly what you were: an inspiration.”
“The moment I heard the first song, I immediately realized my passion for music.”
“You increased my love for it so much.”
“It’s more than fair to say that this trip really opened up my eyes.”
“When I think about how you risk your life every day, for people you don’t even know, I know you are a real hero.”
“You are a genius!”
“You were a frequent visitor, even though I didn’t see you much.”
“I didn’t notice how much I would miss you until now.”
“Even though we only spent 55 minutes together each day, we always shared a connection.”
“There are so many things that I take for granted that you do.”
“The only way that you can achieve your goal is through hard work, just like anything else.”
“I’d never sought their wisdom or wanted to know what they thought...they’d never given me a reason to.”
“When you first came to my door many years ago, I slammed it in your face and ran away.”
Watching my students shed the bravado of adolescence and embrace an attitude of appreciation was pretty remarkable.
"When you leave the classroom," I added. "Try to look for other moments of admiration in your day. Who do you notice? To whom could you write your next thank-you note?"
I said these words, but I didn't have to. The tone had been set, and it was contagious.
I think I owe them a thank-you note for their tenderness, their courage, and for pushing past the awkwardness of emotions and going there.
No comments:
Post a Comment