Today was Day 1 of Introduction to Creative Writing, an online class I enrolled in through the local community college. I have been wanting to take a class (in anything) for a while now, and wanting to improve my writing always, so this seemed like a perfect step. Not sure why it took me so long.
Day 1, for those of you who have never taken Introduction to Creative Writing in an online format, involves reading a brief lesson (which consisted mostly of encouragement that we are already writers, even if we aren't published--or even good--and that we just need to practice) and then practicing free writing. Free writing is an exercise in futility for the perfectionist. Or so I'm told. One simply takes a pen in hand (or a keyboard on the lap) and writes for a set amount of time. Whatever comes into your head. Some call it "stream of consciousness writing". No planning. No restructuring. No editing. No even fixing typos. Gah! I may not make it to Day 2.
Our class is composed of at least 2 dozen aspiring writers from around the globe (apparently Introduction to Creative Writing is very popular in Australia. Not kidding.) ranging in age from 14 to 73. We have students, teachers, mothers, grandmothers, military brats, and me. I'm sure the experience, talent, and attention to grammar is going to be vastly different among us. I'm told we'll each work on a piece throughout the 8 weeks that should be completed by the end. A finished creative work. You may even get to read it, if you're lucky.
For now, I'm excited to be a student again. After all, doing it for 24 years, I've gotten pretty good at it.
Wednesday, April 15, 2015
Thursday, April 2, 2015
Cultural legacy
I just finished Malcolm Gladwell's "Outliers: The Story of Success"--a thought-provoking read on why we should reconsider what leads to success and how we might be able to increase opportunities for more people to be successful. One of the intriguing points he makes is about cultural legacy. He focuses on two major populations--Korean pilots, who because of their culture of deference to authority have a hard time speaking up to prevent plane accidents; and Southerners, who because of the defensive and suspicious culture that surrounded the settling of the less-than-fertile land are still to this day more likely to react violently to situations. He's careful to say that these are not all-encompassing legacies, but asserts that if you want to change behavior, you have to at least acknowledge them.
It got me thinking about my own legacy. By many accounts (not necessarily our own), my immediate family is considered successful. Parents married almost 38 years, financially stable yet generous, involved in the community. Four kids, all college graduates (assuming the last one doesn't screw up something in the next 6 weeks) and two doctorates among them; hard workers, athletes, volunteers, and faith-filled disciples. What was in about growing up a Zapapas near the turn of the millenium that set us up for success?
Our cultural legacy is built on a combination of Greek entrepreneurship and German blue-collar work. My great-grandfather came over from Greece on a boat as a teenager and opened a candy kitchen that is still churning out homemade confections. His son (my dad's dad) saw the value of hard work and obtained a degree in pharmaceuticals, traveling the world and sending all six of his children to college. On my mom’s side, my German grandfather was a partner in an electrical company, who worked hard until the day he died but never settled into financial security. My mom grew up into expectations of pulling your weight, but she wanted more. She studied hard, graduated college with straight A's and a business degree, making sure she would always be able to provide for her family. Between these two legacies, college was an expectation for us growing up. School was first (well, God and family were really first—another legacy, stemming from two Catholic matriarchs who were both married for over 50 years and had their priorities straight), and everything else was second. You never gave less than your best. Summer time was for playing outside, but also for doing math workbooks and reading. We watched my parents both work full-time jobs so we could play sports year-round and go to a Catholic grade-school. We just never thought about doing anything differently.
Had any of us been born into a family whose legacy was farming, or ranching, or holding down minimum-wage jobs, things would have been different. Had we come from a series of broken families, things would have been different. Instead we were raised in an environment that cultivated our curiosities and strengths, buoyed by expectations of generations before us. Our culture legacy didn't do all the work, nor should it limit us, but I think it's interesting and important to consider. I, for one, am extremely grateful for mine.
It got me thinking about my own legacy. By many accounts (not necessarily our own), my immediate family is considered successful. Parents married almost 38 years, financially stable yet generous, involved in the community. Four kids, all college graduates (assuming the last one doesn't screw up something in the next 6 weeks) and two doctorates among them; hard workers, athletes, volunteers, and faith-filled disciples. What was in about growing up a Zapapas near the turn of the millenium that set us up for success?
Our cultural legacy is built on a combination of Greek entrepreneurship and German blue-collar work. My great-grandfather came over from Greece on a boat as a teenager and opened a candy kitchen that is still churning out homemade confections. His son (my dad's dad) saw the value of hard work and obtained a degree in pharmaceuticals, traveling the world and sending all six of his children to college. On my mom’s side, my German grandfather was a partner in an electrical company, who worked hard until the day he died but never settled into financial security. My mom grew up into expectations of pulling your weight, but she wanted more. She studied hard, graduated college with straight A's and a business degree, making sure she would always be able to provide for her family. Between these two legacies, college was an expectation for us growing up. School was first (well, God and family were really first—another legacy, stemming from two Catholic matriarchs who were both married for over 50 years and had their priorities straight), and everything else was second. You never gave less than your best. Summer time was for playing outside, but also for doing math workbooks and reading. We watched my parents both work full-time jobs so we could play sports year-round and go to a Catholic grade-school. We just never thought about doing anything differently.
Had any of us been born into a family whose legacy was farming, or ranching, or holding down minimum-wage jobs, things would have been different. Had we come from a series of broken families, things would have been different. Instead we were raised in an environment that cultivated our curiosities and strengths, buoyed by expectations of generations before us. Our culture legacy didn't do all the work, nor should it limit us, but I think it's interesting and important to consider. I, for one, am extremely grateful for mine.
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