Monday Notes: What it Means to be in Community: A Recap of Pedantic Residency

Earlier this year, I was accepted as a Pedantic Arts Resident (in writing). From June 7th to July 5th, I lived in Pittsburgh with two other people: Arinitwe, an artist from Uganda and Maritza Bautista, a curator from Laredo, Texas. For four weeks, I was steeped in Pittsburgh’s thriving arts culture. Here, I learned what it truly means to be in community with other people, who create professionally and consistently and other writers, who publish professionally and consistently.

A Community Provides Networking Opportunities

Unlike traditional residencies where you spend copious amounts of time in a secluded area creating art, Pedantic’s focus is networking. When I asked the co-founder, Henry, what his vision was, he explained that he’d modeled it after a Master of Fine Arts (MFA) program. This was logical. I’ve heard MFA graduates reflect on their degrees. Above all else, they praise the networking piece. Henry thought it would be cool if there was a residency where artists were introduced to people who do similar work. I’m not sure I need to extol the virtues of networking. It’s not what you know; it’s who you know is a phrase for a reason. However, I’ve never really experienced the benefits of networking. Even as a doc student and professor, I’ve never been mentored and introduced to people in a way that boosted my career. But this changed while I was in Pittsburgh. I met and had conversations with the following: Danielle Obisie-Orlu, a former youth Poet Laurette, Doralee Brooks, a former Poet Laurette, Damon Young, author of What Doesn’t Kill You Makes You Blacker, Brian Broome, author of Punch Me Up to the Gods, Hattie Fletcher, editor of Creative Nonfiction, Gwendolyn, former editor of Third World Press, Diane Samuels, the woman who co-founded City of Asylum, Henry Samuels, the man who interviewed Salman Rushdie, when he was attacked on stage, and many more. These experiences were invaluable for several reasons that I cannot fully share. Just know that spending hours with these folks has not only widened my scope of who I can be and what I can do as a writer, but it also opened up opportunities.

A Community Provides Support

Part of this residency required that I be paired with a guide who is a writer. My guide was a poet and fiction writer named Sherrie Flick, who has a myriad of publications, and who is also a senior lecturer at a university. Before I could unpack my bags, Sherrie invited me to an open mic, where she was on the roster to read. While I have read my work aloud before, I had never participated in an open mic…in a foreign city…with strangers. I was nervous. I’ll spare the details of how I attempted to squirm out of reading from my memoir. But I do want to share that Sherrie gently encouraged me. She assured me it would be okay. And she was right. Encouragement is a type of support. After reading, the emcee approached me and said, what I read was “powerful.” Another woman, Sheila, reiterated that I was “brave” to have read about losing my virginity. Sherrie affirmed the excerpt was appropriate and that it gave just enough detail so that people would be interested in reading more. Affirming someone’s writing is another type of support. Then, two people (a filmmaker and a marketer) bought copies of In Search of a Salve. Buying someone’s book is also a kind of support. Afterwards, Maritza suggested the three of us go have a drink to celebrate my doing a thing I’ve never done before; Celebrating accomplishments is another type of support. The support was seamless. I didn’t have to beg or fight for it. It just existed as part of the community.

A Community Provides a Service

The open mic was a part of Hemingway’s Poetry Series, which was created 50 years ago, specifically for poets to read their work. From what I can tell, these people simply enjoy providing a platform for local poets. Sherrie Flick hosts something called Walk & Write, where people pay $10 to tour a different Pittsburgh neighborhood, talk about the area, and then write based on a prompt. This is Walk & Write’s third year. Sheila Carter-Jones hosts (sub)Verses, a poetry reading and writing workshop for BIPOC women; they meet every other Saturday. Participating in these community events showed me two things. The first is that sometimes, one should do something just because they want to. Period. Full stop. Whether it’s five people or 50, it is okay to create a group where people like doing fill-in-the-blank thing. The second is that if you follow your heart’s desire, you will probably provide a service for others as well. In this capitalistic society we’ve been born into, many of us believe we must find something that will make us millionaires. Maybe. Maybe the idea will grow. Or maybe, the most important thing that will happen is that you will have found a way to serve the community in which you live just by manifesting from your heart center.

Overall, I’m grateful I had this experience. Although it was not the kick back on the mountains and write kind of residency, it did afford me the kinds of opportunities I wouldn’t have had pontificating from my home office. I’m thankful because my writers’ network is a bit wider and I now understand how to be in community where I live.

Monday Notes: What it Means to be in Community: A Recap of Pedantic ResidencyIn Search of a Salve: Jo’s ReviewInspiring Image #152: Transient (Columbia, SC)Monday Notes: 24 Hours of White Wealth and White PrivilegeInspiring Image #151: Transient (Savannah)