Have you ever looked fear in the face and said I just don’t care?
Today I’m honored to have a guest post by my dear friend and mentor, Tess Thompson, writer extraordinaire. Check out her latest book, Blue Mountain, available on Amazon.com.
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“Have you ever looked fear in the face and said I just don’t care?” Pink, Glitter In the Air
I come from a family of teachers. My maternal grandmother was a kindergarten teacher, a second career after raising three children. All children loved her, especially little ones. How many children she taught the alphabet to over the years, I couldn’t begin to guess. I visited her classroom once when I was a little girl. It smelled of paste, new paper and chalk. Little tables waited for children to begin the first leg in their journey as students. I was jealous, standing there. How lucky, I thought. They were to have my grandmother usher them into education.
My father taught the middle grades and middle school for over thirty years. He was a natural teacher, although it was not something he set out to do. I believe it was more of a calling that seemed inevitable – a young man with an English degree given the opportunity to become a teacher through a program called the Teacher Corps.
In the small town where we lived, he was a legend. Growing up I often heard about his dynamic teaching style; his strict discipline; (my mother always said, after visiting his classroom, that is was so quiet you could hear a pin drop); his zest for education; his verbal teaching style. He was the type of teacher you couldn’t take your eyes from and remember all your life.
Many of my favorite people are teachers. I suppose it’s because they’re a little better than the rest of us. Low pay, demanding parents, unruly students, and yet they dedicate their lives to the idea that without education our society will fall to ruin. It’s a lofty idea we all agree with, of course. We all know we would not be where we are at this exact moment if it weren’t for the men and women who taught us from the first day of kindergarten to the last day of whatever higher education we reached. As Americans we agree that education is a fundamental right of all human beings. However, the difference between our ideals and a teacher? We’re not in the trenches of classrooms every day carrying out the most important job in the world.
So it is no wonder I gravitated to the idea of teaching myself. As a child, I planned on being just like my first grade teacher, Mrs. Preston, 1970’s pantsuits and all. But my path did not lead that way. As was the case of my father, I was led to my calling without actively choosing it. My calling to write seems to have chosen me, despite my denial and fear for many years. Doubt and fear led me down a circuitous path, to be sure, one in which I wasted too much time under the dark cloud of uncertainty rather than fingers to keyboard. Now, I am right where I’m supposed to be. Finally.
Recently, I’ve started offering creative writing workshops to children and adults. I love it. Teaching about writing as a craft, which is quite teachable, by the way, is as large a passion as the writing itself. Teaching is in my DNA, I suppose. It’s not just teaching the craft, however, that thrills me. Even better than discussions about dialogue and plot and setting is watching an adult student conquer their fears and start writing. (As an interesting side note, children have none – they all thing they’re the best writers in the world). In my adult classes we call it the “Inner Critic” (not my original term) and we learn to tell that cruel voice in our heads to “suck it”, because no matter what they tell us, we’re going to write our hearts out without worrying if we’re any good or not. I know, it’s bold. But our Inner Critic needs to be taken down.
And the way to get good? It’s simple. Read. Write. Do these both more than you do anything else in your life.
I understand the reason we don’t write. Because we’re afraid. I used to be. I still am sometimes. There’s no such thing as writer’s block. It’s writer’s fear. (That’s an original phrase, by the way). But to write well we must not succumb to fear. We must look fear in the face and say – I just don’t care. Because what I know to be true in all areas of life – fear is not only the opposite of love – it is the single largest darkness that keeps us from our dreams.
All this to say – when one of my first students, Chris Minich, sealed a publishing deal earlier this year for his middle grade series, The Misadventure of Princess Sydney, I couldn’t have been more thrilled. I took pride in his talent, in his burgeoning craft, but mostly that he conquered his doubts and fears and found his voice so that he might pursue his lifelong dream of becoming a writer. Because of his bravery, children all over the world will enjoy his beautiful books for years to come.
Perhaps it’s this feeling that keeps all our beloved teachers going each and every day?
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Tess Thompson is a bestselling Women’s Fiction author of three series, including the River Valley Collection. She lives in Snoqualmie, Washington with her lovely daughters, Ella and Emerson, and their naughty cats, Midnight and Mittens. She blogs about her crazy and miraculous life at: www.tesswrites.com . Follow her on twitter: @tesswrites
