Watching the Short People Write

       I am attempting to teach my students about the art of blogging.  I randomly assigned them topics.  One of my students is doing a piece on Phineus & Ferb, (which the student clarified was a popular children’s cartoon) while another is writing about what cartoon character he would like to hang out with, and the third student is writing about what month of the year she would like to eliminate, and why.   And I’m staring at them like they’re in a fish bowl.  Every couple of minutes I have to look at the cartoon character kid and add an additional question, then I need to turn the page for the Phineus & Ferb student so she can learn that using big font doesn’t get you out of a writing prompt.

      In my own writing over the years I have become accustomed to prompting myself as a writer, going to a writers workshops, getting up at 6 a.m. to read a book in which I’m not all that interested, but has wise words on how gerunds effect a line of poetry.  This brings me to the fishbowl in front of me.  Inspiring, helping another writer brings things full circle.  There was definitely a time when I was given writing prompts and wiggled too much, but somehow I now prompt others.

      Arts for All gives me the opportunity to see creativity in its rawest form, from that of children.  By now the cartoon character kid has killed Luigi, the child removing a month has chosen May because May Day is stupid, and the girl who loves Phineus & Ferb has written something I don’t understand.  They write without limits.  It doesn’t matter if they use passive voice, gerunds, or gobs of adverbs.  They write for the pleasure of it.  A couple of weeks ago I wrote a story about a cow living in my house.  The story tapped into that same raw creativity.  I shared the cow story with my students and their eye opened wide.  I was one of them.  I finally understood how they wrote, again, and it felt foreign like I should have someone there to reign me in, but fortunately no one was there, and I was able to enjoy the beauty of writing without an audience.  My only hope is that  I won’t teach my students too much.

-Contributed by Joy Ill