May 12, 2005

• This week has been a fantastic frenzy—more so than usual.

  At work Tuesday, an after-hours event that I had been planning for a few months happened. As a part of the marketing team at the Museum of Contemporary Art, I assist with planning lots of events designed to attract new audiences (and potential donors) to the museum, but as the lowest woman on the totem pole, I have never before been charged with leading the organization of an event. So this Tuesday was really my chance to shine.

  I have always liked event planning—I planned huge theater fundraisers and events in high school and my role as a writer/producer at the student run television station at Columbia had me constantly organizing events and shoots. But this time I was getting paid so it was different.

  The event was called International Night at the MCA and it was an attempt to get the international consulates in Chicago involved with the museum. It was a great success—we exceeded our 30% goal (a useful event planning tip: one should aim to receive 30% of the total guests invited) and everyone had a smashing time and left happy. Free cocktails and dim sum will do that to a person.

  After the event, my boss lady took the department out for drinks. We chatted away and for the first time everyone really let their guard down. Except for me—but I’m the youngest and that tells me that I should shut up and take the opportunity to observe the professionals around me. This approach seems to be paying off, because I was praised to high heavens at the bar. My lovely boss lady announced, “I could have an assistant who just schedules things and files—but I have an awesome, smart sweetheart who is always planning cool shit and thinking of innovative, awesome ways to do things!” It was great to have some affirmation that I’m not doing too shabby after all. Being a newbie at this whole post-graduate employment gig, I was nervous that I’ve been being ridiculous at work, but apparently I’m a pretty good little worker, and lucky for me I get to work with a team who comprised of people who are cool, interesting, and amazingly nice people. And they even act that way 99.9% of the time.

  Despite the late night Tuesday (I didn’t get in until 1:00ish), I was up and at ‘em Wednesday morning because there was another event that I had to pull together at the museum happening at 11:30am. Despite a slight headache and being a bit too hung over to realize that my skirt and bare legs were completely stupid things to attempt to wear on a day with temperatures that dropped to the 40’s by noon, accompanied by a ferocious wind that threatened to flash my bare ass to all of Michigan Avenue, the event and the rest of the afternoon went off without a hitch.

  After buying a pair of overpriced, but completely necessary pants at the Water Tower Place (the fancy mall that is our museum neighbor), Shaun and I were off for some cheap Indian food and to see the annual director’s festival at the Bailiwick Theater.

  If you live in Chicago and you have never been to the Bailiwick, you are seriously missing out. They always offer very affordable shows (our tickets were only $10 each! yay!) that feature new directors, amazing new scripts, and you really feel like you are getting to see the freshest, newest of the new stuff. This being said, there is no guarantee that the play is going to be good (the first in the festival had potential, but it was a little lackluster in its lack of plot progression), but I really dig getting to decide for myself if something is awesome. The only way you can do that without being affected by “the critics” is to see weird stuff that no one has heard of yet and deconstructing it’s appeal for yourself. Even if the play blows, I don’t mind as long as I get to decide that for myself. I guess that’s the same reason I’m into contemporary art. You can go to the Art Institute and see a Picasso and you don’t really have to wonder if it’s “good” (whatever that means…) because that’s already been established with history. Contemporary art is stuff made by people who are actually alive, so there’s no real history to confirm that they are awesome—you just have to decide that for yourself.

  Anyhow, I’m completely rambling right now. Today was also fabulous because I had my annual evaluation at my other job as a writing tutor and I passed with flying colors. A person from the evaluation committee observed one of my tutoring sessions. Then we had a conference with my boss about what was found in the observation. What was found is this: my session’s rock. Apparently I have a very personable approach and my student writers really open up to me, which is very cool to hear. I think that when you do any job for a while you become a fish in its bowl that is unable to see its own water. It’s just really great when someone points it out for you.

  I feel weird to gloat so much about my week—I don’t usually write entries about the actual “current events” of my life—but things have been a bit crappy lately and I’m just so exited to have a week where all my hard work actually pays off. This week kicked ass and I’m sure it will continue to do so. This Saturday my mentee and I are going to see a play called Cinderella Eats Rice and Beans. How could the weekend be anything less than great with a play like that to look forward to? Plus, my mentee is always a riot to hang out with.

  Anyhow, this entry is getting long and is written like I am an insane woman who’s high on life and lots and lots of caffeine. The whole point of my blogging tonight was supposed to be to post my tutoring philosophy statement that I had to write (in all my spare time this week—ha!) to accompany my observation at the writing center. My job there is really important to me and I honestly love it, but it is oftentimes difficult to explain what it is that I do there when people ask. My official title is Writing Consultant, but since that is really vague and not quite indicative of what my actual role there is, if you are curious, you can read my little statement to find out more about what this wonderful job entails. If you are not curious—I don’t blame you. I’m sure my life isn’t as fascinating as it feels to me in this moment and this entry is already growing to monstrous proportions. But I think it is worth posting, so here it is. Enjoy! As always, thanks for reading.
  ________________________________________________________________________
  Being Maureen
  An Approach to Writing Consultation
  © The Author, 2005

  I rarely know the full scope of my ideas without verbalizing them. It is not until I hear my musings out loud that I feel a true ownership of them. I need a sounding board in order to possess my thoughts fully. My ideal sounding board is a trusted ally who is committed to helping me pull the thread that will unravel the fabric of my concept to revel the inner-workings of it. A good sounding board cultivates an environment and relationship based on trust and respect where I am able to defend my ideas without feeling defensive; when meeting with this intellectual equal I feel both challenged and nurtured.

  I met my ideal sounding board in middle school; she was my best friend Maureen. Both Maureen and I were avid readers, artists, dreamers, and journal writers. We loved to read our journals aloud to one another. Originally we shared our writing—ranging in topic from the injustice of brusel sprouts and parents to the absurdity of belly buttons and udders—to simply bond with each other. Soon though, our readings became a way for us to receive feedback and to explore our ideas further. Our fun game was the catalyst that let us evolve into the sophisticated writers and thinkers that we now are as adults. Maureen was my first writing consultant and she was my first student. I so enjoyed the experience that I have always made sure to seek out creative peers to help me develop my ideas like she did.

  Seeking out creative peers has not always been easy. After high school, I moved away from my hometown to attend Eastern Michigan University. Like many college freshmen, I felt very detached from any community there. I was unable to find a creative safe-haven that welcomed me fully and nurtured my ideas. Without having a creative community to indulge me with their opinions on my writing and artistic process, not only did I grapple with understanding the breadth of my own thoughts, but I had no motivation to create writing or art to express them. For the first time in my life, I did not write anything. Without a trusted ally to act as my sounding board, I was crippled as an artist and my emotional well being suffered. I became restless with fragmented concepts; I became hesitant to make a decision. I was depressed.

  Transferring to Columbia in my sophomore year promised something different. Columbia students have an enormous advantage over their peers at other academic institutions. Although all new students leave behind the people they trust to share their creative selves with back home, Columbia College students have the Columbia College Writing Center to provide comparable creative support—or at least that’s what I strive to do here. It is my sincere pleasure to be that creative ally to writers at Columbia College Chicago.

  I am a writing consultant because I understand a person’s need for a sounding board. Also, however lofty a goal it may seem, I believe that ultimately society will suffer if individuals are unable to express themselves eloquently and fully. More importantly, the individuals who are unable to articulate their thoughts may have their happiness and health clouded by frustration and angst. I can not watch people struggle when I know I might be able to help them by doing something as natural as acting as their sounding board.

  It is simple enough to state that my philosophy as a writing consultant is to act as a sounding board for student writers, but the methods I use to employ that philosophy are very specific, multi-faceted, and they leave me happily exhausted at the end of the day.

  At the beginning of an hour-long session with a student writer, I always ask the writer how his or her writing life is coming along and how their “real life” is currently affecting it. When engaging in this initial dialogue with my writers, I really listen to them. My body leans towards them, I am making eye contact, I am careful not to interrupt, and my face is open. From the very begging, I like to create an environment where the writer feels listened to and respected.

  When the writer is ready to read his or her work aloud, I am sure to make a copy of the piece, so that I can be sure I am never marking my notes (note taking is a part of my intellectual process) on the author’s paper. I encourage the writer to make their own marks if they are note takers. I also ask the writer if there is anything in particular he or she is focusing on with this draft. This enables me to pay special attention to it.

  After the reading is over and it is time to discuss the work, first and foremost, I inquire what the author thought about the piece after reading it aloud. Oftentimes authors hear something new in the work day to day, even if they are on the third of fourth draft. I try to format thought provoking questions and observations about the specific items that the author noticed during this particular read, in order to make sure we are discussing the items that the writer is interested in working on.

  Next, I facilitate a conversation about the items for which the writer requested special attention prior to the reading. Most of the time, these areas are those that the student writer is eager to hear someone else’s feedback on. When providing my feedback, I am always careful to use specific examples to support my points. I try to phrase my statements during this portion of the session in a very gentle, task oriented way such as, “You mentioned prior to the reading that you wanted to look out for run on sentences. There seems to be one on the third page, second paragraph. Would you like to go over ways to break those two thoughts up, or do you feel pretty confident about how to handle that particular instance?” The students are often able to amend the issue immediately, but if they aren’t able to and we refer to A Writer’s Reference together, at least they don’t come away from the session feeling as if their tutor assumed that they were anything less than intellectual equals.

  It is important to me that the student writers that I consult feel ownership of his or her work and that they direct its progress. With these goals in mind, I am very conscientious—both in life and in tutoring sessions—never to use the word should. This word is dangerous and it strips the writer of their ownership. If I do need to communicate that something is incorrect, I try not to say, “You should put in a comma here.” I really make an effort to say, “I might consider putting a comma here if I were writing this sentence. It really gives the items in your list distinction when you separate them with a comma, which is why grammar gurus consider it a rule. Am I making sense?” When I use phrases like this, writers are more receptive to learning this rule and their status as my intellectual equal is not threatened. If they seem to feel silly or worse, apologetic for their misunderstanding of cosmetic items like spelling and grammar, I always remind them that we are equals and that they know plenty of things that I am clueless about. It is important to the effectiveness of my sessions that the writer never loose touch with that.

  Tying up the session, I am always eager to offer words of genuine encouragement. Reading is one of my passions, and I find this very useful when offering words of support. I often find myself saying things like, “You know, I read an article in The New Yorker the other week that incorporated the author’s cultural heritage with his eating habits like you do in this essay. If you ever consider submitting your writing for publication, you could revisit this piece—you’ve obviously got a very publishable approach to discussing your cultural heritage.” The student writers that I have the privilege of seeing really do have phenomenal ideas, and oftentimes my acknowledgment of that gives the writer a reason to really put in the elbow grease it takes to make a great concept into a publishable product.

  I strive to build a relationship with student writers that demonstrates my dedication to helping them express exactly what they feel. I am adamant that the student writer acts as the authority on his or her work—I just serve the author as a friendly representative of their larger audience, telling them what I hear in their work, questions I have about it, and connections I make to it. I assure my writers that I am committed to help them express their message—I will never tell them what they should want to say. I want my students to feel safe, un-judged, and celebrated. In short, I try to be a “Maureen” to every writer I have the pleasure of consulting.
  ____________________________________________________________________________________________________
  P.S.
  What happened during your last beautiful week?

  • 11:07 pm
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