Writing Nightmares
By Luisa Athanasakos

The feeling was urgent, the fear real. I was suddenly awakened. I dreamt I was unable to complete a simple writing task. I was supposed to describe a strange bird with bluish feathers and webbed wings. It was a large and beautiful bird, but its wings looked like spider webs not exactly suited for flying. As I observed that strange bird, I began to wonder if it could actually fly. For a short time, the thought distracted me from the urgency of writing, and I was relieved. Yet in the next second despair set in. Unable to complete the assignment and alarmed by the bird’s condition, I experienced sudden panic. It seems quite trivial now, but often vivid nightmares turn unforgiving. This recent episode was triggered by my sudden inability to write during my second day at the NWP Summer Institute. I had been looking forward to attend this four week summer workshop not only to gain new insights as a teacher of writing, but also to indulge in some personal writing. This sudden lack of inspiration caught me entirely by surprise.

The first day at the Institute was spent on introductions and explorations of our life maps. Such activities were meant to guide us into reflective writing. As we started our evocative pieces, I followed mechanically, but not having written in a while, I felt rusty and uninspired. While my peers became obviously engaged in copious writing, I followed with slow tentative steps. I survived the day by producing a mediocre piece about my childhood. On the second day, we had to write again and I found myself increasingly inept. I stared at the empty page searching for words and thoughts that would not come. Sitting there completely blocked, I felt like that lame bird, paralyzed beyond words, waiting to be devoured! I had my nightmare that very night.

On the third day, still lacking inspiration, I decided to write about my nightmare. Forcing myself to recall the details of that night’s dream helped me confront my hidden fears and finally let go. It was a cathartic experience! As I wrote, I became increasingly involved in describing the beautiful bird and less concerned with my own perceived inabilities. As I described the bird’s injured wings, I realized that they just needed some mending and time to grow the broken feathers. I knew that broken bird would fly again!

During the next two weeks, we continued to work on evocative pieces. No longer frozen, I began to share my writing within the safety of small peer groups. I experienced first hand the benefits of having an audience and belonging to a community of writers. I listened to my own words as I read them aloud. I waited for reactions and welcomed feedback. I reflected. I revised. I, along with my peers, also practiced our best listening skills. In acts of “give and take” as Karen Spears (1988) would say, we found the equilibrium to draw and expand the speaker-writer’s thoughts, without replacing them with our own. The results were amazing! On Author’s Chair Day, we were all proud of what we had accomplished, both as writers and as listeners. Yet, I was reminded that achieving that equilibrium had not been an easy task. Something I must keep in mind when implementing peer-centered writing in my own classroom. Students thrive in collaborative environments, but they need to be coached not only in the act of writing, but also in the skills of reading, listening, and giving effective feedback to each other and eventually to themselves as they internalize the process.

Other activities at the Institute included reading pertinent material that inspired us to reflect and reconsider our assumptions on writing. The readings were followed by group discussions and written exchanges that lead us into deep levels of inquiry. We examined with Flower & Hayes (1981) not only our written products, but more importantly, the intellectual processes which contribute to their creation. We focused on writing not as a simple linear process of stages, but rather as a complex evolving act of problem solving and discovery within the context of various demanding social environments. We not only considered the writer but also the reader and the influence of personal histories and power dynamics that come into play. Within this fertile context, we excavated ideas that have definite practical implications for our teaching.

Considering students’ personal backgrounds, cultivating their intellectual skills of observation, imagination, and inquiry, as well as encouraging expression of their individual voices were always part of my teaching, but now I understand more clearly the importance of raising critical awareness of reader exigencies and diverse discourse communities. Most importantly, I reevaluated the advantages of giving back ownership of the learning to my students, guiding them through many paths, but allowing them to make their own discoveries while using writing to construct meaning and achieve personal growth.

The last two weeks at the Institute were spent in preparation for our teaching demonstration. As we focused on pedagogy and research, other practical questions surfaced for ongoing debate and inquiry. What works in our classrooms? Why? How could we improve our teaching practices? The writings of George Hillocks (1995) inspired us to engage in ongoing reflection to create “optimal learning environments.” He even provided step-by-step demonstrations on how to develop “gateway activities” to help students move through progressive “zones of proximal development.” Through this work, we revisited Vygotsky and reconsidered the importance of social support and language in learning.

After four weeks of intense work at the Summer Institute, I feel a great deal was accomplished by our community of teacher-writers. I rediscovered the joy of writing and found the inspiration to continue this personal endeavor on a more regular basis. More importantly, by revisiting the act of writing I gained new insights into the world of the student-writer and recaptured empathy and new tools to improve my facilitation. I have grown through repeated acts of reflection in writing. I plan to continue this journey with my students. I will follow the blue bird of my distant dream. It now flies with wings no longer broken. Newly grown healthy feathers help it soar in graceful motion towards high distant horizons!

REFERENCES

• Spear, K. (1988). Sharing Writing. Portsmouth: Heinemann.
  
• Flower, L., Hayes, J. R. (1981). A cognitive process theory of writing. College Composition and Communication, 32, 365-387.
  
• Hillocks, G., Jr. (1995). Teaching Writing as Reflective Practice. New York: Teachers College Press.