Teaching Writing is a Problatunity.

I’d like to use a word I just read in a book, used by an actual doctor, which makes it a real word. The word is problatunity. My Grammarly app just put a big red line under that word telling me I better fix it. I’ll use it in a sentence: Teaching writing is a problatunity.

Don’t you just love when people take two words and smoosh them together and make a new word? Why not? Its two things we know, problem and opportunity, and creating something new and more delicious. Like the first person who decided to put peanut butter and jelly into the same sandwich. Problatunity.

Yes, it’s a problem and an opportunity. In order to turn that frown upside down, let’s focus on the bright spots, build on the strengths, and look for what’s working.

Here’s some opportunities:

Writing is connection. A writer uses craft and structure to reach out into the world, searching for another heart and mind to create a spark. A spark, which if tended and encouraged can become a fire, giving warmth and comfort.

Writing is expression. It’s art. We have this desire to be seen and loved for who we really are. Writing is a mirror for ourselves and others. It shows us the way, or reminds us of what is important.

Writing is a conversation, happening regardless of time and space. If there were no one to read the writing, would it still be writing? If a tree falls in the woods…

Here’s some problems:

Writing is a privilege. There are many who might like the freedom to raise their voice without persecution. Most of the time the persecution comes from the very same pen that did the writing in the first place.

Writing is translation. It is essentially trying to express abstract thoughts into organized concrete symbols on a page in a way that conveys meaning. Think of all the processes those thoughts have to go through, all the decisions that have to be made. Ug, it’s exhausting. I’m exhausted right now.

Writing is hard. Words on a page are tangible, real. Words you write have the potential to stay. Anything you write can and will be used against you. Yes, we have freedom of speech in this country, but a verbal contract just isn’t what it used to be. I’m just sayin’, seems like writing matters a bit more.

Writing is rules. Every good writer knows the rules. All of them? And how do you use a semicolon again? Don’t get me started on spelling.

Here’s the problatunity:

Lampposts on a dark and dreary night

According to something called the Standford Study of Writing, we are in a writing revolution folks. Hallelujah. More people are writing now than ever before: social media, emails, reports, books, posters, blog posts, etc. Writing is actually working. As in, it’s doing some work in the world. Writing is creating change. And as things change, rules change.

However, the rules may not be changing, we are. This writer calls rules lampposts in an ash-ridden apocalypse. Boy do I love me some lampposts on a dark and dreary night.

Maybe this means we actually like rules, just not when they hold us back. We want to get out there and create new rules, rules that keep us safe but also allow us to explore and discover and create our own rules.

Its kinda hilarious that the problem is almost always the solution. Life, this funny thing. Rules are the way, know them, break them. I’m sure some yoda-like character said that in some movie, somewhere.

Here’s the application:

How can we take what is working in the world and recognize it in our students? That’s really what we should be doing every day right? Seeing ability in our kids, naming it for and with them, and guiding them through how to use it in powerful ways.

Students are learning the rules. All the time. Rules for this classroom are different than the rules in that classroom. Rules for the cafeteria, rules for the playground. Rules for friendships, rules for safety, and on and on we go.

To be honest. I love rules. I almost dare say I can’t function without them. When I walk into a room, I immediately try to figure out the rules. Knowing the rules helps me understand how to behave, because I also like to have fun. Having fun usually includes breaking the little rules. The really tiny rules. The ones no one really cares about. Ya, I’m that crazy party animal breaking all the tiny invisible rules. Back it up everyone.

The point is, how can we teach our kids the rules, but also how to break them?

Let’s remember that the rules for writing are lampposts. They are guidelines. Practice. Write every single day. Play. We learn the rules and we decide if they apply today. Writing, people, I’m talking about writing.

Here’s the Practice:

When teaching writing in our classrooms, we want our students to see more of the opportunities and less of the problems. It is time to lower the stakes. Low-stakes writing is defined by where the value is placed. As teacher’s we often place all the value in writing on the rules, otherwise known as grammar and conventions.

What if we emphasized the value of the student thought, expression, and ideas? Students have learned to keep quiet. Specifically, “be quiet” is generally a rule in education. Let’s break it.

What if we develop a practice of writing where none of the rules matter? What matters is that they stop editing and revising their thinking before it ever even gets to the page. You can bet they have a lot to say. I dare you to sit down with an eleven year old and ask them about anything.

Here’s the Magic:

Set a timer. Set it for 2 minutes. Stop. Count your words. Set a goal for more words tomorrow. Share your writing if you want.

That’s it folks. The magic is in the time limit. Its the only rule.

Ah, and rules are meant to be broken.

Read my 6 Big Reasons to Love a Writer’s Notebook post for additional classroom structures that will have your students loving writing and you reading their minds!

What Do You Do With A Problem by Kobi Yamada speaks to everything I have mentioned above and is a powerful read for humans.

“When the child finally musters up the courage to face it, the problem turns out to be something quite different than it appeared.”

Ish by Peter H. Reynolds is one of my favorite mentor texts for supporting students as they learn to let go and write a first draft.

A creative spirit learns that thinking “ish-ly” is far more wonderful than “getting it right.

Five Minutes to Start a New Story

Change is hard, but with a little hope, optimism, and 5 minutes, we can stop waiting for something to happen, and start a new story.

waiting to change

The authors of Switch, How to Change Things When Change is Hard, remind me that “Change brings new choices that create uncertainty.” We get overwhelmed because most of us are on auto pilot most of the time. Auto pilot is not bad. It helps us to maintain energy levels, so we can use that energy to make decisions. I hate having to decide every day now what is important and what isn’t. It used to be easier: get up early, morning routines, get to work, evening routines, go to bed.

Now, I find myself staring out the window a lot. Waiting for something. Waiting for life to go back to normal, but not wanting it to.  Waiting to love the life I have right now.  Waiting to buy new clothes, to wear to my new job, that I am waiting for. Waiting for an opportunity to travel, to feel safe at the grocery store. Waiting to feel safe around other people at all. Ug, so much waiting.

Change is hard, but it’s also an opportunity. Vince Lombardi is famous for his determination to win, and all that. I’m not sure I love his quotes, and I know things get all misconstrued. He said something about how quitters never win, but it depends on how you look at it. He also said that hope is not a strategy, but again, there are extenuating circumstances.

hope is a little messy

My daughter reminded me that messed up hope is still something to be grateful for.

In this moment, hope is kinda my only strategy.

The Harvard Business review published an article appropriately titled Hope is a Strategy (Well Sort Of). They talk about realistic optimism, and refer to a quote by Carmin Mendina “Optimism is the greatest act of rebellion.”

So, I hereby rebel. I am going to be optimistic, and pretend that things are going to work out for the best.

But, I am pretty tired of waiting. It’s ridiculous to try to plan for next month, or next week, or even tomorrow at this point. I think you can still have optimistic and hopeful viewpoint, without being certain about anything. However, waiting isn’t a good strategy, for me anyway.

Start something for 5 minutes

Set a timer and do the thing.

I recently started looking for ways to be a bit more creative with my writing. In my classroom, before beginning any kind of writing assignment, we would go to the scholastic website and choose a story starter. The challenge was to write as many words as you could, on the chosen topic, for 5 minutes.

Most fourth graders don’t really love to write. I guess they have learned by this point in their career, that there are too many rules, and its a task that is never finished. We all know that feeling of staring at a blank page, and no words are coming out. Writer’s block is a real thing.

It was different with the 5 minute story starters. The topic would always be a bit silly, and they knew there weren’t really any rules, except they had to write for the full 5 minutes. Even my most reluctant writers would participate. Many were getting close to a hundred words written in just 5 minutes!

The best part came at the end of the 5 minutes, when I would ask for volunteers to share their writing. Almost everyone wanted to read aloud what they had written. The writing was good! They were creative, descriptive, and taking risks.

Five minute challenge

Anyone can stick it out for five minutes. Even a five year old can commit to a task for that long. This is especially true for those of us who are feeling overwhelmed by all the changes we have had to make over the past few weeks.

I even decided to start my own little five minute creative writing challenge in my daily writing. The Story Starter.com has an idea generator for grown ups, and it has been fun for me to try my hand at something that is pretty difficult for me.

Five minutes to start a story, or clean the bathroom, reconcile accounts. It just doesn’t seem so bad anymore.

I might still stare out the window and wait for things to change on their own. Maybe I will set a timer, and let myself do that for a short time. Then I will get back to reality and be intentional and outrageously optimistic for 5 minutes.

For more five minute inspiration, check out the fly lady? She is still around after 20 years of blogging about change. Her philosophy is simple. Just do something for five minutes.

UPDATE:

I love it when I find something that just goes with something I already have, or do. This is an awesome video about using 5 minutes at the end of your day to reflect and write down the most important thing from the day. Over time, you will develop a sense for your life as moments. Important, beautiful moments, that are your story, and part of a bigger story.

Rough Drafts and Bad Gardening Advice

In January, with the support of a local padawan, I proclaimed 2020 to be an epic year, the year of the cinnamon roll. It’s shaping up to pretty epic alright. Quarantine is ok, so far. (I’m only a couple of weeks in, so check back on me later.) I have more time to write, go for long walks, ride bikes, read books, not garden, etc.

Still, after a year of posting somewhat regularly on my blog, and hoping to be a real life published author someday, a local magazine accepted a rough draft of mine about writing stories. Durango Neighbor magazine only publishes in the real world, as in, not digitally. So, I can’t link to an article. Just look really close at the picture! It’s a real thing folks. Thank goodness you can try something and it kind of works sometimes!

My first published article! Durango Neighbor Magazine
Clearing the Land

The great thing about having my article published was that it actually wasn’t that hard, at least the writing part. Publishers really do just want content. In simpler words, we just have to try.

Ann Lamott has a book called Bird by Bird, where she explains so clearly how writing and life have almost everything in common. If you are not a writer, maybe your are here for the bad gardening advice. Why would you want that? I heard Erin Loechner say in an interview with Hope Writers that doing a brain dump is like clearing the land, so something useful can be made in its place. Like planting a garden, or building a house, you’ve got to clear out the old roots, and rocks and shrubs to prepare for something more useful in it’s place.

Almost all of my writing could be called clearing the land. I have to clear land every morning. For whatever reason, night time is when all these weedy thoughts build up in my mind, and if I don’t get rid of them, they become like this awful jungle vine that takes over all my rational, smart, productive thoughts. So, not all my gardening advice is bad, you’ve got to do the weeding.

Daffodils and Mint, Let Things Grow
The daffodils that worked!

The steps for writing and gardening are similar: clear the land, let things grow, pay attention. Wait, those aren’t the steps are they? Did I forget the planting part? After years of trying to garden, I have learned how little control I have over the success of it. No matter how high the fence, the deer always get in. I either over water, or let things dry out. Just when I think I have things figured out, and early frost comes in. Writing rough drafts, and gardening, have taught me how important it is to let some things go.

Still, there is the daffodils and the mint. They are wonderful proof of trying something and paying attention. The daffodils and the mint are rough drafts that worked. I planted them years ago, and they dutifully pop out every year, even though I don’t really take care of them. Sometimes you can’t really see them under all the leaves that should have been raked, and old weeds, but they are there! When I write anything, I always hope the words will become daffodils and mint. That they will be useful or beautiful. I just don’t always know. It’s OK that I don’t have control over how my words will turn out. At least I am trying to say something, to grow something, and it doesn’t have to be perfect. This is life, to try something, and then pay attention.

Pay Attention

After you have cleared the land (dumped your thoughts), let some things grow (written a rough draft), pay attention. Read it without making any changes, just see what pops up. I always do this at least a day later. You’ve got to get away from it for a while. It takes a whole year for daffodils and mint to show up again. Go back with fresh eyes, and newly cleared land the next day. Almost every time, I end up rewriting the whole thing, but not until I have given it a chance to show me what’s there. This is the tenth revision and I’m almost ready to hit publish.

The first draft of this post was intended to be about myself, as a walking breathing rough draft, but the second or third time through, I remembered the daffodils and the mint. Why would daffodils and mint remind me of writing? I resonated with the clearing the land metaphor, which led to my failed attempts at gardening, which reminded me about rough drafts, and my love for them.

I’m sure this post doesn’t make much sense. It’s still a rough draft after all!

Becoming Hospitable to Ideas for Writing

I am focusing most of my efforts this year on being hospitable,” the friendly and generous reception and entertainment of guests, visitors, or strangers, ” as defined by google. As the anxiety of what that statement will mean for me rises, I plan to practice this skill on ideas first, and people later.

May the Force be with you

Perhaps the reason I feel the need to be hospitable this year, is because I feel like something is coming. Something awesome. This is to be the year of the cinnamon roll, as I explained in my previous post.

On New Year’s Eve, I met a 7 year old boy, with a light saber, and a fresh padawan haircut. He told me to have a very happy new year. What happened next confirmed my suspicion that 2020 is going to be epic. I swear the he looked right into my soul and said, “May the Force be with you.” Oh yeah, and…. it was his birthday.

Now, there are too many incredible things about this to deny this was a specific message and blessing coming to me from a true Jedi in training. I mean, how is this different than if I had met a genuine medicine man, in Bali, reading my palm and proclaiming my future? It isn’t. Technically, only one of these things could actually happen in real life, as Elizabeth Gilbert described in Eat, Pray, Love.

According to Wookieepedia, a site I have recently discovered for all things Star Wars, when someone says “May the Force be with you,” they are wishing you well in the face of an impending challenge. I am wise enough to know that the year ahead is paved with boulders and sheer drop offs, so how to honor the blessing I received ?By getting organized and making a plan.

Creating a space

The writing nook formerly known as office closet

Goal setting reminds me a little too much about being SMART, and lets just say, I’m taking a little break from that for now. Instead, I’m choosing to focus on building habits. Creating a habit becomes so much easier when you set up a supportive environment.

Throughout life, I have always shared space with others. It seems like a luxury to have a whole room to myself. I mean a place to close the door and decorate the walls with whatever I want. So, I decided to give myself our office closet. It’s just big enough to be hospitable. Marion Roach Smith teaches that “being hospitable begins with preparing a clean, well-lighted desk, and reporting to it each day,” in her book The Memoir Project. The closet is all cleaned out, and ready to host lots of ideas.

My little closet will now and forever be lovingly referred to as the writing nook, which is just so much more inviting. For now, its an affordable space for ideas to stay on a budget. Hopefully, it will be renovated someday to a quaint cottage with a garden, or a mountain resort where ideas are making reservations in advance to make their way into my writing.

Value your work

Little ways of being hospitable to ideas

In spite of not having a “writing nook” over the past year, I have still established a writing habit. Spiral bound notebooks are the easiest for me to fill. They are cheap, and therefore less pressure, and they provide the space. I was being hospitable without even knowing it. It’s not like I was providing a bed and breakfast for ideas, but they could crash on my couch. I mean, I’m not a monster.

Most importantly, my new writing nook is not only a gift, but its physical proof of a promise I am making to myself. I can do this, my work is important. Heck, I’m using it right now to write this post. It’s quiet, and all my resources are handy. I know I don’t need the space to create. That in itself is proof that I can do this. I truly do have everything I need already inside me to become an author. Maybe it will even help me be more welcoming to people?

I am not a Jedi in training, nor is it my birthday. Maybe you are already hospitable to ideas and people. Still, I hope that whatever comes this year the Force will be with you.

Thanks for reading!

Like Butter on Pancakes, or What I’ve learned after a Year of Writing

There is a wonderful children’s book called Like Butter on Pancakes by Johnathan London that describes the perfect day in the country where the sun streams in and melts on your pillow. Butter on pancakes is an appropriate metaphor to describe the blessings and hardships of the year, and developing a habit of writing.

The pancakes, or the stuff the butter sits on

I really like butter, pancakes not so much. Even science is coming around to the fact that butter is probably good for you. Turns out, pancakes are just the thing that holds all the good stuff. You can’t just eat a plate of butter and syrup. I guess you could, but you might not feel very good about it.

This year has been a plate full of pancakes. Like, all you can eat pancakes for me, emotionally. Remember, I said I don’t really like pancakes. They aren’t even sweet enough to be called cakes. They are just a flat piece of heavy kinda cooked dough. 2019 was a giant stack of dry, thick pancakes that I could’ve choked on if not for the butter.

In order to tackle the stacks, I set a goal at the beginning of 2019 that I would write 500 words every day. In order to stop complaining, I started a blog and named it Rachel What If.. and even published something almost every month. A brain dump in a spiral notebook each morning is an invaluable way to put things in their proper place, instead of vomiting them in random conversations where they don’t belong.

Butter, or the good stuff I’ve learned

Aside from the constant love and support of my family as I struggled through this year, developing a writing habit has been the butter. Butter makes everything richer, easier to swallow. Here are the big takeaways from this year:

  • You have to understand yourself before you can understand others.
  • Stop being so disappointed in yourself so you can stop being disappointed in others.
  • When you love yourself fully, you listen to your tears, are compassionate about your shortcomings, and understand your anxiety as a gift from your better, wiser self.
  • Love and fear can be in the same room at the same time, but fear cannot be the one making any decisions.

Writing is how I introduce myself to myself. It is how I find out things I thought I had forgotten. It is how I discover what I really think, and how I get rid of all the stuff that doesn’t matter.

Some of the most relevant books I read this year by Elizabeth Gilbert, Ann Lamott, and Stephen King allow me to put things in perspective.

The Cinnamon Roll, or A Year of Rachel What If

If I could eat anything for breakfast, without guilt, or gaining lots of weight, it would be warm gooey cinnamon rolls. There is butter all through those babies. In fact, maybe 2020 will be the year of the cinnamon rolls.

As I think about this last year, I wouldn’t take back a single pancake. While considering what to call the blog a year ago, I settled on Rachel What If because what if is the very beginning. It’s the place where all good stories start.

I’ve been reading Stephen King’s book On Writing, and this morning, he reminded me again why the name of my blog is so appropriate. He says on page 169, “The most interesting situations can usually be expressed as a What If question.” Reading this at this time, I know it’s more than a coincedence. The year of writing that began with a What If question: What if I am a writer? It’s pretty cool to have lived a year of it.

Look what I just found laying around the house. Coincidence? I think not.