15. Idolize Your Teachers

I spent Valentine's Day weekend in Chicago celebrating my writing relationship - my often touchy and emotional whirl with words. At AWP (Association of Writers and Writing Programs), I was courted, not by chocolates or red roses, but by panels of writers and teachers who were there to jump start my feelings about being a part of this love affair that has, lately, made me wonder why I entered into this complicated relationship to begin with. It worked. Partly due to the vast numbers of people who believed in writing and teaching writing (and know what an MFA is). Partly due to the fancy (no free internet) glitz of the Hilton. Mostly, however, my love affair with writing was rekindled upon bumping into some of my writing idols - those Greencastle writing forces who helped me add writer to my list of titles.

You don't just bump into people at AWP. It's way too big. But, during a mid-session bathroom break, I spotted Barbara Bean, the last professor I took at DePauw, a cheerleader and a critic - the best kind of professor. Then, in a session about why Nonfiction writers often get it wrong, in walks Peter Graham. "You don't know me, but I graduated from DePauw and was a writing major," I said after tap-tap-tapping him on the shoulder. I didn't tell him I most desperately wanted to write a memoir like his wife's, Lili Wright's Learning to Float. I didn't tell him that I often gazed through the window that separated me and my professor's personal lives and decided that I wanted an existence just like that. I didn't tell him that Pittsburgh is not Greencastle. Its potholes and rain and lack of small karaoke bars make it really hard to cling onto the vision of an idyllic professorship at a small Liberal Arts college. I did tell him to say hello to Greg Schwipps, advisor-extraordinaire, who, 10 years after completing his MFA will publish his first book, What This River Keeps, this spring. 

For the first time since becoming an MFA candidate at Pitt, I felt a little more like a writer.  A little more like this writing business is a part of my identity. And, since it was Valentine's Day, I chalked these sightings up to fate - the stars had, of course, aligned. In this relationship, there are cheerleading critics that, though distant, can send a little spark to help me keep working through the kinks of this shaky marriage.

Maybe I never fell in love with writing. Maybe I fell in love with the teachers of writing, the idea of being like my teachers and the exhilaration of feeling both humbled and successful during a workshop. I fell in love with the writing experience. Valentine's Day weekend was a perfect opportunity for a little boost - a little reminder of why I write and why the experience of writing can contribute to a long lasting, healthy courtship with words.