I tried a writing workshop online with the New York Public Library. Why didn’t I try it sooner?
For reasons I can illustrate. I was worried about others critiquing my work. I was worried that I would hear my own doubt coming out of someone else’s month. I was worried my writing was not good enough, which in turn meant I am not good enough. I was worried I would stop writing because of the criticism. That would break my heart! Keep writing, regardless, kid. Keep writing.
Oh, how glad I am to have tried the workshop!
My voice matters. I am strong enough to handle the harsh critics. Of course, I am. I have to remind myself over and over to ignore the voice that makes me small. It is not my own voice. Plus, in reality, I got positive and encouraging feedback. How silly it is to hide?
The workshop experience gave me more courage to talk about my work and listen to what others have to say. On top of that, being able to experience others work, especially the first draft, is a gift. I felt alive throughout the workshop. The type of vast and unstoppable aliveness I experience, only when I am writing. It is such a joy to share my love for words and literature with others.
I am so proud of myself for standing up for other women’s writings and celebrating their unique experiences. I voiced my support for their exploration. That’s refreshing and empowering for me to experience. A sense of comrade and being understood. Being understood, is a powerful gift.
I would not be able to experience that had I not joined the workshop. The facilitator is wonderful. He created a safe space for us to share. Thank you Isaiah!
Critiquing someone’s work is new to me and I am learning. Helpful suggestions help the writer to take action and make changes. I want to keep that in mind. It is equally important to hear all the suggestions and make a decision for yourself. Stand up for your own writing and do not tear it apart and change it to be something far from your heart to please others.
Other writers provided some helpful feedback for me to continue making edits to my poem. I am excited to see how far I could take it.
I am asking myself to continue writing and commit to this craft. That’s what it means to be my own woman. Being able to commit to something that matters to me; to come to my own power and accept the responsibility that comes with the power; to write in my own voice; to give other immigrant women permission to write their own story and encourage them to claim their own voice.
That’s a noble commitment. A worthy commitment to show up and write for.
