Indiana University Press just accepted my essay, “Looking for Bloomington” for their forthcoming anthology, Undeniably Indiana. The book will come out in August 2016.
A converstion with my colleague Catherine Cefalu on the idea of “Effective Philanthropy”…
Decide what the goal of the group is and communicate it clearly. Generally, there are two types of writing groups: writing date groups and workshopping groups. The goal of a writing date group is to devote time to writing; the goal of a workshopping group is to, well, workshop. Some groups do a mix of the two. Regardless of the set up, communicate clearly to the participants what the purpose of the group is. It’s frustrating for everyone if a writer shows up expecting to get feedback and doesn’t, or if someone shows up expecting to have time blocked out for writing and doesn’t get it.
Figure out a regular meeting place or at least a regular way of communicating where you’ll be meeting. Inconsistent meeting times or places is swift way to kill a writing group, especially if the participants don’t know each other well. The point of a writing group is to focus your energy on writing–if you have to spend energy figuring out logistics, then that’s less energy spent on the actual writing. Here are the pros and cons of a couple of common meeting places:
a) Libraries: My favorite place to meet writing groups–they’re free, they are open to all ages, they are usually open until at least 8pm, and they often have meeting rooms or study tables available. The Chicago Public Library system just launched an online reservation system for their meeting rooms, which is one of the most exciting things that happened this summer (I lead a quiet life). The cons? You usually need a library card to make a reservation, there might be a lot of competition for particular time slots, no food or drink to purchase.
b) Coffeeshops: They are popular with writers for a reason, you can watch people without engaging with them, there are table and chairs and outlets and often WiFi, baristas are used to people writing there, coffeeshops are open to all ages, and of course, there’s readily available bean juice. Cons include: you generally can’t reserve areas, which can be a problem is your writing group is big and there’s less privacy if you’re workshopping. Further, while you can get away with just writing and not buying anything, it’s not recommended if you want to stay in the good graces of the staff–and if you’re meeting there regularly, you want to be in their good graces.
c) Private Homes: I occaisionally run writing group session out of my home–it is convenient to the organizer, you can bring or make food, the group can stay as long as they want (provided you’ve worked it out with your roommates or partner), there’s lots of privacy if you are workshopping stuff that you don’t feel like shouting over the rattle of coffeecups.* However, I’ve found that doing workshops or writing date sessions in a private home can feel more like a social get together which means it’s easy for the writers to get distracted. And of course, there’s the safety and comfort issue–not everyone feels comfortable going to someone’s house, especially if you don’t know the host well. And if your’re the host, it means you have to tidy up somewhat.**
d) Unusual spots: During National Novel Writing Month, there’s a lot of writing meet ups in unexpected places such as museums, hookah bars, train cars, and theatres. There’s something really fun about meeting in place you don’t normally write in, it can spark creativity and be a good way to get out of a rut. But of course, those places are less convenient–limited space, ticketed entry, etc.
If you are workshopping, have some agreed upon guidelines. There are a lot of methods for workshopping, this post isn’t advocating a particular method but I do think that workshop participants should have an idea of what to expect (will they get written notes? Are they allowed to respond to comments?). If there are rules you want to lay down, make that clear from the beginning (such as submitting no more than 10 pages, or submitting at least a week in advance).
If you are meeting to just get writing done, still structure the session. I run a chapter of Just Write Chicago, in which we do exactly that–just write. However, our writing sessions still have a regular format: we just write for about an hour and a half, then we spend 20-30 minutes introducing ourselves and talking about any writing issues that have come up that week. Having a regular format helps focus the writing time and pushes folks to actually get stuff done, which is the point of writing date type groups. I’m also a big fan of actually talking to people at the end of a writing session, it helps build community and gives people a chance to network. And who else is going to listen to you talk about your imaginary friends that live on the page?
Think about community management. If you are organizing a group of humans, whether it be a writing group, a sports team, or a rag-tag heist gang, you are going to have to think about community. What are your values as a community and how do you practice them? Do you want your writing group to focus on a particular demographic, such as novice writers, or working parents? If so, how do you make your group accessible and helpful to them? Similarly, if you value having a space for diverse experiences and voices, it’s worth looking at the specific ways white writers in workshop groups disregard writers of color and the ways in which women are disregarded by men in co-ed meetings so you can avoid those pitfalls. Yes, it’s a lot to think about, but these issues are going to exist regardless of whether or not you address them–so you might as well be a responsible organizer and deal with them.
Check in with the group and yourself every so often. I used to be really bad about this and would keep on attending or running a writing group, regardless of whether or not it was useful or fun for me. It should be at least one of those things, preferably both. So check in with everyone and see if it’s still worthwhile–people’s schedules and goals change, so sometimes even an awesome group stops working. It’s hard enough to make time for writing, don’t let a writing group get in the way of writing.
*Fun fact: In the 1940s Anais Nin ran a writing group in her apartment at the end of every month when all of her writer friends were broke and desperately trying to make rent. They ate oatmeal (because that’s all they could afford), wrote naughty stories for about twelve hours straight, then sold them to a mysterious collector who paid by the page. Flush with cash, the writers paid their rent and went on writing their novels and plays for the rest of the month. Everyone won!
** For me, that usually means running around about 10 minutes before people arrive, frantically shoving laundry in the bedroom
Last week I got back from that special time of year for all prospect researchers…APRA International’s Annual Prospect Development Meeting! For the non-prospect researchers out there, APRA International is the primary professional organization for prospect researchers, managers, and affiliates. The once a year international conference is 4+ days of workshops, seminars, vendor demos, and networking. And of course, conference swag.
This year’s APRA International was full of firsts for me. First time presenting, first time meeting several researchers I’ve only interacted with through Twitter, first time time going to New Orleans, first time eating shrimp everyday for four days straight. It was all beautiful.
My colleague Catherine Cefalu does a daily recap of the conference, available on her YouTube channel here. For my part, here were questions and challenges from my colleagues that I
left APRA Prospect Development 2015 pondering:
And now, for some interesting philanthropic history…
In preparation for visiting New Orleans, I read Black Life in Old New Orleans by Keith Medley. The book was a very good introduction to New Orleans history, especially for someone like me, who has never visited NOLA and doesn’t know much about the city’s past. One chapter of the book was about Madame Marie Couvent, an 19th century philanthropist in NOLA. She was kidnapped from West Africa (specific place unknown) when she was about seven years old, and sold in Saint Dominique. After the Haitian Revolution, she emigrated to New Orleans as a free woman, married Bernard Couvent, another free black man, and proceeded to build a new life for herself and her family. When she died in 1837, her will stipulated that her property in the Faubourg-Marigny neighborhood be used for a school for orphans of color and that “…I declare that said lands and buildings shall never be sold under any pretext whatsoever.”
The land in question has been used as a school ever since. The faculty included poets,
journalists and prominent civil rights advocates. In 1890, Board of Directors president Arthur Esteves and several other directors waged a legal fight against segregated railroad cars that led to the famous United States Supreme Court case of Plessy v. Ferguson. Despite administration changes, two hurricanes, and all of the social and political changes of the last one hundred and seventy-eight years, a school continues to operate on Madame Couvent’s land. Today, the school is St. Gerard Majella Alternative School.
As I wandered through the Faubourg-Marigny and French Quarter neighborhoods, and listened to discussions on the role of philanthropy in the world, I kept thinking about Madame Couvent. On one hand, her gift was so very simple–a school. On the other hand, it was so very sophisticated–I imagine, given her lifelong fight in New Orleans on behalf of black folks and to achieve social/economic standing herself, she knew the power of education and the need for a stable employer and a community center for organizing. And she knew that anything that empowered black folks would be a threat to the established social order, so she locked the purpose of her donation, as best she could, into perpetuity. And it worked–she created something that managed to outlast and dismantle the system that kidnapped her. Madame Couvent’s story is complex and like most philanthropists, it is important to acknowledge her whole history*, but one thing I take from the story of Madame Couvent’s life is the power of thoughtful philanthropy that considers both the long-term and short term needs of a community.
* She and her husband’s activities included buying several slaves in order to free them. This was a common practice among black folks in the 19th century who wanted to free relatives and friends, since the process of manumission was convoluted and took a very long time. However, there is also evidence that Madame and Monsieur Couvent may have also engaged purchasing slaves as a financial investment. The participation in the slave economy by free people of color is complicated issue–for more information about this history and how the students of the school have engaged with Madame Couvent’s philanthropic legacy here are two articles. (Article 1) (Article 2)
This Wednesday I’ll be performing at Story Lab, a live storytelling series. Last week, I workshopped my piece with the other writers…there are some fantastic stories in the line-up and I am really excited to hear everyone’s performance.
Here are the details:
Story Lab Chicago
Black Rock Pub
3614 North Damen Ave
7:30pm, FREE ADMISSION!
At the end of June 2015, the Hauser Institute at Harvard University released a new study on Latin American philanthropy in partnership with UBS: From Prosperity to Purpose: Perspectives on Philanthropy and Social Investment among Wealthy Individuals in Latin America. Given that there is a dearth of data on Latin American philanthropy, this is pretty huge.
This was my extremely professional reaction when my colleague emailed me the news:
The study explores private giving and social investment among high net worth individuals and families in six Latin American countries, and includes an overview and individual reports on Argentina, Brazil, Chile, Colombia, Mexico, and Peru. Each report analyzes donors’ motivations and aspirations; philanthropic practices and operations; challenges and obstacles to giving; and the types of support, resources, and policy reforms that might increase giving and strengthen its impact. It is available in both English, Spanish, and Portuguese.
It’s important to note, this study surveyed wealthy people already engaged in philanthropy, so it may not be indicative of wealthy people who are not yet philanthropists nor of broader social attitudes towards giving. Nevertheless, it is a useful snapshot of how current philanthropists are thinking about their giving.
Here are some key takeaways from the interview project, there will be a follow up post featuring highlights from the Chile, Mexico, and Brazil reports.
Next, I’m digging into the individual country reports, so stay tuned!
What do I say? What do I possibly say?
I just keep thinking about the adults draping themselves over the bodies of children, playing dead so that whatshisnameisIdon’tcarewhathisname is doesn’t kill them. I keep thinking about how the families, spouses, the lovers, the children of the people murdered, mostly women, feel. What I would feel if my mother, my husband, my dearest friend was murdered at church and I wouldneverevernotinthislife see them again.
I just keep thinking about the moments before they died, the horrible moments he sat there, knowing he was going to kill them. He thought it was inevitable, but it wasn’t–he made a choice during every moment.
I just keep thinking, I want to believe that this will galvanize white people, make a lot of white people believe that racism is real, that the price of accepting it is that black people die, but I just keep thinking we had 400 years to galvanize, we had Emmett Till, and two Martins, an X, and a lot of whys, why did this happen, why did we let this happen? Why?
We let this happen because we don’t care enough to make it not happen.
We’re whateverhisnameis, sitting on the pew, acting like it’s all inevitable but it isn’t inevitable.
In the generation since the abolition of chattel slavery, we have eradicated smallpox, we have built the combustible engine, we have created goddamn Twitter. Nothing is inevitable. We live in the world that our priorities built. We lay the bricks every day.
My great-grandmother remembered the first time she could vote legally in 1920. Five years later the KKK was the ruling party of my home state because people voted them in.
A generation before my great-grandmother cast her ballot, the idea of women voting was a punchline in the funny pages. Three generations after the KKK got control of the General Assembly, the idea of publicly running as a member of their group was political suicide. But none of that was inevitable. We decided as a country that women voting was acceptable enough to put it in law and that naked white supremacy was unacceptable enough to quietly push loud public white supremacists out of the business of making laws–at least, some of the time.
When will we decide that public policies and traditions and ways of thinking that result in the disproportionate rape, incarceration, and poverty of black and brown people is unacceptable? When will we decide to see white supremacy not as an aberration, but a cornerstone of the house we built and live in? And when will we finally dismantle the house?
What can I possibly say? Except that the murders of State Senator Clementa Pinckney, Cynthia Hurd, Tywanza Sanders, Sharonda Singleton, Myra Thompson, Ethel Lance, Susie Jackson, the Rev. Daniel Simmons Sr., and DePayne Doctor were not inevitable and nor are any future deaths.
It’s our choice.
I’ve been feeling stuck for the past few months. I’ve been reading the same books, watching the same shows, making the same to-do list, heck–wearing the same outfits, over and over again, without feeling very engaged in any of it. I haven’t felt completely completely bogged down or worried about something in particular–just stuck. Spinning my wheels. Retracing my steps.
To get out of the rut, I’ve decided to do The Vein of Gold, a book of creative exercises by Julia
Cameron. It’s a follow up to The Artist’s Way, a 12 week program meant to help people reconnect with their creativity. Just about every artist I know has either done the The Artist’s Way, or knows someone who did The Artist’s Way and about 1.4 bazillion people recommended to me that I do it. In fact, so many people talked about how amazing the book is and recommended that I do The Artist’s Way, that I refused to, out of pure contrariness. I am a contrary person sometimes.
I finally decided to do The Artist’s Way in 2012. I had hit a roadblock in my job search, and I was having trouble writing, and generally feeling quite stuck and unhappy. Some of the language of The Artist’s Way was off-putting (not offensive, it was just a little sincere and earnest even for me, and I am a bleeding heart Midwestern Quaker raised by a folksinger, so I have a damn high tolerance for sincerity), but the tasks were solid. Julia Cameron focuses on getting readers to both exercise their creativity here and now, and to build a roadmap for the future.
Going through the Artist’s Way helped me figure out what I wanted in a job, which in turn helped me focus my search and led to my current position. It also helped me focus my writing more, take more creative risks, and generally get unstuck…and it made me become one of those people who recommends The Artist’s Way to other people looking to shake up their creative lives.
Thus, while I am not the same stressful position I was in 2012, I could use some re-focusing, so it’s back to Julia Cameron. Her book The Vein of Gold, like The Artist’s Way, has a series of exercises you do over several weeks.
This week, the task is to start doing morning pages, artist dates–tasks also used in The Artist’s Way. I’ve started the morning pages, which I was still doing intermittently and I’ve grown to appreciate them again. Morning pages are three pages of stream of consciousness writing, done by hand, every morning. Some people think of them as a brain dump, a way of clearing out all of the junk in their head that is getting in the way of new ideas. Others think of it as meditation. Since I have an anthropology background, I like to think of morning pages as field notes on my mind.
There is something refreshing about committing to private journaling, for writers and researchers who write for public consumption, it is easy to start thinking of all of your writing as public and to start editing as you are writing, instead of letting go during the first draft. It is also easy to value writing only if it is public–but private writing can be incredibly useful tool for working out ideas, processing experiences, and just taking risks.
If you haven’t tried morning pages, I recommend giving them a shot. Even if you aren’t interested in the creativity angle, they can be useful for stress management. A few months ago, I attended a lecture by a University of Chicago neuroscientist studying the effects of journaling on stress among students. She found that the type of journaling Cameron advocates (stream of consciousness, by hand) is particularly effective for reducing stress before tests and helping students do better on their tests.
Truth or Lie Reading Series was delightful…heard funny and poignant stories about Marilyn Monroe, skunk-traps, and men named Chad. AND people listened to me talk about hobbits, fulfilling the dreams of 11 year old Amelia. So everything is pretty cool right now.
Check out the series if you haven’t already–first Sunday of the month at Firecat Projects.
Where: 2124 N Damen Ave, Chicago, Illinois 60647
When: May 3, at 7:30 pm
How Much: Free as a very free bird…
Why: Because STORIES!