Yesterday, I went to a gathering of women with at least one connection between us. The purpose of the meeting was unclear but the hostess did pose some questions for each attendee to answer as a way of introduction. What is your greatest passion? How do you make a difference in the world? What do you do to affect a change?
Because of my proximity, I went second. I followed someone
who was very present in their job, as the event was actually held at her place
of employment. Nevertheless, she promoted events coming up and as this was her
job, she did it well. I followed her and took her lead.
I talked about the work I've done over the past 10 years as retailer/wholesaler,
working with women to bring them economic development. I talked about my
involvement with AAUW and the Live Your Dream Conference. I told them about the
Women's Leadership Alliance and the yearly International Women's Day Walk and
how women from Cambodia would be supplying the giveaways to this year's event.
One woman after another was retired from teaching,
occupational therapy, politics. One woman whose children have grown now
wondered what to do with herself. And as each woman spoke, I realized, I had
been dishonest. I had not talked about what I was currently doing, but what I
had been doing. Who I was.
This was my first outing as a writer and I'm still trying to
get my feet planted firmly beneath my new identity. Each day, I make an adjustment,
take a step in the direction I am headed, but my footing is unstable. Sometimes
I take a step back.
I grapple with the idea of selling more crafts, buying more
stock, answering emails about products, agreeing to get involved with one
economic development project after another. I don't know how to stop, how to
slow down, how to back away gracefully...and I wonder if I want to.
I was Women's Work for so long. But I had been a
writer/journalist for far longer, so why does it feel so foreign?
Last night, I took a step out and realized just how
vulnerable I am. Many of the women there had never met me, been to my store,
had any expectations and so why did I feel the need to BE that person? It shocked me and made me sad and today, in the cold
light of day, it also made me think.
Since I was in Second Grade, I wanted to be a writer. I went
to college to be a journalist. I graduated from CUNY Hunter with a
communications degree with a minor in political science. I wanted to write
human-interest stories, exposing injustices. I wanted to write
to right the world's wrongs.
After a few jobs at Random House, I quit to write the Great
American Novel, then returned to reality and NY to work for Scholastic. That's
when my words would finally appear in print and where I wrote for three
children's classroom magazines until my daughter was born. I continued to
freelance for Scholastic, Children's Television Workshop, and others. I wrote
instructional books, contributed to a game, and co-authored a children's book
with my husband called, "Hit the Trail!" I've freelanced for American
Girl magazine, had pieces in Redbook, contributed to McCalls, Newsweek
(International), Ms. magazine and worked for a time at a parenting magazine put
out by Nickelodeon. While in Africa, I wrote for various travel magazines and newspapers,
and wrote marketing materials for the Tourism Department promoting Southern
Africa. If not for a story assignment about the San Bushmen, I would not be
where I am today.
I am a writer. And
it's up to me to write.
My husband, who has always been so supportive, told me that
all of my work in retail has been a great help to the artisans. But, he pointed
out, if I wrote about it, their talents could reach hundreds of thousands,
maybe even millions of people, and that would impact the women's lives
substantially.
I was given a passion for writing and a hell of a story to
tell. The next step in this journey is to get it down and get it out and have
it read.
So, if I could reintroduce myself, I am a writer.
And I hope you’ll join me as I take a step away from “Women’s Work” the store and move into
telling it as my story.
And I hope you’ll join me as I take a step away from “Women’s Work” the store and move into
telling it as my story.
Hmmm dunno if my last comment worked - but let me just say, that Cecilia Dinio Durkin has a story to tell... about Cecilia, about Pete. About Macallan. About Markham. Hell even about Clarke the Elderly Rescue Dog! You've got stories about Women and about Women's Work. Something about the underdog and the overlord and... Yes just a kind life. I look forward to seeing your posts cos they are always provocative and make me think - thanks.
ReplyDeleteThank you Kieron! I'm hoping the stories have some sort of meaning for those who read them. I remember you had asked me what I thought of Alexandra Fuller who grew up in Zimbabwe. I hadn't read her until we moved back to the States, but I have to say, if only I could capture our experiences half as well as she does hers in "Let's Not Go to the Dogs Tonight," I'd be a very happy writer. Thanks again, Kieron. Please feel free to share your insights. They are most welcome! :)
Deletenone of us are here to copy someone else - we are here to find out and share the wisdom we gain through our experiences, failures, successes; you have a great many wonderful stories that are purely you, and yet when you tell them, someone else will say "Oh, that makes me wonder, if I tried such and such that I've wanted to do but been a little afraid, maybe I could do it. Or if I make a mistake, I could live through it and learn something." Your stories are great encouragement for others, Cecelia. And you DO need to share them through your writing!
ReplyDeleteThat's exactly what I hope will happen! So, thanks for reading and your encouraging words!
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