Space: A reflection by Fall 2022 intern Ainhoa Palacios
"It took me nearly ten weeks of workshop to understand my biggest contribution was showing up and welcoming whatever the writers brought with them that day."
I came to CSU to do many things. I came to CSU to write. I came to teach. I came to be surrounded by other writers and published faculty, real authors who could guide me into maybe one day being one myself. As my first semester as a graduate student in the Creative Writing MFA at CSU ends, I can confirm all my reasons for coming still hold true.
And yet, there’s more. Reasons I couldn’t fathom and now seem essential, in some ways necessary to my being here:
I came to CSU to be humbled.
I came to face, acknowledge, and unpack deep held stereotypes.
I came to learn how to hold space.
Space. If I had to choose a word that described this fall semester of interning for the Community Literacy Center and leading Speakout! workshops with the men of the Fort Collins Rescue Mission, it would be space. Let me explain.
Before our first workshop, I had a plan. A neatly typed out word document detailing exactly what introduction questions I’d ask. It included every prompt we’d get through and how much time we would spend on each. To nobody’s surprise, including mine, we didn’t get past our first prompt and the tips I’d written for myself on "how to encourage the men to share their writing" were unnecessary because what I found was the men were eager to do so. But this was on this day.
Some Mondays the room we wrote in was packed. Ten chairs surrounding a small rectangular picnic table. Other Mondays, it was the volunteers, one writer, and me.
It was difficult to plan for circumstances I could not foresee. For bodies I did not know would show or not. For moods I could not guess. This inability to have it go my planned way often left me wondering what the point of it was, questioning the effectiveness and success of workshops. Was I wasting my time? The volunteer’s time? The writer’s time?
And yet, the writers still showed up. Week after week, someone, even if only one writer, still showed up.
And then came the day when one writer told us—''it’s real cool what you guys are doing."
It took me nearly ten weeks of workshop to understand where the power of Speakout! resides. To understand that it is in that space where facilitators release expectations and allow the workshop to be. What it should be, what it might be, and what it might not be. It took me nearly ten weeks of workshop to understand my biggest contribution was showing up and welcoming whatever the writers brought with them that day. Some days it was poems they’d worked on during the week. Other times it was silence. It took me nearly ten weeks of workshop to understand that only in this space of non-expectation can there be a true expression of whatever may be burrowed deep within us. Sure, the prompt was on oceans, and though the writer did not write about oceans, they wrote a perfect sentence about darkness and mountains and beauty unrelated but beauty, nonetheless.
That is the space I learned to hold. And of course, how could I not thank the CLC for allowing me that very space to come to it all on my own?
Water Sounds: A reflection from intern Grace Dotson
"This moment inspired me to carve out more spaces in my life to connect with strangers and familiar faces alike, to listen and inquire in ways that honor the unique, diverse adventures that are stirring around me every waking moment."
In the "Writing Water" workshop at AspenRidge Recovery this week I started with a simple warmup. I told writers that I would play the sounds of water (rushing rivers, waterfalls, trickling streams, etc) for 7 minutes. The challenge was that we must keep our pens moving constantly for the entirety of the seven minutes without ever stopping to think. As I pressed play on the water playlist and started the timer, I watched as pens moved frantically in gripping hands around the perimeter of the room. I began writing words that the sounds reminded me of; my brain was tired and feeling uninspired. Trickle. Perspire. Quench. My hand began to hurt only halfway in. This was the vaguest and most open-ended exercise that we had attempted so far at AspenRidge; I was curious about what everyone would come up with during the time.
When I asked if anyone wanted to share, one writer raised her hand and said, “I’ll go”. She began reading from her page. She described a scene that opened with the rain trickling on her window as she cozied in for a night of Harry Potter with her loved one. The writing sounded like a screenplay describing the most serene night she could imagine; it was genuine and heartfelt. A bit of hope she made tangible using pen and ink on her page.
Another writer wanted to share. His piece was poetic; he metaphorically described the properties of water, comparing the fluidity and resiliency of water to that of life itself. Using elegant phrasing, he pondered water's ability to both take the path of least resistance and forcefully break barriers.
After some hesitation, a writer on the other side of the room said that he would not share his piece because it was boring but that he wrote about water policy. He detailed many specific political activities that are taking place in the country regarding water and access. He mentioned that a new reservoir will be built in Fort Collins and that they are still deciding on its location. The rest of us wondered how he knew so much about these land and water policies. Conversation erupted; many of us acknowledged that he had taught us something new and that his piece was certainly not boring!
This moment must be one of my most treasured during my time at AspenRidge. Our responses may seem so simple to us when we come up with them individually in our own seven minutes of pen scribbling. Our minds work in all-too-familiar ways that we take for granted, and it is not until our thoughts are held up next to one another that we are able to realize the value of our individual contribution to a larger whole. No two people could possibly bring the same thing to the table in these sessions.
The simple background sounds of water-- so universal and familiar, yet so provoking-- allowed us each to branch in entirely different directions. At this moment in the workshop, I truly was in awe of the position that I was in. It dawned on me that my opportunity to connect with the minds of a group of people in a strictly creative setting once every week was so precious and rare. This moment inspired me to carve out more spaces in my life to connect with strangers and familiar faces alike, to listen and inquire in ways that honor the unique, diverse adventures that are stirring around me every waking moment.
Community: A reflection from intern Constance Davis
"We facilitate more than a creative writing workshop - our workshops contain continuous change within the spaces of diversity, inclusion, the arts, as well as personal and collective growth."
SpeakOut! is designed to engage diverse voices and artists, a community unified by elements of creativity, vulnerability, imagination, curiosity, challenge, and purpose. The creative writing space allows for softness, honesty and transparency for ourselves, the writers, the world, and everything in between. SpeakOut! unifies writers and artists in a brave space, creating magic in workshops every week to publish (or not) in a collective journal. Beauty lies in every page - an authentic, genuine perspective into the often unseen talents that lie within everyone, beyond the spaces we hold for ourselves in everyday life.
As a facilitator for two semesters, I appreciated the significance of this program and the workshops for the way they foster community engagement, highlighting diverse voices within a creative space, and establishing a fresh perspective for writers and facilitators alike. We facilitate more than a creative writing workshop - our workshops contain continuous change within the spaces of diversity, inclusion, the arts, as well as personal and collective growth.
Each person within the workshop stands out in their own form of representation. SpeakOut! shows us that the human experience is yes, different - oh, but so alike, too. We all have something to learn from one another. We all have a story to tell. We have the capacity to engage with others beyond ourselves, using the arts to dismantle fears and trauma. We become part of the world, connecting in a way that allows us to see the beauty beyond the tragedies of human existence. And for that, Thank You.
Sadie: a SpeakOut! writer profile by intern Tanya Sopkin
"I could no longer go a day without noticing how so many day-to-day activities are inaccessible for those who are hard of hearing or deaf."
This semester was my first interning at the CLC, and I have had the pleasure of leading workshops at Catholic Charities. Every week we bond over a variety of emotions, ranging from humor after writing Halloween stories with silly twists, or vulnerable pieces about when we felt empowered. One of the most impactful participants this semester is Sadie,* a deaf woman who came to our first few workshops.
I had never led workshops before, and especially had never held one with a deaf participant, and I quickly realized how much knowledge I lacked about deaf culture. With Alexa, who volunteers alongside me, we had many discussions about how to make the workshop more inclusive yet also not singling Sadie out with accommodations that are given only to her.
We often communicated through writing, and I would read Sadie's work aloud when she wanted to share and everyone would pass their work to her after they shared. I tried my best to write down what was going on during the group’s conversations, and even tried to learn sign language in between workshops. However, I always felt like something was missing and after a few weeks, she stopped coming. Her friend told us that she felt left out because of all the talking in the workshops. Despite the focus on writing, I realized how much verbal communication happens during the process.
Alexa and I have had to battle with low morale all semester as we have been having low attendance, but losing this participant was one of the hardest challenges for me. It made me realize how non-inclusive our society is, as so many differently-abled perspectives are left unrecognized and not discussed in our culture. I could no longer go a day without noticing how so many day-to-day activities are inaccessible for those who are hard of hearing or deaf. I am still trying my best to learn ASL because this experience made me see my own gap in knowledge about deaf culture. The few sentences when I was able to communicate with Sadie through sign felt like an entirely new door was opened, and I wish that our society was more aware of how to always keep that door open.
*Name changed for privacy
Alexus the G: a SpeakOut! profile by intern Mia Manfredi
"Almost every single piece that has been written and shared aloud has been vulnerable, powerful, and emotional."
I had the privilege of co-facilitating weekly workshops with women at the Larimer County Community Corrections Center. It seems impossible to even attempt to begin putting my thoughts about this experience into words. But, I think that is how I know that taking on this role is something that I cherish, and love. For me, it has always been the hardest to write about the things that I hold most dear.
Writing had always served as a means of coping with the feelings I needed to confront -- though, for the past year or so, I had lost sight of that relationship completely. It became really hard for me to tug on any tough emotions that were “hibernating” deep within me, as Jimmy Santiago Baca would say. I think that a part of me was sure that writing would allow me to cope, and come to terms with some of these emotions, though another part of me couldn’t find the willingness to actually put a pen to paper, and begin to let it all out. I was truly experiencing an unfamiliar type of “writer’s block."
This completely changed from the second I stepped into my first SpeakOut! workshop.
Prior to arriving, I had constructed an agenda that was very simple, and surface-level, in hopes of just getting to know the participants without applying any sort of pressure to write about something they may not want to write about. After we introduced ourselves to one another, I asked the writers how they felt about a five minute free-write for a warm up. All of the women agreed, and we began to write. I think that I wrote about what I had eaten for dinner, or maybe about some feelings over a mid-term I had coming up. Truly, I was just brain dumping all of the thoughts that were at the foreground of my mind. I remember I had sorted all of these ideas out within the first 3 minutes or so of the time, at one point I just began to scribble. When the timer went off, I asked if any of the participants wanted to share what they had written. To my surprise, each of the women raised their hands.
The woman sitting directly to my left, whose pen name is Alexus the G, seemed the least eager to share. She expressed a sort of fore-warning to us that she had really just “brain-dumped” a lot of emotions she was feeling, and she explained that she wasn’t sure if it made much sense. I expressed to her that there was no pressure to share, and the other women gave her encouragement, and told her that they wrote similar pieces, and would share directly after her. After hearing this support, Alexus the G held a sheet of lined-paper up to eye level and began to read.
I remember the first line of her work starting with the word “angry.” Or perhaps a sentence along the lines of “I am angry.” Every line that followed included this word. I remember watching her continue reading, and seeing tears begin to form at the rim of her eyes. As she persisted, she read through her detailed description of the relationship she has with anger. She wrote about what it felt like to feel angry, what and who she was angry at, why she was angry, and at the end, she validated this anger. Throughout her writing of this piece, it seemed as if Alexus the G had come to terms with this emotion, and through her sharing of this piece, she was going through that process once more.
After she finished reading, the other group members wiped away their wet eyes, and they passed along their feelings of empathy. After the participants gave her feedback, I thanked her for sharing her writing, and had told her that a part of me had resonated with what she had written about. I wanted to say more, but it was really hard for me to find the words. It is still hard for me to find the words to express the way in which her piece made me feel.
Towards the end of the workshop, Alexus the G had told me that she didn’t come prepared to write about her feelings, let alone share her feelings aloud with the group. But she also expressed that after writing it out and reading it, she felt a form of relief. She reached for the sheet of prompts that was hidden in the back of her SpeakOut! folder, and reassured me she would continue writing about these feelings, in hope to continue to make sense of them outside of the workshop.
Once I arrived home that night, I pulled out my journal, and set a five minute timer. Instead of writing about my daily tasks and/or what I might be craving for a midnight dessert, I began to pour out emotions that I was not yet aware of. Emotions that I was not prepared to write about, began to emerge between each line, and for the first time in months, I was not ready to put the pen down once that timer went off. I wanted to keep making sense of these feelings, the same way Alexus the G wanted to keep making sense of hers. For the first time in months, I wanted to keep writing about what I was feeling. A part of me even wanted to share it with someone.
Being a part of SpeakOut! has completely transformed my relationship with writing, in an abundance of ways. Almost every single piece that has been written and shared aloud has been vulnerable, powerful, and emotional. Seeing these women show their bravery to write and share their work with a group has truly inspired me. I truly feel that every single writer has the ability to learn something about themselves through their work, the same way that Alexus the G and I now have, and will continue to do.
Do you have our latest SpeakOut! journal on your bookshelves yet?
Ask us for a free copy!
Writers from the Fort Collins community include their poetry, prose and art:
Fort Collins Mission, Catholic Charities, Turning Point for Girls, Harvest Farms
We have another box of copies to move out into the world -- help us distribute? Your favorite coffee shop? Your favorite bench (protected from the rain) -- Help us do 'random acts of literacy!' Stop by and get some books!
Collage of Our World
clc offers WATER CURRICULUM through website
Thanks to CSU's Colorado Water Center Water Education and Engagement Projects Grant, and the 2021-2022 intern team, the CLC website now features shareable water curriculum lesson plans -- with videos! Check some out!
Water and Gratitude -- Water and Nourishment -- Modeling Water Systems -- Water and Memory -- Writing Floods -- Human/Water Connection -- Energy and Water -- Water and Transformation -- Water and the Body
For more on the importance of water to all Coloradoans, see Governor Polis' initiative at water22.org
Many thanks to our community partners at:
Larimer County Community Corrections and Work Release
Aspen Ridge Recovery
Alternatives Homes for Youth
Harvest Farms
FOCO Mission
Catholic Charities
AND
The Dean's Office at the CSU College of Liberal Arts
The CSU English Department
the Pharos Fund of the Bohemian Foundation
The rotary club of fort collins
Fountainhead Press/Top Hat
Poudre River public Library district
Do you want to volunteer to lead workshops?
Let us know at clc@colostate.edu and we're happy to talk to you! Or find one of our interns in the CLC office in Eddy 346A -- they'll be happy to tell you all about the challenges, the highs, and the lows (not too many of them!)
We will train new volunteers right after classes start up again in January -- be sure to contact us as soon as possible!
And take several copies of our journals to read, and then get them out into your world!
Please consider supporting our work!
The CLC creates alternative literacy opportunities to educate and empower underserved populations, and sponsors university-community literacy collaborations. Through our workshops, we confront stereotypes of at-risk youth, men and women who are incarcerated, and other young writers dealing with confinement. We circulate the stories and creative work of community writers through print and multi-media publications. We believe that such dynamic literacy activities are key to individual success, cultural awareness, and a more socially just world.
If you would like to become a volunteer in one of our programs, please let us know at clc@colostate.edu. We are always looking to add thoughtful volunteers to our team. We will begin a new semester toward the end of January -- let us know before then if you would like to join. We train!