Jackson Free Press

On a balmy night last month, I was walking along Frenchmen Street in New Orleans with heavy thoughts. Life suddenly seemed like a game show with so many different paths and choices that come with inevitable disappointments and victories. I pondered the best investment of my time and the sacrifices I would need to make in order to meet my goals. Would it all be worth it in the end?

All of a sudden, I stumbled in front of a young man wearing a newsboy cap and looking like he had just stepped out of the 1940s. He had set up a table and was writing on an antique typewriter. A sign attached to his table described his services: For $5, he would write a poem based on any topic you offered. I imagined that he probably received a fair share of non-serious requests from drunken tourists, but I decided to give it a try. I explained to him my conundrum about life, and 20 minutes later he presented me with the following poem:

All points and stresses brought to bear by your consideration, and though your compass spins uncertain never fear that your direction is the best.

And sometimes you must hold your nose and enter rooms of musty irrelevance, and make the best of the furniture you find, for you'll never know where you'll be tomorrow, so try to be as comfortable as you can while you're here.

The poem was like a sermon, and I placed it on my car's dashboard where I read it over and over again in the next few weeks as my life encountered unexpected setbacks. I've always found comfort in words--whether it's reading a good book or writing in my journal. For me writing is an outlet and even a form of atonement. But it's not just the act of putting words on paper--it's the magical act of telling a story. Good stories can transform people and even change society. Good stories cause us to stop and ask ourselves questions. Good stories break down walls and cause us to see the world in a different light.

I wanted to be a writer since I was a child; I began filling up journals from the time I learned how to read and write at age 6. As a teenager growing up in the suburbs of Washington, D.C., I struggled to fit in at a high school where the majority of students--who were being groomed for high-power jobs--drove nicer cars than the teachers. Working on the school newspaper, however, gave me a reason to talk to students I might have been too intimidated to talk to otherwise. Unlike my other classes, journalism sent me outside the classroom and seldom required a textbook for learning.

Despite my passion, I struggled with grammar, and my writing skills needed work. At the end of my junior year, I received a letter from my teacher telling me that she had to cut me from the newspaper staff. With tears in my eyes, I came to her office after school, asking her why. "You must improve your writing," she told me as she raised an eyebrow and looked over her eyeglasses. "Maybe there are other things you can do besides journalism."

I was crushed. I felt like I had nothing else to keep me coming to school. I remember walking up and down the hallways, distraught and in shock. Fortunately, my family ended up moving that summer to another school district, and I was able to write for that school's newspaper. But the rejection I felt when I received that letter has long stayed with me. In fact, it made me want to be a journalist even more, and when I think of where I am now, I am truly humbled. I'd like to go back to that teacher and thank her for kicking me off the staff because it pushed me to work harder.

When I started at the JFP two years ago, my writing took the form of inverted-pyramid style journalism and lacked my voice. Working with editors such as Donna Ladd and Ronni Mott have caused me to grow and push myself. I've learned how to invest myself into a story, go back for more and get over writer's block when I'm up against a deadline.

Last week, I was fortunate enough to hear the works of so many talented local writers. I hosted the quarterly Writer's Spotlight at Lemuria where local writers such as Bob Hudson, Jeremiah Maeda, Herbert Brown and Anita Modak-Truran read their writings. After the event, someone who just moved to the area told me that she didn't realize Jackson had so much talent.

Former Jacksonian Janine Jankovitz started the Writer's Spotlight nearly two years ago, and it's given writers as well as non-writers a place to connect. Unless you were there, it's hard to describe how powerful it is to see local writers share their stories and bare their souls as they take the stage. I've never felt so proud of my city.

In the midst of uncertainty, I find that I am drawn to other people's stories and the idea of turning disappointment into an opportunity. I used to think that getting older meant that I would become jaded, but I'm starting to think that becoming jaded is a choice. Each disappointment also brings a new direction to our lives--new possibilities that we hadn't thought of before.

For me, writing provides an outlet for expression, but for others it might be music, photography or art. Art provides a way to deal with the crap that life sometimes throws at us, or as in the words of Pablo Picasso: "Art washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life."

Previous Comments

ID

164718

Comment

You overcame and achieved nonetheless. I'm often shocked at the number of times people fail before they succeed. Few people like to talk about failure although failure often builds stamina, tenacity, character and resolve. it's always the story before the successes.

Author

Walt

Date

2011-08-24T17:31:33-06:00