The last class of my Hubbard Hall Short Story class wrapped up Saturday, it was one of the best classes I have ever taught, so worthwhile I’d like to teach it again in the summer or the fall, depending on Hubbard Hall. In many ways, these classes are about fear and then, about imagination.

So many of the students come telling me their stories are stupid, awful, that they can’t write, that their stories are unimportant, that no one wants to hear them, that they can never sell them or make it in the world of writing. These are lies. I forbid my students to speak poorly of their work, the role of the teacher is to show them what they do well, not what they do poorly.

I believe the creative spark is present in every human being, some of us are blessed with encouragement or the opportunity to light this spark and free the constipation of our souls, some of us don’t get the chance. What a blessing to see each one of these students reach inside of themselves, pull out wonderful stories of meaning and life, encourage and support one another and begin to learn to love their work.

Each story is a gift to me, and the ones in this class are especially good. Encouragement is the fuel of creativity, it works to free the powerful spirits trapped inside of us.