I am a lucky teacher, I have a most remarkable class. I’ve always felt one of the problems with the system of teaching writing is that it emphasizes what people do wrong, not what they do write, Also, many writing classes seem to advance the idea that writing is a sacred gift, given to the few, and that most people cannot do it well, or without agonizing and torturous assistance.

I have never held that view of writing. It is not about grammar or spelling, it is about feeling and clarity and authenticity. So that’s what I try and teach. We all have a voice, writing is much about finding it and believing in it. My remarkable class is full of people who believe in that and are doing it.

Today, I woke up still sick from what seems to have been a bout of food poisoning. I felt weak but very focused, and I am so glad I didn’t call the class off. We met in the upstairs room of the Round House Retreat Building at Pompanuck Farms, Lisa Carrino brought us some fresh scones, I brought some coffee from the Round House Cafe.

Red came with me, I didn’t bring Fate after her knocking down an elderly yoga practitioner and taking down a jogger (and famous painter) she was trying to herd. More work needs to be done. Red loves writing classes, he greets everyone and goes to sleep.

Three lovely stories today. One, from Sandy, about redemption, a story a friend she met in Africa who was a prostitute, then a beloved community leader, then a victim of AIDS. It was long ago and far away, and Sandy thinks of her still, and wrote a beautiful homage to her, Sandy has found her voice.

And a lyrical tone poem from Nan, a gorgeous story about a young girl in Atlantic City whose beloved father is called off to war, and their (possibly) last days together. A story of time and place and love.

And a short piece by Karen about Bob, the grumpy old man she bought her house from, a gruff and free and independent spirit she captured and wants to write more about.

The class supports and encourages one another, is unfailingly helpful and generous, we all feed on one another, this, I think, is what  teaching ought to be, what teaching writing ought to be. I can’t wait for next week, I hope they can’t either. A third of the class was away today, family business and work. We have more time to focus on one another.  We are all busy, we are getting there. This is our third week at Pompanuck, it has opened up all of us in surprising ways.