I’m working with the senior students at Bishop Maginn High School to publish a book called “Interrupted Lives,” the story of how their lives were brutally and almost completely upended by the coronavirus.
We read a lot about the schools that are closed in America, but we rarely hear the voices of the students themselves. It is an awful time for many of them.
My project – most of the students were in my Writing Workshop, which ended with the school’s closing in March – will begin next week.
The disruption, fear, and disconnection for these students were profound. Many were refugees from other countries, they lost everything at least once before and grew up in dangerous refugee camps.
Then, in March, they found themselves isolated in their homes and apartment, they lost their school, their teachers, their friends, their prom, their graduation, and are deeply worried about their ability to get to college in the Fall. Each one of them was accepted.
Their lives are now in limbo, money and food are running short for many of them.
Many of their parents were laid off, they had hours and hours to fill, and Bishop Maginn High School, the safety net and focal point of their lives, was no longer available to them offline.
So we are going to write this project together, it began this morning, and I will share it with you. I will be continuing my regular writing about the farm, the dogs, the animals, the Mansion, etc. I’m very grateful to Sue Silverstein for coming up with this idea and inviting me to help put this project together.
These kids need to talk, they need to be heard.
Below is my first message to the writers on Google Classroom, the software we are using to teach and edit and communicate. Thanks, Sue, you’re a great teacher, and a great friend.
The first message is from me to the students who want in:
“Hey There, this is Jon Katz. I’m excited to be teaching a class I call “Interrupted Lives,” a personal account of how your lives were upended by the coronavirus, an earthquake for each of you. I can only imagine. The hope is to collect your very personal stories and self-publish them as a book on Amazon and in bookstores and perhaps by the school.
Hopefully, this will be both a paper and digital publication. I will be asking for weekly writing – the pieces don’t need to be long, but I’ll be ruthless about weeding out people who can’t or won’t contribute on a weekly basis.
So think about that before you agree to jump in.
I’ll read your pieces – think of each piece as a chapter – and edit them and offer feedback. This is a serious and challenging project, so I will be direct, even ruthless about my responses. That’s what real editors do.
It won’t be as cozy and informal as the first writing workshop. This needs to be real, not slopped together.
I appreciate Sue Silverstein”s invitation to do this project, I take it seriously and will work hard at it. I will expect the people in the class to do the same. If you skip it for a couple of weeks, you’re out. I know your lives are complex, so is mine.
And one thing we all know – you’ve got some time.
I don’t want to hear about your troubles, I want to read about them.
Writing should be no more than two or three double-spaced pages at a time, I need for you to be disciplined so I can give your writing the attention it deserves.
I don’t confuse grammar with good writing, I want your pieces to be in your natural and authentic voices, the way you would talk to your best friend.
Ask yourselves two questions before you write something – “how am I feeling today, right now,” and “is it the truth.” That’s always a good way to start.
It looks like a great class so I’ll wait to see the final sign-up and then we’ll get going. I’ve got seven students already, that’s a good number for me.
You can talk to me here or on my regular gmail, [email protected]. I think this is a wonderful idea, a chance for you to talk honestly about what you are going through now. If we work at it, there is a powerful and timely book at the end of the rainbow.
The media talks about kids, but we never hear their voices. This is your chance, thanks, Jon
P.S. I know many of you love Zinnia and helped me to train her. She will be lying right by my side. Think of her as our spirit dog.”
__ Photo: Sue Silverstein.