as Writer

On this page, I've included excerpts of different writings I completed as part of the Institute. These writings -- some more complete than others -- document attempts to think through my ideas related to (writing) instruction throughout the Institute.

My grandmother read to me on nights I stayed with my grandparents, and I developed a love reading early on. I loved stories, so this made me want to write them. I started my high school newspaper, then went to college for Creative Writing and Business Administration (my uncle, essentially, told me I needed to have a practical major, so I’d find a job). The students in my Intro to Creative Writing class were very critical/mean (I became friends with the teach who said it was her meanest class to -date). I then switched my major to English Literature. During this time, I interned at different business places – like a marketing company, City Hall in communications – and I also began to write for the university paper and got an internship at a newspaper. I wasn’t formally trained at the time, and I made a lot of mistakes, but I learn a lot as well.

After college, I moved to Chicago where I hosted poetry nights and, surprisingly, got into comedy (writing). I also worked at the Museum of Science – where I was, essentially, forced to get over my fear of public speaking because I gave presentations to field trip kids. I also worked at Time Out Chicago, the publication, then, went all-digital (this was a couple years after the first major wave of media layoffs). I took this as a sign to enroll in graduate school. I’d wanted to get an MFA in creative writing. I then moved from the Northern tundra to the Big Easy. I lived/studied in New Orleans for three years where I took my first newspaper course – this course taught me a lot about structure, journalism ethics, etc. and led to my professional career in media and, ultimately, my book.

I’d been on the professional writing path at this point, but my MFA program had assistantships for first-year writing teachers. I resisted the classroom because I wanted to focus on my own writing and thought the FYW class, a required course, would be full of resistant/petulant students (this is a view, I’ve later learned, that has shaped the discourse around this course and its position in the university curriculum). A mentor I trusted…

In 2019, I went to TCW. Some of the instructors I most admire in the department told me about this Institute. One said, it been the place she’d learned how to teach and gave her confidence. I knew I wanted to do the institute; I just didn’t know when (I had meant to apply last year but pandemic delayed me because I couldn’t get it together).

Early in the Institute, we were asked to draft a Professional Fingerprint: our guiding teaching passion... it "may be an obsession that makes your work as a teacher, the sort of thing that colleagues, parents, and/or students may describe how you teach."

Over the weekend, we were tasked to complete a Writing Marathon. During the marathon, we chose three different places to write for at least 15-20 minutes.

Traditionally, we’d complete this marathon with other members of the Institute, but since we were virtual – due to COVID precautions – we were to complete the marathon on our own either virtually or around town. We were to write at these stops, take a picture, then share lines from our writes with other Institute participants.

On Saturday, June 19^th, 2021, my friend Domenick and I completed a writing marathon together in the downtown St. Petersburg area.

1. Woodbridge Park.

The first Gay Pride I attended was in NYC. I wore cowboy boots nearly the whole weekend and almost kissed a man who looked like Jesus – well, he looked like Jim Caviezel who play Jesus in Passion of the Christ, which I’d watched as an upperclassman at my Southern Baptist high school. I almost kissed the Jesus-actor-lookalike, but I’d eaten garlic knots earlier in the day and felt self-conscious about my breath.

2. Driftwood Café.

The man in cowboy boots poses crosses his arms, raises

his head. I don’t love this cowboy. I’ve loved exactly two

of them in my life & I refuse to get roped by another.

Note: We had to take a break to go to a Gay Pride event with some friends. We had hoped to finish the marathon before our friends were to pick us up, but we lost track of time in our writing stops!

3. Backyard.

He said he did drag back in the day in Ocala. Those Central Florida drag queens used to get assaulted. Men would either try to beat us up or rape us. KKK members would also show up in front of the club. Once, he got pulled over once in drag. The queens had to wear men’s clothing – underwear and socks – or they’d get taken to jail for cross-dressing. He probably should’ve gotten a DUI, but for some reason the police let him go.

Bonus line from Domenick: “I don’t know why people think the sound of crickets is relaxing. They’re just gross bugs trying to find mates.”