The Vital Importance of We
How The Writing Project Helped Me Be Brave
“You haven’t shared in a few days. You should share,” Susan whispered to me.
I fidgeted. It was the fifth day of the Greater Madison Writing Project Summer Institute, and every day I felt more in awe of my cohort’s writing and more doubtful of my own. I was definitely intimidated to share. And definitely not sharing in Author’s Chair that day.
“Even just a sentence,” she insisted, placing her hand on my shoulder, assuring me, nudging me.
Others were already reading their writing so I listened, wavering between doubt and bravery, but on a break between readers, I found a sentence. One good sentence. I smiled at Susan and took a deep breath. And I shared it.
As I reflect on that day five years ago, I see that this is how the Greater Madison Writing Project has most shaped me. Teaching can be an isolating career at times, but in those moments of doubt, of uncertainty, of questioning what to do next, the Writing Project has time and again stood with me and given me the confidence to step toward bravery.
In my first summer with the GMWP, my time and research resulted in changing my entire classroom structure by finally uniting my philosophy with my practice: I stopped putting letter grades on writing to offer stronger feedback to students for growth. But that didn’t happen alone. Even though I knew the right direction to proceed, I was hesitant, clutching my research and gut instinct, and my colleagues in the GMWP joined me in that place, boosting my confidence, asking questions, and encouraging me until I stepped toward the answer I knew was best for students. And that has happened many times over the past five years, validating that I am stronger as a We.
When schools transitioned to online instruction this spring, the GMWP stepped up yet again with me, with We. The first GMWP meeting we had online, I looked at the pixelated faces of people I had known these past five years. I looked at colleagues I had shared a good beer with, run races with, geeked out over a Harry Potter podcast with, laughed until my belly hurt with. But even more I saw colleagues I had been in this work with: colleagues I facilitated teacher institutes and meetings with, who I had workshopped professional writing with, who I had created the GMWP blog with, who I taught youth writing camps with, who I presented at conferences with — colleagues who inspired me both personally and professionally, colleagues, friends, who make I stronger as We. I knew as I looked at those faces through fearful tears, that We would be ok.
So GMWP, I thank you.
I thank you for putting educators in my world who challenge me.
I thank you for never giving me the answers but rather giving me the questions.
I thank you for making me a more thoughtful educator, a more thoughtful human.
I thank you for guiding us all toward a more humane educational system.
I thank you for reminding me so many times of the vital importance of We.
Because We want to be in the work together.
We listen to each other — to learn, not outdo.
We see each other in a world that can seem blind.
We challenge each other, refining and clarifying our thinking.
We celebrate each other authentically, recognizing successes and failures and the humanity in both.
We strive to be a voice for change.
And It is this We that I seek this fall; our schools have no definite answers, the world has too many answers, and every direction I look feels… wrong. I have read research and listened to arguments and know that everyone is trying to do what is right, but it doesn’t feel like there is a right anymore. The only right I see is to focus on the humans at the core, the staff and the students, and ensuring that the human is put first in every decision.
As I look at the confusion and feel my pulse quicken, I turn and see my GMWP colleagues there to help me, help We, step bravely toward whatever is next.
