There is a power in recognizing in what you cannot do.
When I decided that the best thing to do to prove my sanity was to embrace all that writing and words would offer, I had to have help. I had to. There was no other way around it.
Not that I was so rusty, I was so humble. I needed to know that I could.
It started with an English class taught by Dr. Drucilla Wall at the University of Missouri-St. Louis. She told me that I had talent, that I needed to have ‘confidence in my voice’, and get over the fear of rejection. From that, my writing community was born.
From there, I met other misfits, and artists that dug my work in that class in Lucas Hall. It was a place of refuge, peace and creation. Her confidence, her faith in me, gave me space to create and to realize that I can write, that I should write, and it makes no sense for me to write.
Being a writer, admitting that I was a writer, gave a tribe. Writing made me part of a tribe. This guild of daydreaming mischief makers and seekers that see the world behind the world. These people that are able pull everything from nothing, or memory, or thought and share the naked ramblings of their imaginations that people pay for.
The basis of any community is self-identification. Who are you? What do you see yourself as? And from that, you have your direction of your people–your community.
One of the foundational truths of community is that its needed. No matter where you travel in this life, you will always be needed by someone or something or somewhere. It is impossible to exist alone.
From that community, came this ambition to push the talent, the gift and the skill that these words offered. With it came this fear that I couldn’t do it, that I wasn’t enough. It was that strength found in that community that began in that classroom
Even if that community begins in a classroom…most often do.