September, 2009

Dear Dr. Chmiel,

I just finished The Book of Mev! I journaled a bit as/after I read, and I just feel like sharing my writing with you. I’ll see you Sunday evening.

Take care,

Linsey

9/11/2009

Page 299: Book of Mev. Here comes the sobbing I knew was inevitable. Sitting on the bed, propped up against four pillows in Walsh 352 clutching the hard, hardcover book with my ugly hands and losing it completely. My shoulders rattle a bit, more like a shiver than anything, and I adore the sunshine streaming into the window on my plain white bedspread, my toes, my jeans.

My God! Mev was real. Now she is in heaven and I’m reading this book about her and loving her and I am in heaven too, because of this. Thank you, Mev! Writing to a dead person. Maybe a little queer. Never mind that. This is Truth.

Tears pile up along my lower lashes. I wait for them to spill, but instead they dribble messily around the creases where one day I’ll wake up and find crows feet in the mirror. I’m reminded that I’m getting old and one of my tear ducts is deformed and I have a painful lump in my breast but six months, three breast exams and an ultrasound after finding it in Spring ‘09, I know it’s benign.

There is no room for mascara in my life anymore. I’m always, ALWAYS brought to tears. Tuesday/Thursday/Markchmielday especially, I’ve learned not to risk it because I’m certain to cry at least a bit in his 9:30 seminar class and watery charcoal smudges on the bags above my cheeks would be a dead giveaway. Pause from writing.

The book is finished! My tears are dry and a smile is eating my brain. Mev took great pictures. The book closes with one of Dr. Chmiel in Brazil writing. Or is he sketching? He is happy. Same face I met with the first day of the semester in Beracha Hall on Laclede. Monsoon Wedding soundtrack playing and I wanted to dance and sing ‘Aaja Nachle’ at the top of my lungs.

Now Mark is my teacher. This beautiful book-its dust jacket already tattered on the front right corner-mine. Mev-like exuberance, laughter and over the stories just imbibed, mine.

I am rich, obviously, to claim all this. And now I’m brimming with desire: to sit quietly, reread all my favorites mentioned throughout seamlessly as a bordered bolt of turquoise silk for a sari-Being Peace, Song of Songs, Dorothy Day-or better yet, to run outside barefoot, find little Dikaksha, Diwas, or ah! maybe even an unsuspecting classmate, and scoop them in my arms panting, because all that is mine is TOO good not to share. I need to watch the sun come up over the Arch again, from my favorite spot-the roof of the East Hickory Garage-and worship God and video the horizon as the change from night to day bursts forth.

I have no more words, just excitement, a mental photo montage and a homeless bandaid that served as a book mark for four days. Wait! It’s not homeless anymore! I’ve just stuck it to my favorite page in the book. Go and find it, dear reader. I dare you!

CTSA Fall Course

Mark Chmiel

Brief Course Description

In this course, writing is introduced as a practice to help us “wake up” to the wonders, suffering, and joys of everyday life. Accordingly, we will use various exercises to get in touch with our own powers of creativity, clarity, and compassion. We will learn how to write without stopping and without judgment, our basic method being the timed writing practice in notebooks as taught by Natalie Goldberg. Once we get experience with this method, we can use writing practice to generate material for any writing we want or need to do, from old-fashioned letters to short stories to populist poems to academic papers to Twitter posts. Throughout the ten weeks, we will learn to trust our own voice and to be receptive to the voices of each other.

Here’s a way of looking at writing practice from Natalie Goldberg:

Recording the details of our lives is a stance against bombs with their mass ability to kill, against too much speed and efficiency. A writer must say yes to life, to all of life: the water glasses, the Kemp’s half-and-half, the ketchup on the counter. It’s not a writer’s task to say, “It is dumb to live in a small town or to eat in a café when you can eat macrobiotic at home.” Our task is to say a holy yes to the real things of our life as they exist—the real truth of who we are: several pounds overweight, the gray, cold street outside, the Christmas tinsel in the showcase, the Jewish writer in the orange booth across from her blond friend who has black children. We must become writers who accept things as they are, come to love to details, and step forward with a yes on our lips so there can be no more noes in the world, noes that invalidate life and stop these details from continuing.

Method

At each session we will do variously timed writing practices, share in pairs or trios, listen attentively to each other, share reflections on the book we’ve chosen to read, and (re)learning the discipline to trust our own minds.

Essentials

1 200-page wide-ruled composition notebook

1 or 2 pens

1 copy of Natalie Goldberg, Writing down the Bones, 2005 edition

1 book of your own choosing, one you are eager to read and share the fruits of your reading with the class

Tuition

$100.00

Time and Place

Wednesdays, 7:30-9:00 p.m.

September 23, 30

October 7, 14, 21, 28

November 4, 11,18

December 2

Center for Theology and Social Analysis

1077 South Newstead

Forest Park Southeast

(Also, perhaps, various local cafes)

Instructor/Animator

I have taught at Webster University and Saint Louis University, using the methods of Natalie Goldberg in classes since 2001. I used some of Goldberg’s techniques in composing The Book of Mev (2005). I can be contacted at MarkJChmiel@gmail.com

Follow-Up

I’ll be offering a ten-week spring course, based on Mary Pipher’s book, Writing to Change the World. Now skilled in writing practice, we can go on to send specific works out into the world—to agitate, wake up, to connect the dots, to empower, and to share visions of a more just and harmonious world.

Final Advice (from Jack Keroauc)

Submissive to everything, open, listening

Be in love with yr life

Write in recollection and amazement for yourself

Believe in the holy contour of life

I am happy to share the following excerpt from a paper by one of my students, Erin Almand, who took Social Justice in spring 2009. Herein, Erin refers to her “insertion” work at Kingdom House in Saint Louis and the several books she read in our class….

What Kingdom House has shown me is another example of how all of mankind is just alike. We might have different skin color, family traditions, religions, or cultures, but we are one. Chan Khong wrote about this idea. She traveled all over the world to bring a message of love and “oneness” to the globe. Her message of love is a lesson to all of us, as are the children who attend Kingdom House.  I think the insertion requirement and the course material go hand in hand.

We are able to put our beliefs and what we have read about into practice, real life experience. It is one thing to read books and discuss topics in a classroom, and it is quite another to live out those ideas on a daily basis. The insertion falls hand-in-hand with the message of each book we have read—to an extent.

For Goldberg, you must do what you love. If you love serving people, great. Do it. if you love the idea of serving people (just like loving the idea of writing), that’s great. Go do it. if you hate the idea of serving people (like hating the idea of writing), try it. You might surprise yourself. Chan Khong is all about love. What better way to show your love for people than to serve them, to fight out against social injustice?

In Baghdad Burning, Riverbend’s main message is that we are all the same. We are all alike. As Mev would have written, “The struggle is one.” We, the human race, are One. Each person deserves certain rights, and if we have those rights, we must seek justice for those who have had their right stripped away.

Mev exemplified all of these ideas throughout her life. She used her love and passion to bring about awareness and call out social injustices. Mev is all about love and grace, and doing service is a way to show love and grace to others. Simply because of our skin color and nationality, we are privileged. Mev wanted to make it so that everyone was equal—men and women, blacks and whites, rich and poor.

In Unbowed, Wangari worked for women’s rights. She saw social injustices and spoke out about it—even though it cost her her reputation as a “good African woman” and eventually, her husband. All of the books we read in class dealt with social injustices in some way. I believe that any work on issues like the ones we read about in class should be considered “working for change.”  I am confident that all of these women would advocate the social issue I have decided to bear: the education of our children. This class has affected me so much, and my service at Kingdom House did, too.

I plan on returning to Kingdom House in the Fall—even though as an upperclassman Micah, I am not required to do any service. The books we read have also inspired me. Goldberg has had a particular influence on me. I re-started up my blog and have fallen in love with words again. I have always had a secret desire to be a poet. Who knows, maybe someday down the line I’ll owe my poetry success to this class! I know that I will continue giving back to the community around me. I love people so much, and have such a compassion and spirit to serve.

After college, I am toying with the idea of going to Graduate school, probably for my doctorate  or masters for Theatre for Young Audiences. I know that I want to work with children and if I could incorporate that with my passion for theatre, life would be grand. (Of course, life will probably be grand no matter what I end up doing). I do think that I will end up being a teacher, director, or actor for children’s theatre. We shall see.

What I am certain about is my love for the class and all the wisdom I have gathered from it. I have thoroughly enjoyed this class and wish it didn’t have to end.  I will never forget the lessons I learned, the stories and readings people shared, and the books we read about ordinary people doing extraordinary things. In my days at Kingdom House, I would often remind myself: “Just like me, the children at Kingdom House want to be happy. They don’t want to suffer.” Now I will say, “Just like me ___(insert name)____ wants to be happy. They don’t want to suffer.”