What kind of work habits do you have as a writer? What new ideas from this text resonated with you? What is at the heart of that resonance?
Since my childhood I have been a romantic of sorts. I found that language was a powerful tool with the capacity to move people into action. This gift of language usage was well developed by my grandfather who was a newspaper reporter and subsequently by my mother who was a school teacher and an unrecognized poet. My mother used to say: “si le tapan la boca, usara dibujos”, which roughly translates into “if they shut his mouth, he will use speech bubbles”. In other words, since a very early age I delighted in using language - sometimes to my mother’s dismay. I relished in the delicacies of the Spanish I spoke in my early childhood. Words could be playful yet serious, they could be lengthy and short, they could easily roll of the tongue or precariously fall out of the mouth. Ferrocarril, desvanecimiento, independientemente - these were playthings for my young mind.
And then came schooling. For me, there was a major shift in learning how to use written language as opposed to the spoken language that was my daily bread. This learning curve was made even steeper by the fact that I had to learn a new language in order to communicate academic ideas. The lingua Franca is English, so Spanish lost its romance. There were times when in my frustration, I cursed my mother tongue. It turned into something ugly, loud (like Puerto Rican salsa on Saturday nights), disconnected (like Christmas without presents), and cheap (like the shoes my mother could afford to buy for us). My head and heart hurt as I learned English with all of its harsh sounds and non-intuitive pronunciations.It was only during my college years that I learned about the beauty that could be coaxed out of the English language. Yes, I found Whitman, Tagore (in English), Maya Angelou, and T. S. Eliot. Oh, English was not just academic and heady - it was also fluid and passionate. Once I discovered this fact, my writing attempted to capture both the essence and the richness of my thoughts - not always, succeeding. This is why as a writer I habitually attempt to write when I am inspired, rather than when it needs to get done. This habit has lead to some great pieces (mostly short pieces or poems) and some really disconnected longer pieces (many of my academic papers).
Knowing that I am determined to complete a dissertation (which is mostly academic in nature), I know that I will need to create an environment where I am most likely to find success and still have room for exploring my emotions. This environment will need to consider: a. Establishing an optimal amount of time intended for writing, b. Breaking down time into actual work sessions, c. identifying the best writing times (I think it will be afternoons for me), d. Crossing off times that I cannot use for writing, and e. Designing a regular weekly schedule. In this way, the ideas that need to come across (intellectually) can still be fed and infused by the more emotional and ethereal musings of my mind. By creating this habitual pattern, I can approach the writing without fear of losing my inspiration since I will always have the next session to solidify my expression of thoughts in written form.
Language is amazing - perhaps the most holistic of human tools, next to the universal language of music. Written language can inspire and move, dance and sing, convey and describe - all of which I hope to do with my dissertation.
Try ONE of Zerubavel’s suggestions. Write a reflection on the experience. How did it feel? What did you notice?
For this particular piece, I decided to use Zerubavel’s suggestion of scheduling a session with an additional 20 minute buffer where I could “get into the creative mode” while maintaining an effective and sustained productive session. This 20 minutes at the beginning of the session allowed me to check my emails so that I could “clear my mind” before the actual writing. Once the writing session began, I protected my writing from possible interruptions to ensure a continuity of concentration. Namely, I made sure to close the tabs on the browser which had my email accounts open.
In some ways, I think Zerubavel describes writing as fundamentally important, therefore, planning for something this significant entails planning and execution that should not be left up to the whims of randomness. I appreciate his writing and the ideas it conveys. I will certainly be incorporating these ideas into my life (with a different schedule during the summer, when I have more time to write).
I noticed that having set aside the time and allowing myself the buffer at the beginning of the session afforded me a greater degree of concentration. Lastly, following his advice made me feel that what I am doing with this written piece is important (even if it is just important for me).
David,
ReplyDeleteAt the start of your post you talk about your relationship with language. That relationship sounded like you were going through the loss or grieving process where you were angry with it then began to accept the loss of your romance with it. It seems like you are loosing a part of yourself or your culture. I wonder if this is the process that most bilingual students go through when they are forced to learn a second language for survival or fitting in? I love the pictures you use that go along with your text. It is almost like they help tell the story as well. I am a visual person so I love it. And they also provide some comic relief. I was very captivated with your story. Great job and good use of your new writing habit! It is often hard to clear your mind away from the many distractions around you focus on writing.
Hello David,
ReplyDeleteIt is interesting that your relationship with language growing up is such a contrast to how I felt about language as a child. Although I have known you for 3 years through this program, I always learn some new detail about you each time I read something of yours. For me, speaking was torture throughout my childhood and adolescence. I always thought people spoke way too much. I would disengage if I didn't find relevance in what they were saying. I spoke only when necessary and just enough to get my point across. I definitely didn't move mountains with my communication skills. I obviously had to change these habits as an adult. But I was always very intuitive and had good ideas as a writer. I too migrated to the US which added an additional layer of discomfort in engaging in anything involving English, especially when having to speak. We have both well overcome these challenges and here we are! I also thought that dedicating some time prior to writing to check e-mail, phone, etc. helps me maintain focus for longer stretches. I get distracted easily with technology and correspondence, in turn interrupting my writing momentum. I guess integrating some cushion time during writing sessions can alleviate the need to stay connected but it also gives your mind a break from strenuous activity. My problem is that sometimes I take advantage of too many breaks, and that can be problematic too when attempting to meet deadlines. It's all about finding a good balance which can be tricky too. I think attempting some of the writing suggestions that we think can benefit us as writers is definitely beneficial at this point, especially since we all have a dissertation in the horizon to complete. I continue to look forward working with you, David! And so interesting learning about your formative years.
Your experience with language and colonialism is powerful and painful to read. I am reminded here of Lisa Delpit's ideas around the culture of power, and how you can use the language skills you have to critique and challenge the very structures of colonialism whence they emerged.
ReplyDelete