Reflecting on the therapeutic value of writing

From my teaching journal, one year ago:

Over the last few weeks I have been reflecting on the text, “Writing as a Way of Healing” by Louise DeSalvo. It has inspired me to use the two units that are most dear to me for my classes. I am concurrently implementing “Character Maps: Navigating toward Personal Transformation” in my Sophomore English Class and “A Master Class in Poetry” for my senior English class. I have been deeply affected by DeSalvo’s text, and have recently been able to put words around why it has given me a haunting sense of déjà vu. The journey she takes her readers on very closely parallels my creative experience during my four semesters in the Goddard MFA Program, and the manuscript that was birthed from it. On page 22, DeSalvo quotes James Pennebaker (in italics) and extrapolates with her response:

To improve health, we must write detailed accounts, linking feelings with events. The more writing succeeds as narrative—by being detailed, organized, compelling, vivid, lucid—the more health and emotional benefits are derived from writing. (DeSalvo, p.22)

This was very true for me in the creative process. My first semester MFA advisor, Kenny Fries, confronted me with the reality that whenever I was taking steps toward a significant emotional truth in my writing, I would veer off into safe, ambiguous and larger than life metaphors, and squander the opportunity for truth telling. “What are you afraid of?" "What are you hiding from?" and "What are you waiting for?” were ferocious mantras continually spoken by Kenny to challenge me.” I was afraid that if I told the truth, it would devour me and everyone around me, and I would alienate everyone I cared about. I wasn’t trusting and didn’t feel safe enough to venture out without guilding the truth into something that could be ‘useful’ for my audience.

In my following semesters, advised by Elena Georgiou (one of the very Hunter students mentioned by DeSalvo in her book (xi) ) my courage to step out of my self-imposed cave led to the most important breakthroughs in my writing (and my emotional well-being) as I diligently worked to be as vivid and lucid as possible, sparing nothing in my writing.

Following my work with Elena, I worked with Laura Fargas for my final semester. During a time where students usually do not produce new work, Laura noticed a ‘gap, or a shadow’ in my manuscript, intuiting that there was something I had not put on the page. Just when I thought I had gone as deep as I could go, Laura helped me to come up with work surrounding my mother; perhaps the most salient in the manuscript.

As Desalvo, and Pennebaker had mentioned, my emotional well-being, rather than being consumed, gave me an empowering perspective over my past. Telling the truth in vivid detail was exhausting but liberating, as DeSalvo recalls how Henry Miller put it (p.?) on how his wounds were in the open air, clean and no longer festering. These were wounds that could heal. This is what I want for my students, as they begin to write their own narratives.