No Woman No Cry
Yesterday was the last day of my Creative Writing class. We brought our portfolios to turn in, brought snacks and drinks, and volunteered to share excerpts from our final work. The main part of my portfolio was a memoir "S.T.O.R.M." that I've been writing on and off for a couple of years now. It is about my family and the beginning of each family member's name is in the word STORM. For some reason, I was extremely nervous and my voice was shaky while I was sharing. Something about reading or speaking autobiographically makes things more nerve-racking. Anyhow, so when I got to the last story which was on the "M" or Mario for my dad, I got choked up and ran outside. I started crying and my heart was beating so fast. My teacher came out a few moments later to check on me and make sure I was okay. She said it was a very powerful image that I was describing and that she understood why I got chocked up. She offered to finish reading the paragraph to the rest of the class while I caught my breath. I waited for about ten minutes and went back inside. I was back to normal in no time and even volunteered to act out a play my classmate's had written. Looking at my new piece of almost finished work, I feel proud because I would have never gotten this far without the extra push of having to turn in it as an assignment. It was hard writing some of those sentences but quite therapeutic. I hope I can dedicate time next year to filling in more stories and then publish it as a book.