The print version of the 2023 spring~summer edition of Teach. Write.: A Writing Teachers” Literary Journal is available for purchase. Go to this link if you want to order a copy.
Also, an updated online version is also now available here.
I am currently seeking submissions for my first post-retirement edition of Teach. Write. Submissions will close on September 1, 2023. Click here for submission guidelines. I would love to see your work, especially if you are, or were, a writing teacher.
Thank you for your patience! I am grateful to all of the wonderful writers who made this edition–the last one before my retirement–so special.
Click below to access the online journal. A print version will be available in about two weeks.
Teach. Write.: A Writing Teachers’ Literary Journal–Spring~Summer 2023
So let me tell you a story:
The English instructor was in a rush that day, like too many other days, and she needed convenience. She hadn’t eaten much, and as a Type II diabetic, she needed to, but there was no time to go in, sit down, and have a decent meal, or so she thought. She decided, against her better judgment, to stop by a fast food place. She had heard that some places were offering more healthy options and that nutrition information is listed for the customer’s convenience, so she could just quickly get in line and get a salad or something.
That wouldn’t be too bad, would it?
The first place she saw she just passed on by because the line was so long. The next two places were no different, but the fourth place was a charm–short line. She got up to the board and found out why. The choices were limited–not really any healthy options as she had hoped– and the service was extremely slow and unfriendly. She didn’t blame the worker, though. Who wants to work for $7.25 an hour at a burger joint? And with the staffing problems these days, probably working double shifts as well.
Finally got her food. A Combo #1 because she mistakenly thought that would be the most convenient. Not exactly the healthy option she had hoped for. On top of that, it wasn’t really the kind of food that she could safely eat while driving, so she pulled into the parking lot to eat it while sitting in the car.
She thought it might be good to check her work e-mail while she was eating in case a student had a question or concern. For the convenience of the students, the faculty had been told to answer questions for students as soon as they can, you know. She reached over to grab the phone, accidentally hitting the lid of the container that held her food, including the three packets of ketchup that she had squirted out to put on her French fries. All of the ketchup and some of the greasy fries ended up on her skirt and blouse.
Therefore, when she returned to the college, she had to go to the restroom to clean up. Fortunately, she thought, she had a convenient little emergency laundry pen she carried in her purse for just such occasions that would take care of that ketchup in a jiffy. However, once she got to the restroom, she couldn’t find that little pen anywhere, even after searching through her purse for a few seconds, so she just gave up and did the best she could with a wet paper towel and a bit of soap.
Smelling still a bit tomatoey, she headed to her English composition class for workshop day, an opportunity for students to read each other’s essays and ask for advice, but before the workshop could begin, one student informed the instructor that he would have to leave in thirty minutes for a doctor’s appointment. Two students came up together saying they were up late the night before closing at the restaurant where they worked, so they didn’t have time to write the rough draft. Could they have an extension?
The instructor, having been told by her supervisors to do everything possible to accommodate the customers and to “find a way to say ‘yes,'” took the first student’s essay and told him that she would do the workshop herself, scan her feedback, and e-mail it to him, and of course, she would give the other two students their extensions. Then, they packed up their computers and began to leave, saying it would be more convenient for them to work on the essays together at home since they had the same work schedule. Of the remaining ten students in the class (there were 18 enrolled), two had partial drafts written in their notebooks and four students had rough drafts without the required in-text citations and works cited list. Only four had completed rough drafts with the proper documentation.
The instructor passed out the workshop worksheets and went to the computer closet down the hall to bring two students who had forgotten to bring computers despite numerous convenient reminders during class and through the LMS (Learning Management System). She came back to find that another student had packed up and left. “They said their hand was raised but you ignored it and then just left the room, so they went to ask last semester’s teacher for help,” said another student.
Then, there was Greg. Unbeknownst to the instructor, the previous day Greg had worked until six as a pharmacy assistant. He had taken the job to see if he was interested in becoming a pharmacist. It wasn’t easy balancing the job with all of the other things he had to do, but he was saving up to transfer to UNC-Chapel Hill, his dream school. After work, he had gone by to pick up his little sister who is a junior at one of the local high schools. She was at basketball practice, and his mother, a widow, didn’t get home until late some nights, so he was glad to help. He had to wait for his sister a little, but it gave him time to check on his classes. He saw the reminder from his English instructor that the rough draft of one of the class’s major essays was due for a workshop the next day. He hadn’t even started.
At home, he and his sister whipped up some whole wheat spaghetti noodles and heated up a bottle of his mother’s homemade spaghetti sauce that she had canned the previous weekend since she knew it was going to be a busy couple of weeks. They made a salad with some fresh vegetables from the garden to go along with it. Since their dad died, they were on a pretty strict budget, and the vegetables from the garden their mom started saved them a pretty penny. Even better, working in the garden was a good chance for them to relax and be together as a family. His sister loved it so much she was planning to take a class in horticulture at the college in her senior year. Right now, though, she wanted to concentrate on doing well in her high school classes, playing basketball, and helping out around the house.
Their mom got home about the time Greg and his sister sat down to eat. She joined them and they had a nice meal, talking about their days and laughing together, but Greg could tell how tired his mom was. She was a nurse and the long hours at the understaffed hospital where she worked were really getting to her. Plus, she was still grieving for their dad. They all were. His sister had some tough discrete math homework to do, and he remembered how hard that was, so he volunteered to do the dishes while his mom went to watch some TV and have a little downtime. His sister sat at the table and shot him questions when she ran into a tough problem. After he finished, he sat down beside her to help some more. It felt good to get off his feet.
He had some other homework to do and a test to study for, so it was getting close to midnight when he finally started working on the essay, but he knew it was only a “messy” draft, and as long as he met the basic requirements, a complete three pages, double-spaced with at least two sources cited in the text, and works cited list, he would get full credit. He was pretty tired and tempted to just not worry about the draft, but then he remembered his dream of going to Chapel Hill and becoming a pharmacist like he promised his dad he would. He went back to work and finished the paper around 1:30 am.
The next day in class, Greg waited patiently for his English instructor to look at his essay, but time was running out. Finally, she came around to him with about five minutes of class left. “I’m so sorry, Greg,” she said, “Now that classes have been shortened again for the convenience of students, we’re almost out of time.”
“That’s okay.” He tried to sound cheerful but was a bit disappointed. She had been an English teacher for a long time, and he valued her opinion.
“But I feel bad.”
He believed her.
“Listen, do you have time to stay and come to my office? I could take a better look at the essay and give you some feedback.”
“Sure,” he said. “If you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind at all.”
They went to her office, and she spent thirty minutes with him talking about organization, sentence structure, and word usage. He even started understanding comma splices better, finally. He was definitely sleepy from staying up late the night before, but in the end, it was worth it.
After Greg left and his instructor turned to the dozens of assignments she had to grade before she could allow herself to go home, she smiled, thinking the same thing. Definitely worth it.
The End
And the moral to the story: A homemade education slow-cooked with care and concern by students, faculty, and staff beats a fast, “millions sold per day” credential designed, not to satisfy, but to placate. That kind of education wears off awfully fast, leaving the “customer” malnourished, yet ravenous, once again.
I am
Keeping my place
Like a bookmark on a page
In an old, shelved book
That once marked a quote
Someone wanted to remember.
I am
Curling inward
Like autumn’s fallen leaves
in forgotten piles.
They littered the lawn but
Someone forgot to burn them.
I am
Preparing to go
To leave this room
So new and clean
No place here
for one as
Musty
As me.
~Katie Winkler
Photo Credits
The Fall~Winter 2022 edition of Teach. Write. is here! I love editing this journal, and it always amazes me how things come together. In this edition, we have a special feature asking for readers’ feedback. Hope you will read it and let the author know what you think.
Here is the link to the new edition’s page: Fall~Winter 2022 Teach. Write.
I will be accepting submissions for the Spring~Summer 2023 edition until March 1 with an expected publication date of April 1, 2023. Here is a line to the submission guidelines. I would love to read your work!!
I am excited that next weekend, on Saturday, October 8, my one-act parody of Poe’s “The House of Usher” called “Roddy’s House Comes Down” is going to be workshopped at Hendersonville Theatre in Hendersonville, North Carolina. A few months ago, one of my students had a play that she wrote for my creative writing class read during this reader’s theater program, and she inspired me to give it a try!
If that’s not good enough, my former student and now friend and collaborator, Curtis McCarley composed music for the song included in the play called “Usher’s Lament.” It was like old times as Curtis and I worked on the song, just like we did for our musical A Carolina Story and other projects we’ve done through the years.
Click here for more information about Hendersonville Theatre, and maybe I’ll see you there!!
One of the great joys for any teacher is celebrating the successes of her students. On Saturday, July 9, at Hendersonville Theatre in Hendersonville, NC, I was so happy to attend a reading of my former student’s short play that she wrote while in my creative writing class last spring. It was her last semester, and although she is not planning to study English as she continues her academic career, she told her advisor, my colleague and friend, that she always wanted to be a writer, so my colleague suggested Creative Writing I, a course that I was teaching for the first time as an eight-week course–completely online.
It wasn’t an easy course to teach or to take–fitting in sixteen weeks of material in half the time was going to be a challenge, but my student consistently turned in quality, polished work in all of the genres we studied. About the time we got to the drama unit, I found out that the local community theater was conducting a play reading series to help local playwrights workshop their plays. Then, my student submitted the ten-minute play, “Book Club,” to fulfill the playwriting assignment.
The play was good, very good–it had solid structure, strong characters with distinct voices, humor, and most importantly, something to say about the foibles of our society. Almost on a whim, I suggested that Amber submit the play for the reading series and gave her the information, not really thinking that she would have the time with her busy schedule to submit the play, but a few weeks later, she e-mailed me that her play had been accepted.
So, there I was on that Saturday, in the audience, listening to six fine local actors read my student’s little play and then hearing the audience members–actors, directors, family members, and patrons of the theater offer words of encouragement to the young writer and give suggestions for taking the play further, maybe expanding it. Afterwards, I was able to meet her parents and grandmother who were there in support of her achievement
To make the day even better, my good friend and fellow playwright Pat’s play, “Amanda” was also read. It, too, was a fine play and also featured great actors–A short play about a woman’s whose house cat suddenly and inexplicably miraculously changes form to the great delight and laughter of the audience. Like all good comedies, however, it had its poignant and touching moments as well.
On Wednesday of the next week, Pat and I talked about writing ten-minute plays at the fantastic little watering hole called the Brandy Bar in Hendersonville on historic 7th Avenue for the “In the Company of Writers” series sponsored by the North Carolina Writers’ Network–Henderson County. After sipping on brandy cocktails and listening to some cool, jazzy blues, we read our own little play about writing plays before talking about plays, among other literary things, especially the non-pecuniary value of our art.
It was a great evening in the mid-week after classes to follow a wonderful afternoon on the weekend, spending quality time with writers and immersing myself in one of my great loves–the theater.
Teach. Write. –It’s a good life!
The print version of the 2022 spring~summer edition of Teach. Write.: A Writing Teacher’s Literary Journal is now available for purchase in the Lulu Bookstore.
Click HERE to go to the journal’s page.
Once again, I thank all of the fine contributors to this edition. I am so very grateful to them for entrusting me with their work.
I know I give myself so much more to do by publishing this journal, and my teaching, writing, and editing deadlines often collide, but I love editing Teach. Write. It allows me to be autonomous in my creativity. I don’t have to please anyone except myself in the end.
But, of course, I do hope this edition pleases you, too.
Here is the link to the online version if you missed it!
I am happy to present the Spring~Summer 2022 edition of Teach. Write.: A Writing Teachers’ Literary Journal. It continues to amaze me how things come together despite my fumbling and failing in the midst of all the planning, teaching, and grading, grading, grading. Oh, my, the grading.
Don’t get me wrong. I still love my work, but editing my fellow writers’ stories, poems, and essays isn’t the same. These writers have made the process a joy–a source of pleasure and relief from the daily routine of over 30 years. I only hope that my efforts do justice to my contributors’ work.
So here it is! Enjoy! And thank you so much, dear contributors!
FYI–A link where those who are interested can purchase a print version will be available soon, usually takes me about a week.
Episode 13 of my podel (podcasted novel) is now available. Why not take a listen to it and the other twelve as well? I hope it won’t be so long between episodes again. Episode 13: Mrs. Whittakers 7,360th Class
Haunted Hendo: An Anthology of Short Films Featuring Mountain Mysteries and Local Lore premiered last night on YouTube. Some of the 50, yes 50, cast and crew gathered at the college for a pot luck supper. We enjoyed watching the films and seeing all our hard work come together. We kept saying over and over again, “I can’t believe we pulled it off.”
It’s been a wild ride.
At the end of the spring semester last year, Jennifer Treadway, the head of the theater department, and I conceived of a series of short films focusing on local ghost stories and legends. In the summer, the director called together a core group of faculty, students, alumni, community members, and actor/producer/writer Z. Joseph Guice, our artist-in-residence, to write the scripts for the films to be included in the series. By the end of the summer, the scripts were written.
Early in the semester, Jennifer held group auditions for all films, casting students and community members, as well as assigning people to various filmmaking roles, including directors, assistant directors, cinematographers, editors, and general crew. With limited resources, including film equipment, the schedule for filming was carefully planned and all took on multiple roles. The schedule was tight and sometimes we didn’t think we would make it, but we did.
Although sometimes frustrating and difficult, what a wonderful learning opportunity for all of us, especially the students in the Acting for Film class and those in the Film and Video Production program. The end result is eight short films connected by some ghostly introductions.
Below is a link to the BRCC Theatre YouTube Page. There, you will find the playlist for Haunted Hendo. I wrote the screenplays for Boojum: The Musical and The Tourist. I directed the film my daughter wrote and edited called The Siren of the French Broad.
Enjoy!
AND HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!
Hey, Mrs. Winkler! 