Roles

There are the ones you choose, and the ones you don’t. All have models for success and failure. These are my roles, the models I follow, and how they impact my writing.

 

Son

I was born into this. Oh, how I have failed, disappointed, and abandoned. Oh, how I have succeeded, made proud, and returned.

Reader

 

Maybe my oldest chosen role. I read for pleasure and to learn. I’ve developed a system for reading that allows me to read all genres. Teacher and reader go together. In fact, my initial reason for wanting to teach English  was because I would be able to read books for a living. Reader and writer go together. I learned this from my brother, who, while I was content to just be a reader, encouraged me to write too.

 

Student

 

I tell my students that I have been in school my entire conscious life. Even now I take summer classes. Sadly, I am not the best student. I often slack on homework, procrastinate, settle. This blog is a weak replacement for an assignment given to me by my poetry mentor. I was supposed to write every day, not once a week. I am eager to learn and eager to please, I don’t know if that makes up for my shortcomings. I plan on being in school for the rest of my conscious life.

 

Teacher

 

I chose this role when I was in high school. I have been teaching for two years now. I like that there are clear guidelines. A good teacher does this, this, and this. There are the standards and etiquette. Systems you can study and learn. I get paid for this role. The pay is worth it.

Gamer

 

This is a role that I’m trying to let go. It consumes my mental space and my time. I enjoy playing games. The strategy involved has made me a sharper thinker. I met my best friend while learning to be a gamer. He taught me to take games seriously. Each action counts. Doing your best counts, even if you know you’ve lost.

 

Writer

 

In the seventh grade I won a poetry award for a poem I still remember:

 

The dew on the grass waits

for the sun to break

the barrier of darkness.

 

I remember writing it, and reading it to my teacher and her saying it was very good. Who knows if I’d even be writing this if it weren’t for that encouragement.  I was delighted that she found my writing pleasing. Still, I want my writing to be primarily enjoyable. I try not to put any constraint on my poems or thoughts. By this I mean, I avoid writing as social activism. I enjoy the story telling aspect this role, the humor and the pain of telling about life. My models for this are Stephen Dobyns, Katerina Stoykova-Klemer, Billy Collins, Anis Mojgani and the list goes on. These people capture life simply and complexly.

 

Friend

Being a friend is one of the hardest roles of all. The expectations are often murky. The relationship built along the blade of a knife. It requires energy, awkwardness, trust, respect, a shared history or future. I have to believe I can learn from my friends. They have to have some admirable quality that you wish to see replicated in yourself. I’m fortunate to have many good and great friends.

 

Husband

 

Coming Soon.

Brother

 

I have two sisters and a brother. I focus mainly on my role as a brother to my brother. There is much violence in this coming from Greek mythology, Christian mythology, our history. There is competition. There is a deep and physical love, and a desire to better one another. The poems I write about being a brother have a hard time capturing the volcanic relationship.

 

Father

 

There is more space in this role than I can ever fill. Even in my poetry I have a hard time exploring it. I think about my father a lot, his physical absence. I think about the physical absence of a God. I want to be, and am, present in my daughter’s life, but that’s not even the hard part. In the beginning of her life I felt unnecessary. I didn’t provide sustenance. Now that she is growing and learning more and more each day, I have more to offer. I focus on these smaller roles within our relationship as I write. I am the bath giver, hand holder, book reader, nighttime comforter, silly song singer, and so much more.

 

Next week I’ll be thinking about humor.

*************************

Write a poem addressed to the person who gives you a role to fulfill.

 

*************************

Daughter

 

Teach me the meaning

of both hands stretched

toward the sky: your balance

abandoned as you cast

yourself into a room

full of light and toys.