Final Workshop Reflection

When I registered for this Creative Non-Fiction Workshop last semester I did not know what to expect nor did I consider myself a creative non-fiction author. Undoubtedly, I hoped to come into the classroom and share my life with people whom I thought would be doing the same. And, although I definitely enjoyed expressing a part of me that I do not regularly share, I have also come away with a totally different perspective of what the exploration of creative non-fiction truly implies. Because, I am thirty-years-old, I am kind of old enough to understand the transition that has taken place between reality and technology. However, as a passive thinker of these concepts I never considered how important “a mind’s eye” really is. Dr. Dragan, has done an amazing job of bridging the gap and stressing the importance of remaining consciously aware of the significant transformation that is happening our culture. The consistent references made to distinguish historical and contemporary juxtapositions on journalism and documentation were really telling and I learned so much.

            Every author that we have ever covered save Toure and McCourt (although I have never read Angela’s Ashes prior to this course) were brand new to me. Sacks, McCourt, Styron, Hoagland, Wurtzel, Martinez wrote such powerful pieces and I will continue to follow them and their work long after my departure with ENG 274. All of the literature I have become acquainted with has spun my conventional ideas of creative non-fiction upside down and has given it a breadth I had not ever thought to associate with the genre at all, which has ultimately broadened my perceptions of where I could go with it. The New Yorker! I have never leant its work such admiration until I became familiar with the material and now have come to really appreciate its history.  The YouTube videos that accompanied some of the authors' work really offered energized the material and are a practice I have adopted as a result of taking this course.

            A few weeks ago, I came across a quote which read, “the most lively thought is still inferior to the dullest sensation” by the philosopher David Hume. And it prompted me to think about all I have learned in this workshop and the importance of journaling in particular. I have learned how imperative it is to journal almost religiously even if just a mere quote. And to keep record of our lives even if we will never share some of it with anyone at all. I made a goal to strive little by little to journal at least once a day. Embrace my truth, accept my struggles and work to unpack who it is that I am and ever will become.

            This course was a great experience and I have come away from it better read and prepared to do more to honor myself, loved ones and any circle I may encounter. And, to read, read, read! There is so much great stuff out there I have yet to discover and the journey has only just begun.

Author's Note on Personal Memoir

Fast forward to October 2012, where I am on the A train to a Columbia University’s School of General Studies Open House. I was on the same route I took for so many years as a dialysis patient, a transplant patient and now soon to be LaGuardia Community College graduate. I commenced my studies only two months after receiving the transplant. I cannot believe how drastic a change my life has taken. While on that train ride I understood more intimately than ever the power of fortitude and a miracle. Today, I stand undeterred from pursuing my dreams of higher education. I strive to be the best mother, wife, friend and student I can be. Today, my life stands as a testament to all that was good and great in my donor’s short life and to all that his parents, friends and teachers will never bear witness to. I stand to make good on all of the promises he was unable to keep and dreams he will never realize. Today, we stand with purpose, transcendent and extraordinary.     

               I wrote about this part of my life because I wanted to relive these moments not only in my head but also in my spirit. It is not often that an opportunity arises where I can speak about this extraordinary experience that has ultimately informed my every decision since it has taken place. It just seemed a perfect fit for the Memoir assignment. When I sat down to type this, I had no idea so much would come out of it. I made a conscious effort to stay as true to the experience as much as my sensations would allow. This assignment forced me to truly consider my donor’s life and what it may have been like. What was the circumstance which led to his unfortunate and untimely death? The result of this piece has led me to truly contemplate reaching out to my donor’s family in order to personally thank them. I honestly did not have any author in mind when I wrote this as it kind of came pouring out of me. I love when that happens because it just feels so easy and makes for an authentic piece of writing. The organic process of writing reminds me to recall the great art of form of expressing ourselves through this medium and how powerful it truly is. This story is one that I hope to rewrite and revise until it is perfect. It is a special one and I am glad to wholly embrace it. It is a part of being, my fabric, and physical body, literally. And, who knows? Perhaps when I meet my donor’s family I can offer them a copy as well.

Planning an Interview for a 'Personal Profile'

There is a young lady who rides the Q39 from Ridgewood to the LaGuardia CC campus and I am am curious too get to know her. She uses a walker and I cannot speculate as to what kind of illness she may have but her attitude always appears to be delightful and I am attracted to her energy. She boards the bus via lift, sits in the same seat everyday and then puts her full equipped headphones on blast the whole way to the college. She is always smiling, she seems really strong.

If I have an opportunity to speak with her and she feels comfortable, I would like to ask her about her daily routine along with a few other questions like:

Where do you see yourself in five years?

What kind of career are you pursuing?

What do you want your legacy to be?

Do you have any regrets?

Something tells me that it is going to be a deeply moving conversation and I hope that she is as open to it as I imagine her to be. I am little anxious because I have not one an activity like this but I am up for he challenge and think it will be fun!

Responding to William Styron's Darkness Invisble

Darkness Invisible, is an amazing piece about the systematic breakdown of Styron's mental state. In his memoir, Styron offers explicit accounts of his own depression and the madness which relentlessly ensued him. What makes his memoir so unique is the way he offers up the details and the tone he employs to express his anguish. It often comes across as though he is explaining a lucid dream, as if the experience was not truly his own first-hand account, but that he is expressing an outline of that which he witnessed as a bystander outside of himself. Throughout this story its as if Styron is wrestling his symptoms in an attempt to rescue his sanity from the dread of "[ceaseless] oblivion."


I found Styron's description of alcoholism truly telling. In it he describes it as "a daily mood bath", which I find almost validates an addicts disease in some sense, because it plainly states alcohol's purpose to an addicts life. If alcohol can make one feel as though they have continuous access to "an invaluable senior partner of [his] intellect" or possesses the power to allow one's "mind [to] conceive visions that the unaltered, sober brain has no access to" then Styron's alcoholism seems a bit more enchanting than it does repulsive. Of course, his description of alcoholic withdrawal is just as compelling as its euphoria is explained as well. I, myself, have experienced being "emotionally naked" but have never thought to coin my own unnerving vulnerability in such a way, and yet, that is precisely how it feels. It's experience is indeed a jolting "mood disorder" and can certainly be an "enervation" at times as well.


Someone once said to me and I found to resonate was "that the experience of anything is proof that it is true." And for me, Darkness Invisible is just that. I believe that this story is so successful because even if one never experienced "melancholy", "depression" or "diabolical discomfort" due to insanity, anxiety or a mental breakdown, humanity as a whole has indeed experienced something like it at one point in their lives. It does not matter if it was because of an exam, a death in the family or a late train to a board meeting. As human beings we share an affinity to feelings of both joy and despair alike, it is just that "most human beings still stagger down the road, unscathed by real depression."

Writing on a Historical Photograph DRAFT

This man appears to be really angry, an agitated spirit, who stands in austerity. His gesture is emphatic, bold and unforgiving. His index finger points to his audience in a forceful manner and appeases no one, as veins protrude from his forehead and the stare blazes with hatred and indignation. But, what does he speak for? His language appears ferocious, exacting a message that is clear and absolute. But, what does he speak for? Is it equality or justice? Perhaps, revenge or retribution? Maybe, peace and truth? The media of his time portrayed him a killer, racist and disturber of the peace. Whose peace? 

Reading Description of "Across the Wire"

Urrea's Across the Wire, is a poignant story of life in the "dompes" (dumps) along the Tijuana/San Diego border. In it, Urea describes his acquaintance with various people and families, living in these dumps, often in raw detail, documenting their incomprehensible plights. I became quite intrigued with the story because I cannot conceive living so inhumanely, and yet Urea shares his characters' story with as much dignity as the context could possibly allow. Across the Wire, conveys a repulsive environment devised of "scabies...dump rats...and feces" set-up alongside, a pit wherein "the city drops off its dead animals-dogs, cats, sometimes goats, horses...[to be] torched." What makes this imagery even more astonishing is the hierarchy of station, between the residents, which accompanies it. Even in the most dire of circumstances humans always find ways to establish a socio-cultural order and more often than not, the people therein are inevitably ranked according to whatever measure is established.

Take into account, Dona Araceli, "the Cheese Lady" who was somewhat of an advocate for new and poorer  families (if there is such a thing in these parts) moving into the dompe, and emphatically made it her business to assure that there were houses built for them. And then there are "the Serrano's" a stereotypical family comprised of a mother, father, two boys and a little girl, and another baby on the way. Yet, Mrs. Serrano was stricken with such dehydration that it was thought the baby would never make it to full gestation. Urea, and his colleagues help the mother by prescribing medications to her but are quickly refused by her husband because they "can't read." Mrs. Serrano was then instead given an anti-diarrea medication and "jugs of Gatorade..water..and some clothes." The living conditions that the Serrano's and other families endure are unimaginable and yet they function just as such, to the point where even their sexual appetites are hardly quelled and they often increase the size of their families in spite of the poverty they are stricken with. Families of the dompe love fiercely, endure the madness of eating "meat that is not too rotten to be cooked", and find the finest luxuries in other people's waste. Moreover, they hold tight to their pride and push through it like a lawnmower through grass. As better explained by Urea, "the poor don't feel the compunction to play the humble and quiet role we assign them in our minds." At least, the people of the San Diego/Tijuana dompe that Urea describes surely do not.

The saddest story in Across the Wire was that of Jesusita and her family. Urea describes her as a loved one, perhaps an "aunt" or endearing relative who held a demeanor that could disarm the hardest of souls. Jesusita, was somewhat of a celebrity around town attending church service and bible studies.  Such an environment even had a church institutionalized within it which proves even further the tenacity of the human spirit. Unfortunately, Jesusita's and her husband would be made to endure a terrible murder by thugs of the community, forcing their children from their home, never to be found again. All of these different elements of society and life built right into a place of "miasma" and filth and yet these families and countless others go on as if there is no hope and that all is meant to be as it is, fully functional however debilitating the long-term effects are.              

"Author's Note"

He emerges from the stairs, “what the hell am I gonna do with 75 cents? You can’t even buy a cup of coffee with 75 cents these days! I ain’t worried God is good and he will repay me!” Just then a man exits the McDonald's and hands him over a fresh meal and coffee, “here you go man, God bless you.” “For me?!” he jumped in ecstasy, pointing at us, exclaiming emphatically, “I told you so!! I told you so! God is good! Aw, man I cannot believe this, thank you Jesus!” He then sat in his favorite spot, began to giddily chow down, eyes and smile beaming the whole time with a face as if to say, I'm the man. 

I was inspired to write this story because it speaks to a time in my life when things were carefree and although the moments written of are clear snapshots of my memory, the framework which they exist in are as hazy as a hot summer day and make them really special to me. I did not have any specific literature in mind when I wrote this, I just wanted to veer off the beaten path. I am so used writing about my past, life story, experiences, blah, blah, blah and it is getting old, especially because I am dead smack in the middle of my transfer workup and that is all I am currently writing about. I have never written short stories before and find the format quite relaxing and much different from the rigidity of poem, academic and required writing. I am trying to uncover and realize other dimensions of writing like humor, dialogue, and perhaps fiction too. I find that my ideas flowed much more freely writing this piece which made it really fun. I was always an avid believer in traditional writing i.e brainstorming, jotting ideas, writing and revising all with a pen and have only recently given in to the evolution of writing and speaking to a small screen in order to organize my thoughts. I find it fast and convenient which is a far cry from my stance on this tradition 2 years ago (just ask my son), I cannot believe I tortured him about that! 

I hope to develop this story with more vivid detail and maybe even embellish a little humor and dialogue so as to enlighten and enliven this piece over the semester. This time around its no more sad stories but fun, thrilling, and suspenseful albeit still real and truthful records on the horizon.