A week ago, I attended the inaugural Poetry Camp at Western Washington University in Bellingham, Washington.
This one-day conference changed me.
But before I get into how and why it did, let me back up a bit.
I’ve been taking writing classes and attending literary workshops and conferences since 2003; so, for the last 13 years. Before every class or workshop or conference, I’ve been excited and a little anxious, sometimes very anxious. I used to wonder why, and after a bunch of years of going through this, I realized that I get nervous about things that I’m very scared of and/or very excited about.
I was looking forward to attending Poetry Camp but I wasn’t nervous because I hadn’t signed up for it in the first place.
Huh? I know. Let me explain.
My friend and critique partner Brenda Olson had asked me if I wanted to go to Poetry Camp something like six months ago. I said, no, since I hardly ever write poetry (even though I love it) and figured I needed to focus on writing my novel, not on going to another conference. But Brenda signed up, as well as our mutual friend and former classmate Amy.
Then, the week of Poetry Camp, Amy contacted me to see if I might want to go in her place. You see, Amy’s in a MFA program and she needed time to catch up with her studies–she didn’t have time to spend a whole day in Bellingham. I looked at the program online, saw that the amazing poet and children’s book author Janet Wong was one of the keynote speakers, and realized that I HAD TO GO.
The first sign that I was on the right path was seeing this hand-painted cat bus right outside the Air BnB Brenda and I were staying at the day before the conference.
The second sign I was on the right path was attending Robin Hood Black‘s Found Poem Workshop at Village Books the night before the conference, and having the most fun I’ve had with a group of strangers in a long time. At one point, I took a breath, looked around, and realized I was completely surrounded by poets and authors all cutting, pasting, stamping, talking, and laughing. It was heaven.
Here’s a pic of the found poetry art we created.
That night, Brenda and I met two poets at our table: Greg Pincus and Bob Raczka. They cracked us up! They were so funny bantering with each other that we thought they were old friends. Turns out, they had exchanged some emails in the past but had only met that day for the first time. These two and their camaraderie were an indication of what was to come the next day.
Here’s Brenda and Bob with his funny and whimsical book, Guyku: A Year of Haiku for Boys.
Here’s me, Greg, and Brenda, with Greg’s debut novel, The 14 Fibs of Gregory K, a great book for kids who struggle with math.
So, that’s two great signs already that I was on the right path, but it wasn’t all unicorns and roses.
That night, even though I went to bed early, I could not sleep. I had racing thoughts. I felt jittery due to the antibiotics I was taking for a chronic gut issue. My stomach was bloated and gurgling for hours. I was in a strange room in a strange (but cute) little house. I was lying next to Brenda instead of my husband Marcus. I love Brenda, but still, it felt weird trying to sleep next to someone I’m not used to sleeping next to. In the end, I got zero sleep.
Zero.
The next morning, my stomach was still bloated and messed up and I felt like a walking zombie. You’re thinking, just drink some coffee! I can’t. I know it’s abnormal and practically unorthodox to be a writer who doesn’t drink coffee, but I’m one of those strange birds. Drinking caffeine makes me a quivering mess. And I was already messed up enough.
So, we went off to Poetry Camp and I tried to stay awake.
Most of Poetry Camp took place in WWU’s Wilson Library Reading Room, also known as the Harry Potter Room because of its “expansive magical qualities.”
But it wasn’t the space that made the conference magical.
What made it magical was the people.
You see, after attending all kinds of literary events for the past 13 years, I’ve never been to one where every single person I encountered smiled at me and said, “Hi.”
Do you know how it feels to be acknowledged, seen, and welcomed by everyone you meet?
If you don’t know how this feels because you’re used to it, let me tell you my experience.
At past writing events and conferences I’ve been to, 9 times out of 10, and often 10 times out of 10, I’m the one that says, “Hi,” and I’m the one that introduces herself and asks the other person what’s their name and what brings them here. Most writing events I’ve been to, including all the ones for children’s book authors, have felt cold-ish, clique-y, and somewhat elitist. Even when the content is good, and I learn some great tips from the instructors, people in general seem more intent on talking to people they already know than talking to someone new.
Often when I go to a writing class, workshop, or conference, I might know one, perhaps two people there. Sometimes, I don’t know anyone. But I still try to make an effort to get to know people.
But so many times, I feel like the only one.
The only person of color in the room.
The only woman of color in the room.
And one of the only people trying to be open and friendly.
I’ll talk to friends who go to the same workshop or conference and they don’t feel this way. They feel welcomed, acknowledged, and encouraged. Sometimes, I’ll notice this dichotomy happening right in front of me. Someone will sit down and introduce themselves to my friend or colleague sitting right next to me, but they won’t extend their hand to me.
It’s disconcerting.
It’s frustrating.
It hurts.
I’m not going to get into my theories behind why this happens. Believe me, I have my theories. But I’m not going to get into it right now. I just want to tell you how it feels and how it’s felt for many years.
But I didn’t feel that way at Poetry Camp.
I felt welcomed.
I felt acknowledged.
I felt seen.
Was it because so many people there were poets?
Was it because so many people there loved poetry?
I don’t know.
I just know that it happened.
I felt it.
I’ll never forget it.
It changed me. For the better.
Thanks to the wondrous masterminds and Camp Directors Nancy Johnson and Sylvia Tag for coordinating this wonderful conference. Here’s Nancy with her cute blue “Camp Director” bandana. Sorry, I don’t have a pic of you, Sylvia. Next year!
Thanks to keynote speaker, poet, professor, and publisher Sylvia Vardell (love your Share Poetry! dress) for leading us through the day with Janet Wong, and to instructor, poet, and author Irene Latham for being so friendly and open (you were one of the first people Brenda and I talked to at camp and you just blew us away!).
Thanks to keynote speaker, poet, author, and publisher Janet Wong for making the day extra special for me. You are a pioneer and trailblazer for the Asian American creative community. I admire you and I love your poetry. Also, you called me out in one of the workshops and I’ll never forget it.
Thanks to all the poets, teachers, librarians, and writers I met that made Poetry Camp such a joyful and life-affirming experience–Kathi Appelt, Joan Bransfield Graham, and so many others–there’s too many of you to name but I remember your faces and I remember how you made me feel.
Thanks to Mattie for the wonderful dinner the night before and for driving us to the Found Poetry workshop.
Thanks to Brenda for driving me to Poetry Camp, letting me crash at your Air BnB, and being such an awesome friend and writing comrade.
Last but not least, HUGE thanks to Amy Poffenbarger for giving me her spot at the conference. You never know how saying NO to one thing will become a life-changing YES for someone else. Thank you, Amy.
ps. By the way, in case you’re wondering, once I got into the flow of Poetry Camp, my stomach settled down, my shoulders relaxed, I got my second wind, and my energy was sustained for the rest of the day. That’s what poetry will do for you.
Peg Cheng is the author of The Contenders, a middle-grade novel centered on the question, can enemies become friends? She is currently writing another novel that is a re-imagining of the Snow White fairy tale set in 1980s Seattle.
All photos by me except the Poetry Camp booklet, the found poetry art, and the one of me and Janet Wong are by Brenda Olson.
What a fantastic overview on Poetry Camp 2016! I will admit, a spark for poetry, penned as a new habit, is smoldering at the forefront of my Mondays. I loved the company of my like-minded friend, you are the best Peg!
KAC
Brenda
Thank you, Brenda! Writing and Poetry comrades, that’s right! I love that you’re reserving Mondays for writing poetry. Onward! 🙂
So beautifully written. Thank you for putting in words the magic and poetry of the weekend.
Thanks so much, Nancy! It was magical, wasn’t it? I’m glad that feeling came across in my post.
Thank you, Peg, for this tribute to Poetry Camp–so happy to have met you at this wonderful gathering!
You’re very welcome, Janet! My pleasure. I loved meeting you too. Hope our paths cross again someday.
Dear Peg, I’ve got all the warm fuzzies reading this post! I was so happy to meet you and Brenda, and I loved the observations you shared with me about what you’ve been learning about metaphor through your reading. I, too, have found the Poetry Friday community to be the warmest and most welcoming and so thoroughly inspiring! You are one of us! Thank you for being there, and for sharing your experience here. I love that smiling bus, too. 🙂 Happy writing!
Awww, thanks, Irene! That’s awesome that my post gave you the warm fuzzies. I get the same feeling when I think about that magical, wondrous day. You have an incredibly good memory. Brenda and I loved talking with you about metaphors and POV. Your positivity and willingness to help new writers both charmed and stunned us. You’re a true gem! I hope our paths cross again someday.
Thank you for making time to post about your life-changing experience at Poetry Camp, Peg. May we have permission to share this post on our PoetryCHaT website?
Yes, absolutely! Thank you for wanting to post it on the PoetryCHaT website. I’m thrilled. 🙂
It sounds like you had an awesome experience! I’m so glad you and Brenda went. Are you going to be writing poetry as well as novels? Or poetry in your novels? I can’t wait to see where this leads!
Mary
I wish you could have been there, Mary! If they put it on again next year, I hope you’ll join us.
I’m going to start writing poetry whenever I need a break from my novels. Brenda and I agreed to each write a poem and then share them at the end of October. Want to join us? If I can write one poem per month for a whole year, I’ll be proud of myself. I might include poetry in an upcoming novel–perhaps the sequel to The Contenders.
Hi Peg,
The title of this post pretty much sums up the best aspirations of educators, librarians, and artists – that our work and time together is affecting. On a personal note, your words mean so much to all of the organizers. Thank you from the bottom of my heart!
Thank YOU, Sylvia! I’m glad I was able to voice how much Poetry Camp meant to me, and then you and the other organizers read it and felt good about what you did. Your efforts had a HUGE impact on me and many others too. Thank you again.
Peg! I’m so glad you persevered! I was experiencing similar physical symptoms as a presenter with lupus. 🙂 Thanks for sharing your kind words.
Here’s to your novel, your poetry, and your sense of inclusion. Write forward!
Hi Lorie, thank you for your kind note! I’m so sorry to hear you have lupus. I really appreciate you writing in and letting me know that you had similar symptoms that day too. It’s good to know that I wasn’t the only one. Thank you so much for the encouragement. Write on! 🙂
What a powerful post. I am so glad you were able to go and that the conference had an impact on you.
Thank you for your kind words, Jone! Yes, I’m so grateful that I was able to go and that it turned out the way it did.
What an amazing description of what I also found to be a wonderful weekend. It was great getting to meet and chat with you and Brenda at the found poetry shindig (which I gotta say turned into “found joy” over the course of the evening – it was an unexpected blast all around), then being part of a day of poetry celebration. I look forward to our paths crossing virtually and, I hope, in person again!
Hey Greg, thanks for writing in and thanks for your kind kudos! I’m so glad you had a wonderful time at Poetry Camp too. You’re right–the found poetry workshop WAS found joy. I truly hope our paths cross again.
Oh, Peg! What a heart-warming post. I smiled and smiled the whole way through. [As soon as I got back to my side of the country after the weekend, we were told the next day to make plans to evacuate. I haven’t had time to properly relish our magical weekend! But we’re heading home tomorrow, so if there’s power soon (crosses fingers), I look forward to catching up.]
This post was soul-nourishing! Thanks for the found poetry workshop shout-out and for sharing your treasured experience. It was wonderful meeting you all!
Aww, Robyn, thank you so much for your kind and sweet words. I love that you found my post to be “soul nourishing.” Wow. Love it!
You are so welcome for the shout-out about your Found Poetry Workshop. It was such a wonderful experience. I showed my poetry art piece to four of my friends after I got back from Poetry Camp, and now they all want me to host a get-together and teach them how to do it! Thank you again. 🙂
I’m so sorry to hear that you had to evacuate so soon after you flew back home. I hope that when you get home tomorrow that you will have power and that all will be alright with your home. Sending you many well wishes from across the country. Hope you get some time later this week to relish all that happened at Poetry Camp. Also, I hope we meet again someday.
Hey Cubby,
So glad the poetry camp worked out for you. When I read The Contenders, and saw the description of Thad ‘s fight as a coyote taking down a “slobbering Labrador,” I knew you had poetry in you, because “slobbering Labrador” is pure poetry: imagistic, accurate, onomatopoeic. I wonder how it will affect your prose writing, but that’s something that months and years can only answer.
Two theories why the poetry conference is different from other writing conferences:
a) Poetry lives and breeds on a more open and generous prairie of the brain. Poets benefit from grazing there.
b) Remember that screenwriting conference I went to, back in the illusory day? It was like being in a tank of sharks on the make: everyone was circling to pimp or be pimped (I was in the latter camp). On the other hand, there is zero chance of fame and fortune striking poets, and they know it. So they’re free.
Meanwhile, rock on!
I laughed out LOUD when I read that you consider “slobbering Labrador” to be pure poetry. You know how to get right to my heart, Edgy.
I think your theories are spot on. Love that phrase: “open and generous prairie of the brain.” Beautiful. And yes, I remember that screenwriting conference because I was THERE. If you remember, we had dinner at a Japanese restaurant after the whole thing was over. I think we were both grateful to be finished as we sipped our miso soup and gave silent thanks for living in Seattle and not in L.A. (no offense to all the Angelenos out there–I grew up in SoCal so I can say this).
Rockin’ on, my friend!
Oh yes, I remember L.A.–but do you recall that I went to that other screenwriting conference in Santa Fe? I don’t know where to begin with that one–maybe what goes on in Santa Fe should stay in Santa Fe. (For example, the student shark giving her room key to the famous screenwriter shark in front of us other student sharks.) I guess it was like junior high, where you discover undreamt of possibilities in the realm of embarrassment. But like junior high, sometimes it just takes one good friend to get you through, and at least I found one there.
I think our dinner, plus the Frank Gehry concert hall, was the best part of the L.A.conf for me–and agreed about Seattle vs. L.A. (I can also say that because I did my time in the belly of the mouse [Anaheim]).
Oh yeah, I remember you went to a screenwriting conference in Santa Fe, but I don’t remember THAT story. Why didn’t you tell me that story earlier??? Or did you and I just blocked it from memory?
WOW. Just WOW. That move is so L.A. that I wonder if that student shark was originally from So Cal waters? Man, I’m glad I didn’t see that. Sorry you did. Even though you are edgy, Edgy, I know witnessing that interaction probably stole a tiny bit of your soul as a newbie screenwriter.
ps. I’m glad we both escaped The Orange Curtain. And as always, I’m glad we’re friends.
I wouldn’t say it was exactly a soul-stealer–a word for what I felt might be “shamused”–a little shocked, and amused (with an inexplicable twist of shame). Anyway, I had an adventure in embarrassing myself as well, so who am I to judge. Nothing so spectacular, just cluelessness and chasing the wrong dream.
Apropos of this discussion, I had a literal dream during that time that gave me remarkably direct advice: a tall, powerful woman said, “Write your poems before you’re 50, or you’ll be disappointed.” Not what I wanted to hear; now I wish I had heeded it. So, my dear friend, I find it a bit heroic how you’re living your dream–with guts, fear, and strategy.
Thank you for always supporting my writing and my creativity, Edgy. You’ve been in my corner for the last 13 years (can you believe it’s been that long? Yes, we met in that fateful screenwriting class in fall 2003) and I so appreciate it. I hope you know that I’m always in your corner as well. I like to think of myself as Burgess Meredith to your Sly Stallone. Sometimes you need a good slap, punch, or growl every once in while; but please know that it’s always done with love. You wrote poems before age 50 and you’re writing poems after age 50. Keep going. That is the key. Never stop.
By the way, I’m going to try to be more shamused more often instead of just shocked or shameful. 😉
Thirteen years! Yes, it is hard to believe–but I suppose we’ve been going to Trek in the Park for about half that time. Thanks for believing in me at a point when we could have gone separate ways.
Shamusement is how I’m getting through this election. I’m continually shocked and amused by the things Donald Trump says; I suppose the twist of shame in this cocktail is when I think of other countries listening to the alcoholic squabbling emanating from our national double-wide.
In regards to your first comment, as Cornel West says, “We are all cracked vessels.” Let’s keep being cracked together, my friend.
In regards to your second comment, shamusement doesn’t BEGIN to capture how I feel about this election. But I can’t write what I really feel because I’m trying to keep this blog rated G or at least, PG-13.
Gosh, Peg–what an awesome post! I too delighted in WWU’s PoetryCHAT Poetry camp and Robyn’s Found Poetry workshop. In some ways I think the event was so incredibly friendly because there were tons of poet presenters participating right along with us. And although the focus was “here’s how to use poetry in the classroom,” the underlying energy was to celebrate poetry and the poets who write it and encourage more and more of the same.
You are a great role model for making people feel included. I’m so glad you felt reached out to this time as well. This is an important reminder that feeling shy and wanting to feel safe isn’t really fair to those outside our comfort zones.
Your post is getting me enthused all over again–thank you!
Thank you for your wonderful and positive thoughts, Mattie! I’m glad my post got you enthused all over again for the magic and wonder that was Poetry Camp. So glad we got to experience so much of it together. Robyn’s Found Poetry workshop really got us off on a good foot. As you said in your earlier email, it WAS a “hoot and a half.” SO MUCH FUN! Thanks too for your kind words. 🙂
Peg,
I loved the way you captured the Poetry camp experience. You had a complex entry into the day but so glad that you fully embraced and felt welcomed by all. I was so energized by the sessions, the lively participation and the wonderful interactions with authors/poets as both presenters and participants in sessions. It felt like an impromptu dance where we all were a critical piece.
Thanks,
Lona
Thank you, Lona! I’m so glad we met at Poetry Camp, and that you felt the same way about the day as I did. As you wrote so beautifully, it DID feel like we were all a critical part of the dance.
Great post about the conference. Your transparency, words, pictures, heck the whole deal was lovely to read.
Thanks so much, Charles! I really appreciate your kind words. 🙂