I did go to band camp but have no story like the last one, which made me laugh out loud. :-)
Quirky has happened for sure. But the story I came back to with this was the one that most reminded me of the first story and how an early impression of someone changed dramatically. In fact there are three stories that remind me of this, but I'll relay the most dramatic one.
I was excited to be part of a national writing conference that's held every summer and particularly excited to be studying with a renowned poet and professor of poetry. He is considered one of the foremost experts on the history and development of poetry, and he's widely published and known.
So imagine my sadness when he turned out he was a pompous ass who enjoyed tearing down every poem and poet in the workshop, which actually was filled with a select group of very talented individuals from across the country.
When he got to one of poems, he began to eviscerate it as had done the others, intermixing scathing commentary with long, irrelevant excursions into whatever tangential topic came to him. He used a lot of our paid workshop time to go down whatever road interested him, and he was clear disdainful and more than mildly irritated to have to read the work of 'lesser poets.'
He began to rift long and hard on a word I had chosen the wrong spelling and was sucking in a deep hit of air to continue the protracted upbraiding of the word, poem and poet, when I realized neither the relationship with this person as my mentor at that program or the workshop itself was salvageable to me. And then I did something no one else in the workshop had done.
In one sudden move, I took the flat of my hand and slapped it hard against the over-sized conference table, interrupting him. And then I said, "Can we just say that I misspelled that word and see if anything else from the poem can be discussed if that's now even possible?"
There was a profound silence in the room, and the tone of the workshop shifted from that point forward. The relationship with this person I revered was in fact severed, but what I gained was a different relationship with the poets with whom I studied, some of whom thanked me afterwards and shared something quite positive about my poetry - something they had been afraid to share in workshop.
Things change for sure, and some times some part of you shows up that you weren't even expecting to show up. And that's OK. And maybe it's even more than OK.
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