Finding Your Voice

Teens and Writing

The reason I provide students with lots of opportunities to write really has nothing with the mechanics of writing and everything to do with helping them find their voice. Over the years, I have had some goosebump moments from reading the honest writings of adolescents. Reading their writing sometimes gives me such pride in knowing them and infinite hope for their future. Sometimes I realize how lucky and loved they are. Sometimes I realize just how much adversity they have had in their young lives, and I hope in their future they do find out how loved they are.

I don’t know if my generation as students were very often encouraged to find our voice in writing. It seemed more about answering the questions in ways our teachers wanted us to and making sure we didn’t leave any modifiers our there dangling for all the world to see. I remember writing a paper on suicide because I had read the life story of Sylvia Plath and it was the most honest and incredibly desperate piece of text I had ever read. I borrowed Sylvia’s voice for a bit on behalf of the depressed friends I knew, hoping to try to understand their feelings. I didn’t really know my own voice though.

The history with my own voice is a bit strained, yes, in the literal meaning of the word. I remember being part of a group of educational consultants and we were drafting a mission statement. Someone in the group asked if we had, as individuals, written a personal mission statement. I had never considered that I could. Up to then, life had mostly happened to me. College, marriage, kids, and career as if I were following the master plan for nice girls in the 1980s. Later on, I was in a difficult partnership where I literally lost the ability to speak audibly until I made the decision to leave the relationship. I was so fraught with anxiety and tension that my airways constricted. Thankfully, I have slowly learned that I have a voice. It needs encouragement at times, but it’s there.

When it comes to my students, I don’t want them to have to wait so long to find their voice. I want them to become well acquainted with it before life just happens to them. One of the best resources I have found is “The Honest Poem” by Rudy Francisco. It’s a spoken poem available on YouTube. I played it for my students and there were a few embarrassed laughs when it got too, well, honest. One young man was mesmerized and when it was done, he said, “Bruh, that dude laid it out there. He held NOTHING back.” “You’re exactly right,” I said. “He’s found his voice and I think it’s important for you all to know your voices can be heard.”

Facing History and Ourselves is a great website (www.facinghistory.org) with a template for writing the poem. My students got to work and the products were really meaningful. During the revising process, I had to ask some questions to get them to express what they really felt. They went there with me, which was such a rich honor.

Here are a few lines from the poems, with changes to anything that might be identifiable to protect their confidence.

“I often talk when I should be listening. I often joke when I should be serious.”

“I wonder if I will ever get a job. I assume that it’s because my family wants me to be successful.”

“I know that I am Catholic. I also know that sometimes church makes me want to fall asleep even though my mom says I shouldn’t because it’s the Lord’s house.”

“I’m often told that if I help others, they will help me back.”

“People say I should take a chill pill.” (That made me smile)

“ I love being one of my family.”

“I have an odd fascination with history.”

“I want my mom to feel I “got it done” and went to college.”

“I know I want to stay away from the gang life.”

“I don’t know if I am doing everything right, but I do know that I am doing my best.”

There were many more expressions of their young voices. When they read them aloud to each other, they were respectful and asked each other some compelling questions. I felt I had a front seat to an honest conversation among peers who can at times try to shut out TikTok and the voices of media and figure out themselves.

This memory. I want to hold it all.