UIWP Final Reflection

The UIWP.  I don’t really know how to begin expressing my feelings for this life-changing experience.  I just finished the writing marathon and figured, what better time to reflect on the institute.  In a way, the writing marathon mirrors my feelings throughout the entire program, and so, I will simply reflect upon the writing marathon, and thus consequently reflect on the past three weeks at the UIWP.

I began excited, but a little hesitant.  “I’m not a writer,” I thought. “How am I going to write for so long?  How am I going to live up to the words of my peers?”  But, despite my doubts, the journey began.  My writing group stopped first at the Newman House.  I picked a large chair and began my most common and comfortable form of writing, stream of consciousness.  I wrote about love and the myths that follow it.  I shared.  My group commented favorably on my words.  Now, I had a little more confidence in myself.  Just maybe, I could make it through our next three stops.

We wandered through campus and stopped at Espresso Royal for caffeine and snacks.  I chose to sit outside and let nature inspire my ideas.  It didn’t.  Instead, I was fueled by my inner struggle at Espresso and formed a poem about the identities and self-doubt I juggle every day.  This time, I was excited to share.  I eagerly opened up my journal and thus myself, letting my group see the true me.  With two stops down and two to go, I knew I could make it through the process.

Stop number three was the Firehouse Grill.  We sat outside on rickety patio furniture, once again letting the writer seep out.  Although my confidence was now higher after sharing my poem, in order not to disappoint myself, I subconsciously set my expectations low.  I reverted back to my comfort zone, my reflective writing.  Only this time, the topic was fitness – my fondness, hatred, and obsession with it – mainly why I let it drive me like it does.  Again, I shared with my group.  Like an onion, I slowly, and with a little prodding, shed another layer of myself. One more stop.  There was no turning back now.

Our final location was the basement atrium in the English building.  Nestled at an old, dingy table, I chose to focus on the ever rotating men in my life.  Knowing this was a very personal level, I took a deep breath and shared it with my new confidants, letting another layer of myself show.

We returned to the Undergrad library to debrief and share as an entire group.  Thankfully, my small group had given me the confidence and assuredness to share with the class.  Now, I knew I could share this side of me with others, teachers and students alike.  And, more importantly, I knew I was a writer.

Thank you to the UIWP leaders and participants for helping me to shed the layers of myself and let the true me, the juggler, and yes, the writer, shine through.