Reading Response: Teaching Creative Writing If the Shoe Fits

As I began reading If the Shoe Fits, I noticed the author's intention to steer away from sounding too theoretical or full of academic jargon for fear of losing her audience--creative writing professors and students who feign theory. And I have to admit I have feigned theory since I can remember, especially when it has to do with creative writing. I have always felt that when you think too much about what you are writing and why it takes the beauty and ease that I so enjoy out of it. But tonight my attitude has changed--a little. ;) To Haake's defense, her method at easing away from theoretical jargon when talking about theory worked, and I kept reading. I believe it is to my benefit as well. I think she got me when she said that in order to arm students with the proper ammo to write creatively and have a chance at entering the domain they must know the theory behind writing in order to "teach it, learn it, know it and represent it." Theorists have power, which is why they make readers feel submissive—for the most part. So shouldn’t students have equal access to that power, especially if they are the future theorists of the field?

But let’s start from the beginning. Hakke states that teaching is about more than just the students learning about texts and how to read them. I wasn’t sure if I agreed with her at this point, but later when creative writing is discussed as the most under-theorized program under the English tract I realized she is right. How many times have I wandered around after a writing workshop and wondered what it was that I was doing exactly? This has happened to me many times in my creative writing career as an undergrad and graduate student. Her ideas have helped me piece a little bit of my wonders together.

Sometimes I feel that there is a lack of structure in creative writing classrooms and I think this is true because creative writing programs have not changed or evolved and have remained stagnant since their origins in the 30s. Thus, Hakke suggests that professors and students must constantly question what teaching creative writing means, and professors must give students a sense of knowing what they're doing when they are doing it. She recognizes the power that is withheld in theory and does not necessarily agree with how that power is implemented, but notes that students should be armed with the knowledge of this power in order to hold it within their own hands. Students have created their own means of publishing because the publishing world seems to be controlled by such an inaccessible powerhouse—because it is for the most part. But all of that power is guarded by theory, and if students are taught this theory...well, you get where I’m going. I’m surprised I haven’t articulated this before because it makes a lot of sense. In order for students to enter the writing domain and have a proper chance at success--not a blind shot in the dark—they can have that lustful mindset typical of most creative writers, allowing their words to carry them off into that hypnotic state, but they must also learn what they are doing during those moments.

In order to make the changes necessary in the creative writing field, we as innovative thinkers, students and professors must recognize that the mistrust between writers and theorists is the product of how writing is “defined, perceived, and constructed.” This goes back to Haake’s original point that in order for teachers to create the most successful learning environment for students, they must question what writing is, what it means for the students, and revisit and transform what teachers expect of their students and their work. Things have to change. No student benefits from hearing his or her professor tell them merely "how to make their stories better." Nor do they necessarily feel comfortable when their professors push them on a tract that expects them to enter either the publishing world or the teaching world if they are to be deemed "good" writers after their graduate studies. I personally have no desire to teach, and although I am open to that changing over time, have found it astounding to have professors assume that I would like to teach creative writing just because I enjoy the craft. Instead, professors should be thinking about new avenues for their students, and should try to not place them into such small categories just because that’s what we’ve been doing since the beginning. Professor should instead be questioning if their students struggle to understand their own writing, and what it means if they are. Haake suggests that students should be pushed into different directions, ones that lead them into uncharted territory for them as writers, to question “if they write the writing, or if the writing writes them.” And pushing students into new realms and arming them with the proper theoretical ammo will be a good start to broadening the teaching scope of creative writing, but I don’t think it will be the end. If creative writing has been taught similarly to how it was first implemented in the 1930s, how does this encourage professors who take no regard for the class, race, or gender of their students? The student’s desired tracks after graduation?

In my closing statements I would like to say that students would benefit from the power that comes with knowing the theory behind creative writing. Instead of scaring their students away with it, professors, theorists and students must clarify how creative writing is defined, the boundaries in which creative writing should be stretched must be defined, and professors must be open to the idea that the best way to teach creative writing to students may not have been fully refined yet. There is always room for improvement, and always room for change. This quote helped this chapter come together for me: “The difference between what we say and what we mean may constitute the only depth in us.”

Thank you and good night!