A Guest Post Created by Tina Cooper with an intro from Kelly Hatley
I love September as it brings new learners, books, and fresh ideas for Autumnal projects. I get a little over excited when I enter a classroom of new students that first time mixed with similar fears that they might hold. Who are the new characters? How will they judge me? What will they need? Can I provide it?
Back in September 2020 I taught my first Creative Writing cohort at Stevenage College, having taught other disciplines for them since 2004. My new venture had been delayed several times already as we were in the height of covid. For the first time I wasn’t excited, simply afraid. I was actually sick in the toilet before that first class but managed to put my game face on, albeit behind a perspex mask. I needn’t have been worried. The learners were brilliant, engaging and patient. That first group and I grew together as I adjusted the course I had compiled and set out to do them all proud. I think it worked as three years and several cohorts later, I am still in touch with each of those original 11 learners and they have all been published in different forms and continue to create.
Tina was one of them and unbeknownst to me she wrote a Facebook post that first night which she shared with me recently. I immediately felt it would be wonderful to share here, for other new learners or anyone embarking on new things. Enough about me, here’s Tina Cooper’s voice from September 2020…
College. Eeek!
So, last night, get comfy, it will be worth it I promise.
I’m old, according to my ancient NI card and the receptionist at North Herts College.
“Ooh, that’s an old one!”
I had a feeling that I was getting on because things creak a bit now and there are parts that ache but still, that was a harsh reality to embrace when already having a small but perfectly formed panic attack.
Thankfully the teacher was far friendlier and happily introduced herself. We, the shiny new students, formed an orderly queue and followed her around the amazing college building to our tiny boring classroom. It felt epic, I was in the right place.
This feeling lasted about 20 minutes and was nice throughout but then we started to find out things about our fellow students.
One has had a body of work published, poetry no less. Oh bugger. Another has written and sold a film, production should start early 2021. Double bugger. Then, because that wasn’t enough, another has written comedy and has won a few things. For the love of biscuits! There were two students left. I held my breath. I was convinced one was already a writer for the BBC and the other was about to cure cancer but, hoorah, neither had written a thing. Phew! I felt the urge to drop into conversation the article I wrote for a magazine but stopped myself because it was rubbish. Still baffles me the amount of money I was paid for that, 50p a word. If only I could be paid that amount for every word I said, 50 pence pieces would rain down from the heavens. I’d be dead within the hour.
Right, writing prompt one, a get to know you exercise. Describe yourself in senses, something you like to smell, taste and so on. This I could do, I rattled it out.
Tia Maria
Bournville
Books
My kids laughing
Water
Easy peasy lemon squeezy.
Then we had to think of a character and describe them in senses.
Seaside
Toffee ice cream
Sand
Waves crashing
Miles of ocean
Got it. Popped pen down with a satisfied plop.
Now we had to partner up and give each other’s character a scenario. My character was a 12/13 year old girl, I’ve no idea why but she was the first thing to pop into my empty head. My partner decided, as it had once happened to her, that my character would get her weeks mixed up at school and take all the wrong books to her lessons. Plus my partner didn’t want anything horrific to happen to a child. Fair point.
Yup. Got it. One embarrassed 12 year old coming up. I was on a roll.
Then we had to rummage in our pockets for something to give our character as a gift and write their inner monologue of how they felt upon receiving the gift. I had a tub of Vaseline. Well, I’m sure you can imagine how thrilled my 12 year old girl was with her Vaseline. Still, the disappointed thoughts of a young girl were still easy to put onto paper even if they were a tad dull.
We then had to partner up again, I’m now with the film maker. Marvellous. We had to give each other’s character an event to attend and our homework this week is to write about said event. My partner struggled to be honest, where do 12 year old girls go? Eventually he plumped for a party hosted by her crush but, to follow the unorganised tween theme, she gets her dates mixed up. Gripping. What will she do? Who cares? I sure as hell don’t.
As we were leaving I asked teacher if I could change my character. I hadn’t realised that the kid was going to be a keeper and she’s really boring.
“No, that’s when you should keep your character. What was her event?”
I told her, she looked disappointed but still thought I should keep my tween.
“You could think about why she misses her party”
“Plane crash” said a helpful voice from behind me.
“No, apparently she just mixes her dates up and misses a snog from the girl she fancies. Oh not girl, sorry, boy. Ooooh, perhaps her crush is a girl!?”
“There you go,” said teacher.
Teacher also told us to write about what we know.
So, this soon to be 50 year old heterosexual has managed to saddle herself with a 12 year old lesbian for the next 9 weeks. I am not 12 nor can I remember 12. Also I’ve been a lesbian for approximately 4 seconds and was drunk for all 4 of them.
But it gets better.
My homework this week is to write about a tween missing a kiss from her crush and it’s to be………. wait for it………. a poem!
A POEM!
