Finding Your Freedom: Identity and Writing
She answered the door in sweats, the hoodie sporting the name of a well-known selective Chicago high school. Before I could speak, she said: “I’m a swimmer. I swim all the time. I don’t want to write about swimming but that’s who I am.”
As a writing coach who has a large clientele of clients writing personal statements I am used to this sort of despair and blinkered thinking. Yes, swimming was fine, her rank as a swimmer would be a good thing to include on her application but it was not exactly a great story starter. Good stories need conflict and swimming is a one-person, silent sport, the conflict barely exists and when it does it’s usually something like man versus nature (girl versus nature) with a need for strong currents, crashing waves, possibly a shark, not a high school student stroking in a chlorinated pool, little at stake besides a personal best.
“Okay,” I said. “What else?”
“I don’t like my friend group.”
“Because?”
“They’re mean.”
We sat down. “What did you do before swimming?”
“I went to the planetarium with my father.”
“Did that make you happy?”
She wanted to be an astronomer, she wanted to spend more time with kinder people and to try and be happy the way she once was in and out of the pool. Here we found a theme or a thread, a connection, the joy of solitude, the need for company, the limitless sky, the boredom, and the triumph of moving through water. She had an identity that was constantly transforming but at its core there was discipline and the love of testing herself and those around her yet also a sense of wonder and gratitude for these times she spent alone with her father in the dark under a dome of stars. Swimming was part of this narrative, but it was a mere ingredient.
Identity must be part of developing an authentic voice and a focused message to the reader. Even if the writer’s intent is to be objective, to provide data or historical fact the writing will be enhanced by this clarity and the process simplified. We trust speakers who present themselves in an authentic way even if their content has little interest to the listener, we pay attention. This aspect can be called authority but there needs to be a dialogue, a feeling between the reader and the writer of ease and exploration despite the writer’s control. No one likes being told stuff, told what to do, feel or think. But sharing ideas, having enough self-confidence to be vulnerable while guiding the reader starts a powerful conversation guaranteed to be persuasive.
photo by Jeremy Thomas
How do we locate our elusive identities especially now when jobs have been lost, schools closed, friendships postponed, rituals cancelled? Go the the core of who you are despite the weather, the hardships of daily life, the disappointments, and the fear of the unknown. Remember how it felt to walk barefoot in the spring, to eat corn on the cob with your brother or sister, to hit that baseball, to be inspired by music, a movie, a book, or an essay. When did you last feel proud, ashamed, or serene? Remember your last delicious meal, the swoosh of that basket, the smell of winter. Take abstractions and make them concrete. Use details your reader can see, touch, hear, smell. Make lists of things you love and things you hate, things that scare you, things that fascinate, bore, or soothe you. Buried in all these details is an identity, your identity, the core of self that will develop and transform. Be patient. My client talked about the stars in the planetarium but then she said, “I loved that feeling of being alone with other people.”
—Molly Moynahan, author and writing coach