Word by word
Anne Lamott, a peerless inspirer of good writing, tells the story of her brother, age 10, agonizing over his science report on birds. 鈥淗e鈥檇 had three months to write [it]. It was due the next day,鈥� she explains. 鈥淗e was at the kitchen table close to tears, surrounded by binder paper and pencils and unopened books on birds, immobilized by the hugeness of the task ahead. Then my father sat down beside him, put his arm around my brother鈥檚 shoulder, and said, 鈥楤ird by bird, buddy. Just take it bird by bird.鈥� 鈥�
We鈥檝e all been there, whether as the report writer, the parent, or the teacher trying to coach and coax the project to completion. I remember my own daughter struggling with just such a report, an English assignment requiring her to go beyond a synopsis of the plot of 鈥淎pril Morning,鈥� to delve deeper than a mere summary of the characters and their actions. She had to step outside her reading and writing comfort zone.
A seventh-grader, Hilary was in a typical, bumpy transit from her competent, concrete summaries of the text to the subtextual observations her teacher was training the class to do. The time had come in her growth as a reader and writer to explore the abstract sense of things, the figures in language, the author鈥檚 intention.聽
It was a painful struggle. It seemed to her to be unfair: Words could be about something other than what they say? Go figure!
鈥淚 can鈥檛 interpret what happens,鈥� she moaned as I attempted the role of Mr. Lamott. 鈥淚t just happens. There鈥檚 no interpretation. It鈥檚 about what it鈥檚 about. That鈥檚 all there is to it!鈥澛�
Which bird would come to my rescue?聽
The parallel scene in my own schooling was also seventh grade, working long and hard one night to make my customary book report poster by pasting a collage of magazine photos on poster board. Summarize the plot, illustrate the trials and tribulations of the characters in 鈥淭he Outsiders,鈥� add a few photos clipped from the newspaper 鈥撀� 颅惫辞颈濒脿! Done. My goose, however, was cooked that year.
When Mr. Katz returned my dutiful work, his comment insisted that I interpret the story, think about 鈥渢he why鈥� of the story; think about the writer鈥檚 motivation in telling the story. Apparently, the story meant something other than what it said. The writer had been saying one thing and meaning another. It was about more than what it was about. Not fair! Go figure.
But what a thrill I felt in the subsequent moments of revelation, when the 鈥渋nner meanings鈥� became clear to me, and I left behind the illustrated book report (with fancy cover, huge titles, and fabulous collage) forever. A writer actually has control over this stuff? A writer isn鈥檛 just recording the way it happened? The story is something imagined! I took a giant leap toward critical examination of the craft of assembling words in a particular order for a particular reason.
From that point on, assignment by assignment, bird by bird, my writing took wing.聽
We鈥檙e all accustomed, of course, to a world that is carelessly worded. It鈥檚 not just a seventh-grade rite of passage. 鈥淚t鈥檚 about...鈥� is a constant refrain, as if meaning were something obvious, declarative, visible, agreed upon, and simple. And what Hilary was encountering that evening 鈥� as we all do, at some point 鈥� is the opening of the mind鈥檚 eye to the 鈥渕ore鈥� that鈥檚 there. I don鈥檛 think even she thought it was just 鈥渁bout鈥� a book report in seventh grade. The transition takes time, timing, and patience, like anything learned.聽
Today, Hilary has students of her own, taking it bird by bird, one word in front of another, until they, too, soar as young writers.
I鈥檝e wondered what Mr. Katz鈥檚 progress reports said about me: 鈥淚n Language Arts, Todd is taking it 鈥榖ird by bird鈥� and making some progress in verbal expression.鈥� Those reports probably are still filed away somewhere in my mother鈥檚 archive, and still classified Top Secret. Parent-teacher conferences, I imagine, went like this: 鈥淣ow, about his handwriting....鈥� How do you take cursive bird by bird? My chicken scratch has not changed much, but may never come home to roost.
