Hello everyone. My name is Sami Schalk. Some of you might have seen me around at public readings or in conjunction with the Young Women's Program. I'm joining the blog as a satellite member of Women Writing. While I am originally from the Cincinnati area, I am currently living in South Bend, IN for school. Recently, I was honored to speak at a WWfaC fundraiser called Giving Voice. The following is the talk I gave there which tells my story of coming to Women Writing. This first post will hopefully let you know where I'm coming from and in the future I hope to write more about continuing Women Writing's work in South Bend as well as my experiences teaching this summer back at the writing hall and finishing my MFA this year. I hope this post finds everyone well. Love -Sami
Giving Voice Talk:
I first came to Women Writing for (a) Change at age thirteen. The community I found here embraced me and my writing in a way I had never experienced before. I was surrounded by women and girls who listened, spoke honestly about the same issues I was dealing with and inspired me to speak my own truths. Through Women Writing I had the opportunity to read my poetry aloud both in a public readaround and on the radio. As a result, I began to consider myself a real writer. This is a poem I wrote in that first class.
The Mirror
In the mirror I see eyes-
Dark, brown eyes,
The color of the earth,
Overflowing with innocence,
And shielded by oval shaped glasses.
In the mirror I see hands-
Soft, brown hands,
Bronzed by the summer sun,
So willing to please,
But afraid to try.
In the mirror I see lips-
Rich, full lips,
Colored in a dark red hue,
Perfectly able to talk,
With no confidence to speak their mind.
In the mirror I see hair-
Thick, black hair,
The color of midnight,
Cut and styled like the rest,
Too timid to be different.
In the mirror I see beauty,
Deep inner beauty-
Filled with self esteem and bravery,
Originality and strength,
Fighting to get to the surface.
Throughout high school I continued to take classes at Women Writing as well as be a teen assistant for the girls’ classes. Then it came time to leave for college and my transition to Miami University turned out to be detrimental to my writing and my sense of self. As a Creative Writing major in the Honors Program, I was being challenged, but not supported. I didn’t have the community or the self-care skills I needed to adapt and by my sophomore year I was ready to give up.
Two things saved me. First, I discovered the Women’s Studies program and began to learn a language of feminism. Second, I applied to Miami’s Urban Internship program. While many people applied to the program and then searched for an internship, the only place I wanted to work was Women Writing for (a) Change. As a result of my Women’s Studies classes, I realized that Women Writing had given me my first taste of feminism. I wanted to go back to rediscover the girl I was there and hopefully find the woman I wanted to be.
That summer working as Jenn Reid’s intern was truly a life changing experience. I confronted many of my issues and found a new positive and hopeful energy. I found a way to incorporate my two loves (feminism and poetry) into something that could potentially one day be a real job. Still two years from graduation, I knew somehow, someway, I had to be a part of Women Writing permanently. For the rest of my time at Miami I worked as a facilitator of summer and semester classes, as well as the assistant facilitator of the Young Feminist Leadership Academy. These experiences were some of the best parts of my college career and definitely contributed to my growth as a feminist-activist-poet.
Today, I am 22 and still a part of the WWfaC community. I am currently working on my Master of Fine Arts degree in Poetry at Notre Dame and lead my own circles in South Bend at the Center for the Homeless, the Juvenile Correctional Facility and St. Margaret’s House (a day center for women and children in poverty). Recently, I was awarded the Africana Studies Book Award for Community Spirit and Service in recognition for this work, work which is only made possible through the support, training and encouragement I have received and continue to receive from everyone at Women Writing for (a) Change. I’d like to close with one of my more recent poems…
It isn’t the Monsters that Scare Me
Throughout the street Barbie-bodied babies
of the ‘tween Disney movement wear
Hannah Montana wigs and Cinderella slippers.
I ask one what she is, as I put the candy in her bag—
candy she won’t eat on her middle school diet,
a twelve year old top model who fears the fat of
pubescent hips and breasts—she tells me she is
Britney or Beyonce or some other twenty-something
celebrity mindless marketing the
‘less is more’ brand upon her very flesh.
I cringe to hear the girlish giggles chasing boys
down the street, through darkening alleys,
trick-or-treating hours fading into their 9 o’clock bedtimes.
This is the truly terrifying, when five year old cousin,
who once swore she was a rockstar and loved
blocks and balls as much as dolls, tells me
for Halloween she wants to be a pretty pink princess
and asks if I’ll let her wear my lipstick because
her mother drew the line at the pre-schooler’s
halter top dress and baby-sized heels sold
for $10.99 at Wal-Mart, the last on the shelf.
Thank you all for taking the time to be here today and listen to my story of how WWfaC has affected my life. Mine is just one of many and I am honored to represent the hundreds of women and girls, as well as the growing number of men and boys, who have been given the space to tell the truth of their lives. I’d be happy to talk to anyone further at the end of the event today and I will have a copy of the writing coming from the circles I facilitate in South Bend if you’d like to take a look. Thanks again.
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