https://greatergood.berkeley.edu/article/item/five_science_backed_strategies_to_build_resilience
https://www.ted.com/talks/nigel_marsh_how_to_make_work_life_balance_work
https://www.ted.com/talks/nigel_marsh_how_to_make_work_life_balance_work
Cindy's story
When I first started teaching college writing, I taught night school where 12 of the 13 students in my first class were prior military. And I really felt for the civilian, because military people speak their own language, a fact that made it challenging for the civilian (and they were hard on the poor kid). Over the next few semesters, a few common denominators materialized. Most of my students were military or prior military, and most of them had issues stemming from their time in service.
In those first classes, I had a former helicopter crew chief who couldn’t sit through the 4.5 hour class, but rather had to stand in the back of the room because he’d had too many hard landings that had permanently damaged his spine. I had a prior first sergeant who had a long and exemplary career but couldn’t get passed thirty seconds of life in the desert. Another used cannabis to get through the class (and that’s a recurring theme). Two students had served on the USS Ronald Reagan when it went to support the efforts after Fukishima. Both have nonspecific and debilitating medical issues. I’ve seen TBI’s, service dogs, hearing loss, insomnia, PTSD, and I’ve had student writers who had no traumatic experiences and are/were frustrated that potential employers assume one picture of a military veteran. There is no one size fits all military veteran.
Like most of you, I was young when I joined the military, and I believed that nothing bad would or could happen to me. Within a year of joining, the girl who grew up on the south end of town had visited many of the US states and more countries than I can remember, and over the course of my time in the service, and then my time as a military spouse, I learned that I wasn’t as untouchable as I wanted to believe. As a result, I separated from the military community for several years.
I had forgotten the value of the military family, the thing many vets say they miss most once they separate.
That first year of teaching night school, I discovered a world of experiences that veterans wanted or needed to write about, and every semester, I get prior military students who tell me more in writing than they mean to share. Sometimes, it’s because they want someone to hear them. Mostly, writing is healing, and we spill more on the page then we do in real life.
The expressive writing workshops are a bit different than a traditional writing classroom. First, I'm not teaching you to write, I'm teaching you a way of writing that becomes part of your arsenal against the emotional baggage you carry. Second, no grades! You don’t have to share. I never have to see what you’ve written. No one has to or maybe should see what you’re writing. This is for you. If you’re concerned that your writing won’t be private, you can shred it, throw it, burn it, or put it into a safe place of your choosing, but make sure that your conscious and subconscious minds know that no one is going to read this and judge you, because…
Writing is cathartic.
Over the course of the expressive writing workshops we’ll discuss why and how, but mostly we’ll focus on doing. In this case, that means writing.
In those first classes, I had a former helicopter crew chief who couldn’t sit through the 4.5 hour class, but rather had to stand in the back of the room because he’d had too many hard landings that had permanently damaged his spine. I had a prior first sergeant who had a long and exemplary career but couldn’t get passed thirty seconds of life in the desert. Another used cannabis to get through the class (and that’s a recurring theme). Two students had served on the USS Ronald Reagan when it went to support the efforts after Fukishima. Both have nonspecific and debilitating medical issues. I’ve seen TBI’s, service dogs, hearing loss, insomnia, PTSD, and I’ve had student writers who had no traumatic experiences and are/were frustrated that potential employers assume one picture of a military veteran. There is no one size fits all military veteran.
Like most of you, I was young when I joined the military, and I believed that nothing bad would or could happen to me. Within a year of joining, the girl who grew up on the south end of town had visited many of the US states and more countries than I can remember, and over the course of my time in the service, and then my time as a military spouse, I learned that I wasn’t as untouchable as I wanted to believe. As a result, I separated from the military community for several years.
I had forgotten the value of the military family, the thing many vets say they miss most once they separate.
That first year of teaching night school, I discovered a world of experiences that veterans wanted or needed to write about, and every semester, I get prior military students who tell me more in writing than they mean to share. Sometimes, it’s because they want someone to hear them. Mostly, writing is healing, and we spill more on the page then we do in real life.
The expressive writing workshops are a bit different than a traditional writing classroom. First, I'm not teaching you to write, I'm teaching you a way of writing that becomes part of your arsenal against the emotional baggage you carry. Second, no grades! You don’t have to share. I never have to see what you’ve written. No one has to or maybe should see what you’re writing. This is for you. If you’re concerned that your writing won’t be private, you can shred it, throw it, burn it, or put it into a safe place of your choosing, but make sure that your conscious and subconscious minds know that no one is going to read this and judge you, because…
Writing is cathartic.
Over the course of the expressive writing workshops we’ll discuss why and how, but mostly we’ll focus on doing. In this case, that means writing.