I’ve written here before about running out of words for the past year or so. Not knowing what to write, and even wondering how much the world needs my voice, given all of the people who need to be heard, seen, understood.
That’s a thought that has been poking me as we start 2022’s Pride Month. At my day job, I had the opportunity to write about my university’s Lavender and Women and Gender Studies Graduation, which is an opportunity for the university’s LGBTQ+ community, allies, and the Women and Gender Studies program (which supports LGBTQ+ resources at our school) to celebrate as the the university prepares for commencement exercises. A chance for a group of people to rejoice in the loving community that they themselves fostered during their college years, a haven for when they might have felt marginalized or ignored by the larger university environment.
The article was a chance for me to talk with a number of the really incredible people who support the community at our university. They are people full of kindness, honor, and respect, and they helped me — I hope — to impart that same kindness, honor, and respect in the folks I wrote about.
And that right there is why I’m writing this today, nudged further along by the poke I got from the blog post of a terrific writer I admire, Melissa Ostrum, who wrote today about why she writes. What resonated with me was the discovery of “surprises, epiphanies, and keenly felt feelings” that came up when she put words to paper (or computer screen).
We’re living in interesting times, for sure, with bad news all around us, people in dire straits all around the world, and friends saying things in social media that oh, I didn’t like to know about them. What can one middle-age lady living in the country say that has a bearing on any of that?
I’m not sure, but I am over here doing the best I can, and I bet you are, too.