Have Words Will Travel

Today’s a big day — I will be officially graduating and becoming a Master of Fine Arts.  I feel a little like when someone asks you on your birthday “How does it feel to be ___ ?”  It doesn’t feel any different.  I mean, I feel much differently than I did when I first started this program and needed so much guidance and teaching, but I don’t feel any different than I did yesterday, and I doubt there will be any difference tomorrow, either.  Well, maybe a little relief.  And sadness.

Our commencement speaker is Marvin Bell, which is terrific.  He’s been teaching during the afternoon sessions during the residency (as he has every summer residency since I’ve been around) and he’s so funny and very kind and smart.  Also, I’ve made a complete ass out of myself in front of him twice now, at previous residencies when forced to read the humiliatingly painful results of a writing exercise, but yesterday I vindicated myself by writing a decent poem from this year’s exercise and reading it.  A nice way to end the teacher/student relationship.  The first time it happened, though, he very kindly sent me an email that said, “I don’t think of them so much as bad poems as poems that are on their way to something.  Besides, you should see some of the crap I’ve written.”  I will admit, I printed that one out and it lives on the bulletin board above my desk.  More encouraging words were never spoken (or written), I don’t think.