Shirley and Talat are back in my office, clicking away on their laptops, processing their thoughts in written English. I love this sound. I love the feeling this evokes in me, the communal effort toward individual creations. We all write what we want, how we want. We write what’s on our minds, what’s lingering in our periphery, what we left out in the hallway. As we write, as we tickle our keyboards or pause to consider what comes next, we almost imperceptibly lose awareness of the chatter that came in with us. We start to notice that what we first thought we wanted to write doesn’t seem so significant now that words are pouring onto the screen. “I’m writing now about my writing,” remarks Talat, smiling at the shift from his intended topic, a comparison of freshman year to sophomore year.
Writing about our writing, we begin to see how far we’ve come. Talat finds joy in writing this year, a new and unexpected sensation. Shirley explores her study abroad experience through a taxing cultural encounter with American education. I have over 40 blog posts to consider as a legacy for this group, and a great imagination for what is yet to come. When the clicking around me slows down and the brows furrow with concentration, I am reminded that I am, in fact, writing in community and that this community is perhaps one of my favorite creations.