For reasons unknown, the writing class I am taking at the local college has shrunk from the six students who signed up to two of us who regularly make an appearance. It’s an observation, not a complaint. It makes for a wide-ranging, free form class that has become very engaging.
This week’s homework is to ask two friends to write a short paragraph about who you are. One friend/sibling that has known you since you were young and someone who has only known you as an adult.
The stories my sister could tell you….but now is not the time.
Any of these three knew quite a bit about that girl in the pig-tails.
I know exactly two people who can tell you anything truly relevant about the heart of this woman.
The exercise is to give the writings to the teacher and see if he can guess who (I suppose which is better used in the case of only two students) the writing is about. You see, it came to light last week that I feel and am more myself now than I ever have been in my life, and think people who knew me before would be righteously scandalized. I care less about other’s opinions of myself than at any other point in my life. While the other student (who moved here a year before me, also from Pittsburgh) works hard every day to appear like she belongs with the people who live here. She takes steps to make herself disappear into the population here.
I’m going to ask a friend I grew up across the street from to write a quick description. He lives and works in NYC and we’ve only seen each other once or twice since high school. I’m going to ask a former co-worker to write the other one. She knows things about me, no one should probably know….
I’m curious, I admit it.
If I wanted to know one thing about you that only a sibling or your best friend would know, what would that be?