On leading a writing workshop for seniors…as a senior myself.

“Can everyone talk louder,” shouted my student. “I forgot my hearing aide.”

I’m teaching a memoir writing class at a senior center in Greenwich Village. My students range in age from 63 to 93. At 75 I’m in the mid-range.

I’ve made many adjustments from when I taught Personal Essay Writing in the continuing education program at NYU, but I use some of the same assignments.  Write about: “A memorable experience from your early life” or “Something that turned out differently than expected” or “My obsession with…”

And I created new assignments based upon input from the class. Write about: “A song that really gets to me” or “Whatever happened to…?” Turns out a student went online and looked up old flames and old friends during the lockdown.

Students work on a monthly assignment that requires several typed pages. I edit their work at home, make suggestions and ask for a revised draft. A few students struggle with the computer skills needed to create documents and print out typed pages. (A must if they want personal editing from me.) Computer assistance is available for those who want to get help. I empathized with the woman who said her arthritis made it difficult to type. She’s a good writer with a great eye for detail.

I also give out a weekly writing prompt to be used for free-writing in their notebooks. Students enjoy reading that short work back in class. Everyone loved the prompts: “Write about something you can’t throw away.” And,“Something that keeps me up at night.” I often do this work at home myself, and share my free-writing with them when I see them next.

This is my second go-round teaching this class. I started in January 2023, broke for the summer, resumed last fall, and continued through this spring. The first time, two students were successful in publishing two pieces each. Those two were easily the most prolific writers in the class, and they knew how to implement my suggestions for revision.

One student, an artist in her 80s, described living in the meatpacking district before it was the gentrified version of today. Another student, a vocalist and singing teacher in her 70s, wrote about her neighbor taking her to court for playing her piano in her apartment. (The judge, a former musician, was sympathetic. She won the case.)

I was impressed that the first class produced four publishable pieces. This inspired the others, and it made me look good with the director of the center.

Many students don’t care about publishing, but they are all interested in writing, even if it means scribbling longhand in notebooks. The students have also become interested in the genre of memoir, reading books I recommend, and checking out aging-related websites I suggest, such as Oldster and Next Avenue.

There is one challenge in teaching emerging memoir writers: I keep being reminded that some students are not used to getting their work critiqued. I startled one lovely woman when I noted that her first paragraph was boring, but I quickly recovered and made it into a lesson about how we often have a lede (that’s journalism speak for “lead paragraph) that can be cut. I explained how the unnecessary first paragraph is often a form of throat clearing.  I’ve been in an intense critique group for over twenty-five, years so a comment like that would be insignificant to me. I’d shrug it off. But it’s not as easy for newbies.

I’ve been doing personal writing for so long, that I need to remember how brave it is for someone in their 70s or 80s or 90s to take a memoir writing class. I make a point of telling the class that this kind of writing requires courage.

A couple, who met and fell in love in their 70s, shared their beautiful love story. I asked for more specific juicy details, which they delivered in the rewrites. When they returned from a trip announcing they had tied the knot, the class applauded and cheered. We were so happy for them, and it gave me hope.

Two students thanked me for opening up a new world for them. A man in his 80s, who came to the class “blocked,” wrote a strong first draft about seeing Frank Sinatra at the Capitol Theatre with his parents when he was 8 years old.  Another student said she also saw Sinatra at that same theatre, and recalled girls standing on their chairs screaming. (It reminded me of Beatles mania.)

A woman in her 60s wrote about her obsession with following the band Wilco; she even flew to Iceland to see them. She shared this interest with her husband, a blues guitarist, and they took road trips to see the band.  Since I was not that familiar with the band, I started listening and liked their sound. A woman in her 70s detailed her love for the Rolling Stones, analyzing her favorite song, “Sympathy for the Devil.”

A woman in her 90s wrote about her friendship with Luciano Pavarotti. (Her late husband was his lawyer) and their shared love of food and cooking. She brought in an amazing homemade sweet to illustrate her story.

A recent widow described rebuilding her life with the help of friends and neighbors, after a fire destroyed her apartment and took her husband’s life. Another widow used her free-writing to process her grief over her husband’s death. A student in her 80s memorialized her first love, killed in a car crash when he was 21. She never threw out his love letters.

I feel honored my senior students share intimate stories with me and the
rest of the class. I have worked hard to create a space where everyone feels safe. I occasionally share my published work to illustrate specific writing tips I’ve offered.

I look forward to the weekly session and meeting my fifteen students. And I’ve come to realize that showing up for class is not just about writing and self-expression. It’s a reason to leave the apartment — a chance to socialize, an antidote to loneliness and depression. Many students stick around for the inexpensive hot lunch, and when I have the time, I join them.

Once class starts and I close the door, though, I get serious. I address the same issues as I did when I taught creative writing at NYU: have a good lede, be organized, be specific. Create an interesting narrator who is trying to discover something, or figure something out.  Provide conflict and tension. Find the container for your story, a specific lens through which to tell it. Cut unnecessary words and avoid repetition. Get rid of (some of) those adverbs.

While I point out that writing is hard work, I also emphasize this class should be fun. I tell them, “We are too old to be doing stuff that’s not fun.”

And that includes me, teaching this class. I’m having fun. I missed teaching after I retired. I’m remunerated with a stipend, much less than when I taught at NYU.

But it’s rewarding to help older writers find their voices and get their words on the page. They have a lifetime of stories to share, and I have a lifetime of  teaching and publishing experience to help them become better writers.