It took me literally two years to fully trust my creative writing professor, Kelly, and her husband, my lit professor, Dr. Moffett.Even after moving with them to a new city and college, one day trip in Cincinnati and occasional lunch, I was still guarded.
Kelly told me early on freshman year that if I wanted to learn anything, I had to develop trust. I would sit in World Lit shivering, glaring, avoiding her because she could see things. She was sensitive, well at reading peoples emotions, as all writers are. "Love yourself. Poets like to self destruct. I'd hate to see that happen to you."
Sophomore year, I would see one or the other every single day, and on Mondays, three times for class from 10-9, the last class both of them teaching. I was very cold and rude when pushed too far out of my comfort zone in my intro to creative writing and digital poetics on Monday nights. I snapped one day, told Kelly I hated her, wadded up the poem I was working on and threw it in the trash. She told me to get it out. I refused and left the room.
I avoided them as much as I could which was hard, since I had them for everything. I kept getting sicker and more with drawn, my work stopped. They would watch me in class when I couldn't focus, Kelly would call out to me from her office and ask if I wanted some tea, or a granola bar."You have to learn to trust us, Kristin."
I later realized that they weren't going to go anywhere. They were going to keep pushing me in a good way because they really cared, not just about my work but my health and safety.
And I'm incredibly thankful for everything they have done for me over the last four years. Mainly for putting up with my bullshit sophomore year. I was angry that they cared, and I apologized to them right before they asked me to move to keep working with them.
They really got to know me those first two years. The good and the bad, stable to unstable.
But now I have these two new professors who I have to learn to trust?
It makes my heart pound and stomach drop because they don't knowanything.
The students don't know anything either. The classes I had with the Moffett's literally all of us had classes together because the department was so small, and there were only a handfull of writers.
I guess I'm just going to take this new process of professors one step at a time, and try not to be so guarded and be open to the possibilities of what they have to teach me even if I'm scared shitless of the prompts I'm going to get.
I don't want this professor to know me.
