When I Confer

Conferring
   A verb.
   To talk, engage in discussion,
   To have a conversation,
         Writer-to-writer.
 
When I confer with writers I ask:
   “Who is this for?”
   “Why are you writing it?”
Because if the response is,
    “You” and “To get a grade”
    I know we need to have a deeper conversation.
 
Audiences should go beyond us teachers,
   And into the world,
   Where writers get response from readers,
       Who need/want/yearn to hear their thoughts.
Purposes should go beyond getting a grade,
   And into the world,
   Where writers establish their own reasons to write,
       Because they need/want/yearn to share their thoughts.
 
When I confer with writers I ask:
    “How can I help?”
    Because I want them to do the important work,
        Of recognizing what they need.
It’s a different conversation when I say, “This is my teaching point.”
     When I say those words, I drive the conversation,
     And take agency away from the writer.
          And my job is to empower, not enable.
 
When I confer with writers I ask:
    “What’s the one thing you’re trying to say with this piece?”
    Because a writer with a clear intention,
    Often has one important thing to say.
         And once the writer decides on that one thing,
         Revision becomes a clearer endeavor.
 
When I confer with writers I ask:
     “How are you doing?” 
     Because it’s my time to check in with them.
     To see them one-on-one.
     To make sure they are doing okay.
          To smile, laugh, comfort--
To listen. 
So, I can know the writer. 
 
When I confer,
    the blinds on the windows of my writers’ lives start to open
    and begin to reveal their inward selves.
And, if I take the time to listen,
    to seek understanding, rather than offer a rote, robotic response,    
    to ask, rather than declare,
    to be open, instead of asserting my agenda,
    
Then I’m hearing the writer.
And, to me, this is why conferring is essential.