Outsider-ism and Belonging

I've been a facilitator for a writing group for over ten years.  There are a good number of our group who have been coming for much of that ten years. A few have done some great writing and managed to at least self-publish some respectable books. Many have the same occasional but continued commitment to writing that I do.  We are not out to set the world on fire with our writing.  We enjoy the act of writing and we want to make what we write better. It's not that we don't dream about great publishing pursuits and successes but there may be others besides myself who could lay claim to the title of "the Walter Mitty of the Writing World".

And then there are the new people.  Those who arrive on meeting night looking for an answer to the isolation and inferiority we all feel when we confront the blank page.  Or when we continue to fail at finding the time for our pursuits.  Will this group help us get to where we want to be?  Can I bring something useful to this group?  Am I good enough, smart enough, and gosh darn it, will people like me?  (Also, as extension, is my writing good enough, smart enough, and gosh darn it, will people like it?)

The tables were turned this week.  I found myself the odd outsider.  The one who had a vision for something that was too big to accomplish on my own.  And then the one who wanted to join in, find a creative voice, add to the bigger picture that someone else had envisioned.  I became a member of the 2012 XPT group simply by applying and showing up.  But becoming a working, contributing member will take a little more effort.  What can I do?


XPT is Experimental Puppetry Theater at the Center for Puppetry Arts in Atlanta.  It's a 45 minute ride into town.  It's a commitment.  I've got a stressful full-time job and a grandbaby on the way in another country and a mother downsizing to an apartment.  I've got a writers group to attend to.


I primarily applied to XPT as a project director.  An effort to turn an idea into a full-fledged puppetry production or short film.  But for reasons not yet fully understood, my project was passed up in favor of others.  I'm okay with that.  Really, I am.  But I told myself from the get go that if I couldn't be a project director, I at least wanted to be involved in helping others get their projects underway.  I like the feeling of community and camaraderie and group efforts in making something really interesting and artistic and awesome.  I want to be a part of it.  A helper.  But again, what can I do?  How do I break in?

I'd asked at the interview what the predominant demographic was of the folks who participated in XPT in the past.  I was fishing for whether or not there'd be a lot of seasoned -- ahem, well-seasoned, as in salt and peppered hair -- people in the ranks.  I got the idea that this was basically a younger "man's" game.  But I wasn't particularly discouraged from joining.  But the fit...

So, yes, I showed up at the XPT kickoff night where the project directors explain their concepts and people who were looking to help introduced themselves.  How might I have introduced myself, had I not chosen to sit in the front row and been called on first?  After having heard a number of people later admit to being total newbies, might I have been more comfortable? Might I have been able to "sell" my "mad skills" somehow?  As it was, I may have come off as a bit meek and goofy.  Is it really possible to be both meek and goofy at the same time?  (Goofy takes at least a smidgen of boldness, right?)


And what was this blog, written a couple of weeks ago, trying to say?  Something about feeling out of place.  Something about making others feel welcome. Something about wanting to contribute and not quite knowing how.  And probably something about confidence and lack of it.  I didn't post it then. It wasn't finished.  It isn't finished now but it's preventing me from moving on. Silly, yes. Move on, I say.