With Gratitude to the Saint of Writing for Wellness

A Conversation between Nicolás Dumit Estévez Raful Espejo and Julie Davey

NDERE: Julie, I wish that we could be sitting for this interview under a lemon tree in sunny California. We are far away from each other though, so the Internet will do. And the Internet is truer to our relationship, since we met through e-mail.

You share the title of Saint of Writing for Wellness with Saint Francis of Sale, Patron of Writers and Journalists. He is also the patron saint of those hard of hearing. You too are a journalist and you have also worked with those dealing with health challenges as part of a program at City of Hope, a cancer research and treatment center in Duarte, California. I write affirmations every day to keep myself in balance mentally, physically, emotionally and spiritually. Can you tell us about what writing for wellness entails and how it has worked for some of your students?

JD: Thank you, Nicolas. You honor me with a title I can never achieve. A “saint” is a beyond what I will ever be. What I do know is: Words matter. When we all look back over our lives, what do we all cherish and save? We save old letters from friends and relatives, along with our favorite books, birth certificates, obituaries of relatives, programs from special events, diplomas with words on them stating our educational backgrounds. Now, I will save the words on this page in which you give me the title of Saint of Writing for Wellness. I am honored to share that title with Saint Francis of Sale, as you wrote. But, I can never live up to that title.

Besides saving words, though, we also save photographs and other “treasures” too, but mostly people feel forever connected to words. Taking an oath, saying, “I do” are examples of words that we live by.

Writing, as you, Nicolas, continue to do each day, to maintain a mental balance and to put emotions and events into perspective is an excellent way to record the highs and lows of your daily life as well as to see how spirituality and faith assists us in overcoming negatives. That type of daily writing is called “journaling” and many people do that on their own and find the exercise of writing down one’s thoughts and experiences is helpful.

What we do in Writing for Wellness classes is called “focused and directed” writing therapy. My students at City of Hope ranged in age from an eight-year-old girl, my youngest, whose mother had cancer and wrote a poem praising her mother’s strength in fighting cancer, called, “Strong as a Lion”, to a 96-year-old named Violet who wrote about her life as a concert pianist and how cancer made her remember the best of times in her life, even meeting Amelia Earhart and Sergei Rachmaninoff. At first I didn’t actually believe her words, but she brought in photos. She had wanted her poems published throughout her life to no avail, but we finally got the college where I worked as a journalism professor to print them, prior to her death.

Without a structured class which meets one day a week or twice a month, most people don’t designate a specific time or place to write. Also, since Writing for Wellness uses writing “prompts” (sentences to complete such as, “I am missing…” or “A day I’d like to live over and change was the day when…”) which all class participants are asked to use to get started, most of us might just stare at a blank screen or a blank piece of paper.

The patients, their caregivers and relatives, and members of the medical staff at City of Hope often told me, very seriously, “I’m not a writer!” and then, when they saw a writing prompt or two to choose from, they soon were using pens or pencils and paper to almost immediately start recording their thoughts and feelings.

When I’d ask them, “Were you thinking of that person missing in your life today or a special event you’d like to relive?” they would almost always say, “No.” But, when prompted to finish a sentence and then continue to write more about the topic, they had no trouble. Some could even be seen smiling, getting angry or even wiping away a tear or two as they continued to write. Feelings were coming out on paper for sure. Clearly, I have seen that we all have stories lying just under our skin, waiting to emerge. We only need a time, a place (a quiet one) and some hints about how to begin.

In my classes with cancer patients, or Marines at Camp Pendleton, or in churches or Jewish congregations, people are often shocked to see that they enjoy and heal from writing and remembering the best and worst of times in their lives. They also report that the writing process actually makes them feel better, more free with relief of a very special type. They actually begin to see words as their tools for a better life.

Nicolás, you witnessed that at the wonderful HEART Center in the Bronx, it only took a few minutes of instruction, and turning off the television sets, before the attendees there for the writing workshop started putting ideas and feelings down on paper. The rules for my classes are simple: we all must be quiet, nobody can look at anyone else’s paper and I, as the teacher, will not call on anyone to read aloud. At Camp Pendleton, the military personnel do not wear uniforms or nametags to my classes. No one but the Chaplain and I ever give our names and our academic backgrounds. Even though we do not call for someone to read aloud, after a time of quite writing, a hand always goes up, and a participant say, “I’ll read mine!” In no time at all, the ice is broken and someone else wants to read his or her writing aloud.

Another rule of writing therapy class is that nobody comments negatively about any other person’s writing. We are not writing critics. It is not the product that we are judging, it is the process of writing. I often ask the person after he or she has read a paragraph or two of their own story that was just written in class, “How did writing that make you feel?” So far, in my 15+ years of teaching these classes, not one person has said anything negative. Usually, the responses are, “Relieved!” or “Better!” or “Like I want to finish my story. Can we be quiet again? I have lots more to write.”

NDERE: You personally struggled with cancer, I had some cancer visitations in my family. As an elder artist I myself have been compelled to seek outside the conventional medical institution for healing tools, writing being one of them. Would it help to write for wellness on an ongoing basis, much like practicing preventive medicine and before things break apart?

JD: Yes, I had breast cancer twice and some skin serious cancer surgeries as well as restoration/plastic surgery, one at City of Hope being 12 hours in the operating room. Years ago, I had serious eye surgery for a detached retina. I can relate to the students who come to my classes and I often write with them during the quiet times when all that can be seen in the room are people writing. writing, writing. It fills my heart with gladness to see “non writers” discovering they are, indeed, writers. Often the chaplains write also and, if nobody raises a hand to read right away, especially during the first minutes of the first session, we co-teachers share what we have written on the same topic others in the room have been writing about. It breaks the ice in another way, saying to others in the room, “Even the teachers have something personal to share.”

What I find in teaching those cancer patients or cardiac patients in the Writing for the Heart class at the big Saddleback Church in Southern California, is that each group bonds with others in their classes and soon a “family” atmosphere of caring individuals is formed. Trust and honesty and writing combine. They feel safe to share.

Many participants say they feel closer to people in our classes than they do to members of their own families. Why? I believe it is because they share their deepest feelings with those in the room. They also know others are coping with similar experiencing they are dealing with and are becoming open to others about writing and how it is helping them.

I often ask after someone reads a poem aloud, “When was the last time you wrote a poem and took it to a friend’s house and announced, “I want to read a poem I just wrote?” People always laugh. It isn’t in our culture to suddenly, at the dinner table or with friends or colleagues at work, begin reading or reciting something that personal. During writing therapy sessions, it seems natural and educational, even humorous often times.

NDERE: We met a year or so ago. It happened that I searched for books dealing with aging as I was working on One Person at a Time with Bronx River Art Center (BRAC) at the HEART Adult Day Care Center in the Bronx. Your book, Writing for Wellness: A Prescription for Healing, came up on the New York Public Library database and I contacted you online. Luckily, you and your husband Bob were coming from California to New York and you kindly offered to teach a writing workshop at the HEART! You ended up contributing to the book that resulted from the experience in the Bronx and have been organically mentoring me on the healing properties of pen/pencil and paper. I have not found this kind of relationship with men I admire. Would you be willing to elaborate on the nuances of gender and mentorship?

JD: Mentoring comes naturally to me in that there is nothing I would rather do than teach writing, especially if I think it can help someone. Some of the classes at Camp Pendleton were almost all male. A few women Marines and Navy personnel attended and others took one look at the group of participants and did not come in the door. Chaplain James Johnson co-taught with me and he handled any of the issues that military participants had concerning combat experiences. Men later revealed that they thought it wasn’t “macho” or “manly” to share their problems with others. Women did not seem to express that concern. The men and women in the class knew the Chaplain had been told people’s fears and “sins” on a personal and private level and had “been there, done that” and they could read something in class that they would never read aloud to a “buddy” in their barracks or to their spouse at home. I would teach writing techniques to get the group started; Chaplain Johnson wrote when everyone wrote and then often times, he would break the ice with a negative memory he had of something the macho Marines and sailors could relate to. The fact that he was male did not seem as significant as what he was reading about his own feelings. It was that he had seen combat in his 20+ years in the military, and like those in the room with us, could write about it and feel safe and not judged by others.

One woman Marine waited for me until everyone left one night and headed back to their barracks. She asked if she could read her writing from that evening just to me. She did and it was heartfelt and personal about how being in combat changed her perspective forever. I don’t think she wanted to share that with a group of other military people, whether they were men or women. Yet, perhaps she shared that with me because I was her teacher of writing and an older woman, not her barracks-mate.

At HEART in the Bronx I found something I had not witnessed before. People who knew one another on a social level and often had coffee, played pool, watched television together, did not know many personal background stories of one another at all. I gave a writing prompt after asking them to bring their chairs up close to the podium where I was speaking, asked that the staff turn off all the television sets in the main areas, and to try writing about their lives. I had brought some writing journals, very nice-looking ones for men and women participants and they were on the table next to me. Some of the participants had already picked them up to look at them and asked about those and if they were “for sale”. I said, “No these are free if you take the class…”

So, once I got their attention I told them to use the paper, pens and paper on the tables nearby and after I gave them a prompt and said, “Tell your story and use facts and feelings.” Tell what specific event you will never forget, describe it and tell how you FEEL about it. If you read what you wrote, up here at the microphone, you can have a free journal, pick your favorite one.”

Suddenly after I gave them about 15 minutes to be quiet and write and everyone did, I said, “Okay stop now. You can finish these at home and bring them back to read next time,” they started to immediately line up at the microphone. I never had that happen in all the years I had taught writing therapy to hundreds of people! I had to limit them to just a few paragraphs because the line became long. Still, everyone was listening to everyone else’s writings.

They shared how they came to the United States, went to school, were poor, were even arrested one time, met their spouse, worked at hard jobs to make a living, had kids, and on and on. The looks on the faces of those in the class were priceless. It was obvious that they now KNEW something NEW about a person that connected them. As soon as the class ended, they all began to seek out others to talk with. I heard laughing; I saw hugging. heard people admiring one another’s writing.

It had worked on a level I never experienced before. These were people in a local community center who, though writing and reading aloud, suddenly found new friends.

A person’s race, culture, background or education was already known by social interactions, but writing and their feelings connected them on a deeper level.

NDERE: Chip Conley’s work and teachings introduced me the concept of reverse mentoring. Although I have been a mentor to many MFA students, I never heard this term before I met Chip and attended the Modern Elder Academy. I am very much in love with the idea that the mentee has something to teach the mentor. Caroline Pratt, founder of City and Country School, talked about learning from children. Do you have any stories about your teaching that involves learning from your students? Any stories where you as the teacher became the student of your pupils?

JD: I am intrigued and in admiration of that term reverse mentoring. It is true that “by your students, you will be taught.” One just has to listen and learn and not always think any one of us, teacher or student, has all the answers. We, together, form a new team, one that has the end result of connecting us, even those who thought we knew one another. I am writing a book manuscript right now called, “Mirrors in My Classroom.” which is about that exact subject. Now, one of the chapters will be called “Reverse Mentoring” crediting Chip Conley.

NDERE: I see you as an optimist, and I mean this as a positive trait. I tend to go downhill when I come upon what I perceive as a wall in my efforts to do a good job or to enact good in the world. I can’t think of any enemies, but I do think of apathy, complacency and mediocrity as their equivalent. How do you motivate yourself when confronted by such obstacles in the workplace?

JD: One’s mood is somewhat of a choice and we always have to remember that. When something consumes us, we need to deal with it and writing helps. But, when the dark thoughts return, we need to consciously envision a good day, a good friend, a problem solved. As simplistic as that may sound, psychologists tell us it works. Blood pressure often drops back to normal and through deep breathing, massage and exercise, we can better deal with and attempt to erase those dark clouds in the process. It is a decision not to sit and take no action to help heal ourselves.

NDERE: After 30 years of winters in New York, the city I love and that has been so good to me, I am dreaming of big skies. I hear my heart whisper, “California, the desert, California, the desert, California, the desert.” I don’t know when the move will be, but I see it in the making. I am curious if and how this vast, open skied, landscape may have shaped your ideas? I am asking because your format of teaching is expansive in how it mixes healing, cooking for your students, activism and writing.

JD: California is a time, a place and a mentality. People do flock to the desert and also to our beaches and mountain tops. Some don’t have that ability or the funds to take advantage of a trip here, but watching a video may help, listening to music such as the old song California Dreamin’ helps. City of Hope has, for cancer patients, a special channel on the in-hospital rooms where patients have flat-screen television sets, on which music and scenes of nature are played 24-7. The cancer doctors and psychologists have created that option for people whose minds are stuck on their cancer. Taking a “trip” into nature can help. In my book, Writing for Wellness, there is a separate chapter on “The Healing Power of Nature.”

NDERE: There are many parallels that connect those I am interviewing for With Gratitude: your care for elders, Linda Mary Montano’s sincere work with issues of aging, your focus on teaching, Jane Clarke’s devotion to early childhood education, your offerings to the world and Chip Conley’s selfless sharing with those around him. Can you talk about the development of positive qualities and how we can work cultivating them like a garden?

JD: Like a garden, life has time and space, 24 hours for each of us. What we do with our 24 hours each day can make a difference. We can decide what to plant, what “weeds” (toxic relationships) to remove from that garden, what lovely flowers or vegetables to plant, water, provide sunlight for, and even give special care to ensure they grow and fully develop. It is up to us to tend to our gardens and help others with theirs. Beautiful and healthful results will give meaning to us and others who share it with us.

NDERE: I thank you very much for allowing me to teach with you in my beloved Bronx and for braving the dysfunctional New York City subway system to travel to the HEART Adult Day Care Center to invite participants to nurture the writer in them. I have great gratitude for what I am learning from you.