I Benn There!

Yessir! I know it has been some time, but I have finally begun my studies at Bennington!!!!! Woohoo!!!!!!!

First thing I really must say is that it was absolutely fabulous. Next time I go, which will be in January, I will post every day (probably not) I promise. I really want you to have a blow by blow of what happens, how wonderful it is to be there.

This time, I will sum it up.

First word I think of when I think of my Bennington time there is: AWESOME!!!!

Second word: exhausting.

Third: Emotional.

I was so excited by the awesomeness that I became overly emotional which exhausted me. Also, the 45 lectures, 50 readings (not including student readings, but including graduate readings), craft workshops and writing workshops kind of made me a little bit tired too.

Now: I must clarify: you don't have to go to all the lectures, readings (including student readings and also graduate readings), and craft workshops. The only activity every single person is required to do is the writing workshops. However, you want to go to everything. Well, you do at first, then, after a while, you don't want to go to anything (if you're me), then you develop your own filter, but you're already exhausted by the time you do that, plus the things that your filter frees you from, your fast made friends make you go to, plus they make you sit on the steps and drink wine and force you to attend the dance parties, karaoke, talent shows and room parties.

In spite of that, I came home with 22 pages of newly written material to edit, plus amazing feedback and fresh eyes with which to edit both my new and already written materials. I learned that there are stories on the internet. I also came home with great new relationships and a fever to return to the suspended reality of Bennington's Wonderland.

The writers on the campus are amazing. The faculty is genius, the grounds are brilliant, the graduates are inspiring, and your fellow students (term one through four) are the bomb diggidy. If you are a part of the class that will graduate in June, 2013, you feel so lucky and special because there is no doubt that it is the very best class ever ever in all existence.

Can't stop won't stop.

So, it has been a loooong time since I have blogged. I figured I'd add a post and let people know what's going on.

I did not start my MFA program in 2009, or in 2010, and will not be starting until 2011 - January. However, I am still on the road! As I mentioned in previous posts, my problem was with funding, and my funding problem was connected to credits. I decided to stop beating a dead horse, and leave NYU alone. Instead, I went back to school. I am in an Interior Design program at the Art Institute of Pittsburgh, Online Division. The program is phenomenal, and I've learned a lot. In a year I will have completed my studies and have a certificate, with 36 additional undergraduate credits.

This is a bit more complicated than it seems, as the program I am in is a certificate program, not a bachelors program. I was going to do the bachelors, but decided to do the certificate program because I needed two years to complete the BA, and I was not going to do two years. I was going to drop out. Doing the certificate program allows me to get the credits I need and actually have a credential in the end. It's a very intense program, but I do really love the work. You know me, all things creative.

The new problem: financial aid at Bennington indicated that I would not be able to use those undergraduate credits because they are not considered undergraduate bachelors credits if they are on a transcript for a certificate, even if all the classes are also a part of the bachelors program. That's no problem though. I'm going to finish the certificate program transfer to the bachelors program, take one or two classes, and then withdrawal. I'll still have my credential, I'll learn a little more in the extra class or two, and the transcripts will be bachelors program credits and not certificate program credits. I'm smart!

Loves me... Loves Me Not... Loves Me?

So, since NYU said they'd release my transcripts internally, I decided to petition the school to release the transcripts to Bennington. See, they said they'd release them internally with the understanding that I'd take out loan money to pay off my debt to them while I was there. This would be possible if I got funding at NYU, and they have some awesome funding opportunities.

Of course, I was initially excited about NYU's decision. I finally got a yes from them about anything related to this debt and my transcripts. But as I began to prepare for applying to NYU, I couldn't help but realize the several problems that come with this arrangement:

1. What if NYU doesn't accept me? Then that means no MFA program at all. It also means I don't pay back NYU.
2. I have to take the GRE's. Who has time or money for that? Not this single stay at home mom.
3. NYU does not have a Non-Fiction discipline. Although I also write fiction and poetry, I want to study Non-Fiction. I do write in a style that is similar to fiction, and honestly would love to study fiction, strengthen myself in that area. However, I really don't know if my fiction is strong enough to warrant the acceptance that would give me the opportunity to pursue that growth at the MFA level. Having already been accepted into programs for both poetry and fiction, I have more confidence in my writing in those areas. But I'd want to apply in fiction rather than poetry. I at least have experience (years through 12th house) workshopping my poetry, and I really want to work on my prose writing.

So, I asked NYU to consider sending my transcripts to Bennington. And I'm sure anyone can understand that after all the work of applying to Bennington, after the relationships I built, the work I did to prepare to begin there, the reading of faculty lit, and the difficult process of chosing that program, feeling it best suited for me out of all the programs I did and could have applied to, I still, uh, want to go to Bennington.

NYU said no sending of my transcipts to Bennington.

So I sent them an email detailing all of the above - well, accept that I really plain old want to go to Bennington. I see no need to insult their program in the slightest, particularly since it is awesome, fabulous, one of the very best and I truly would be excited and honored to go there - 'cept I really want to go to Bennington.

I also pointed out the actual fact that if I start Bennington in June, somehow re-securing the spot that I lost, I'd be done, or at least 75% done paying them back by the time I'd be starting NYU. And of course, that's if I get in.

One downside to going to Bennington - I'd be graduating with a new student loan debt of about $50,000 - much of which would be unsubsidized, as opposed to $10,000 in subsidized loan dept if I went to NYU. But I really don't give a fuck. I want to get started, strengthen my writing, publish, begin my life as a writing professional. I can market my work once I'm confident in it and believe it possesses a strength that deserves my marketing prowess.

So, let's see if NYU loves me even just a little bit... or at least sees the value in my reasoning.

Compelled.

I have been pretty sad since my last post. The first step toward the vision I had for, well, the rest of my life, started with that June residency. As if that wasn't enough, I have been hit with other heartaches relating to my daughter and the love of my life, with whom I am now, no longer in contact.

Marlon. It's because of him that I stay single. I know no-one who moves me as he does. But I gave him up, sent him away, because he's not mine. After some six years of never quite making it, it turns out he belongs to someone else...

So two nights ago, I stayed up all night, after receiving yet some more disappointing news. I have cried recently more than I had in years. That night, two nights ago, was just more of that same unusual flow. My restlessness was compounded by calls of concern throughout the night that ensured that any chance I had to be taken over by sleep was consistently and thus permanently interrupted. My loneliness made me feel as if my head was under a blanket, I kept grasping for air, and fighting the urge to block my number and call him. This was too much to have to deal with by myself, but he couldn't be here for me anyway. I had no one who could satisfy my need for true, connected, immersed support.

I figured I'd have to let something go, and it would not be my baby's future. I wouldn't be compromising the dedication of time and self to her. I'd have to give up everything related to music - which is a big part of my life. Another loss.

To make up for my sleepless night, I slept throughout the day yesterday. First, however, I hung in my mind, sorting out the problems, and beginning the solutionary process. It was time to get it together. I sucks that I have to do this by myself, but that's the reality, so I just have to do it. I began to map out a plan, set a schedule for writing it out and beginning to implement it. The process of finding solutions is comforting to me. It let me sleep.

I love Edwidge Danticat. Maybe, I thought, I could approach her to mentor me as a writer. My circumstances may allow her to consider that. My acceptances may ensure her that my writing has reached a level that would warrent her consideration. As a fellow (amazing) writer and graduate of an MFA program, she'd know the significance of my situation, may be sympathetic. I would be. I have and continue to mentor, why should I not expect that someone would be interested and willing enough to mentor me?

I spoke to the lawyer representing NYU today. He said that NYU will allow me to use my transcripts to apply to NYU's MFA program. Their program is awesome, but doesn't have Non-fiction. I wonder if I should apply anyway. I write in poetry and fiction, but I really did want to go into a non-fiction program. I'd love to strengthen my poetry. I was accepted in poetry as well as non-fiction, so it's possible and applicable. I didn't apply in fiction, because I feel so weak in that area, but I really am very interested in developing my fiction chops...

I intended to study all three: poetry, fiction and non-fiction.

Sigh! Bennington.

With my transcripts, I still don't have a BA, I simply have enough credits to qualify for federal financial aid. Will NYU even consider me without a BA? That is what I thought was the big question when I began the process of applying to Bennington and Lesley. But the challenge lay elsewhere. What are the hidden challenges to these new paths, should I choose to forge one of them?

And really, as far as that goes, do I really have a choice?

Some will say I always have a choice. Those would be people who don't know me as one driven by compulsions, such as the compulsion to fight, and never give up.

I haven't fully processed it yet, with my life being so busy, but it seems I have come to the end of the road. Having secured no funding, I did not send a deposit again to Bennington by the March 1st deadline. My deferment has been withdrawn and I have been invited to reapply in the future.

I really don't have any more to say at this time. I'm on the verge of crying about it, but I haven't really given myself the time.

It's at times like these that I wish not to be single, but to have someone to whom I can pass the letter after reading it, who knows just how significant a blow this is, who will simply lie me down and lie behind me, or on top of me, and hold me, so I can cry.

Yeah Baby! That's What I'm Talking About!

Ray Charles, Jerry Lee Lewis
Uploaded by Hanvak

Roses really smell like...

The first scholarship for which I applied was that offered by the R.O.S.E. Fund...  I completed the online application, which when submitted, didn't work.  I had my transcripts and two rec letters sent to them, forwarded my private (and embarrassing) financial information.  I completed the short essay questions, and made the application a Word document that I sent as an email attachment.

I was told I'd be notified in December, and that they fund in January.  This made them my first priority, for all other funders focused on the fall.  This was the one that, should I receive the scholarship, could get me the funds in enough time for me to start when I was supposed to - also in January.

There were some issues with this.  I'd be pushing it close to the deadline to pay my bill, and would have to negotiate something around when I paid based on when they announced and exactly when they would fund -  I really was pushing it close.  Also, they did not specify how much they would fund, but my impression is that they give you what you need.  So, I was super psyched about this particular grant.  I felt I had a good chance.

In December, I called to find out when they were announcing.  January, they told me.  

January.

Hmm.....

Well, that changes everything.  I didn't even bother to belabor the fact that he initially, without a doubt told me they would announce in December.  January would have been entirely too late from the giddy up and I would have deferred.  And now that I have been informed that they will not announce until January, guess what I have to do?

Defer.

Bennington had awarded me a $2000.00 scholarship for my January semester.  That has been lost.  I have no funding, and lost my $500.00 deposit.

There are actually a lot of reasons that June is a better time for me to start than January.  My daughter will have graduated from 6th grade and won't be in the middle of school while I start school.  There are five residencies, and so if I start in the Summer, my extra, or fifth residency will be in the summer too.  I don't like winter, and Vermont is colder than Philly, so that is also appealing.  It would give me more time to secure greater funding and rearrange my life so that I would be able to focus most of my time on my academics.  

However, I completed my writing packet, researched and created my reading list, had been reading literature of the faculty, and made my list for choices for my faculty mentor.  I was ready, and so I wanted to go.  But I couldn't, and I didn't.  I'm hoping to report something different for June, but right now, it's looking less promising than I'd care to admit.

Deposits of Seeds and Money.

A part of accepting Bennington's offer of admission was sending a deposit of $500.  I actually don't tend to have extra amounts of money in the $500 range sitting around my starving artist and stay at home mom with a child in private school household.  But a week after I accepted admission, I was supposed to have my paperwork in, with the $500 deposit. 

Hmmm......

I immediately made phone calls.  Did anyone have any work for me?  

Mommy needed her locks done.  She'd give me $25 each time and pay for eight in advance.  $200.  She also said she'd pay the difference between what I earned and what I needed.

Aunt Lillian wanted me to do her hair.  She is working toward wearing it naturally.  $50.

Daddy needed yard work.  $200.

Total: $500: $450, plus $50 gap from Mommy.

I want to talk about the yard work.

I went to my father's in the late morning with my puppies.  They ran around his yard while I helped him reseed.  This entailed me digging up a huge patch of grass on an incline, clearing the patch of all grass and weeds.  The patch was several yards wide, and several yards tall.  The clearing took about 10 hours.  I then bagged the yardage, put down fertilizer and seeds and covered the area with hay.

When I finished the job my hands, feet, legs, arms, and especially my back were all on fire.  But I had earned my deposit money.  I loved it the whole time I was working - breaking my back, callousing my hands, scratching my legs that burned with mosquito bites.  I loved it, because it was me working for what I want...

...my place at Bennington, my place as a writer.

Life Goes On.

So, I received a letter in the mail. The envelope said it was a public relations company. I almost threw it away unopened, but I checked it out. It was a letter regarding the Linda Lael Miller Scholarships for Women. It indicated that they received my application after the October 1st deadline, and that my application would not be considered.

I called and asked when they got the letter. October 3rd, they said. That surprised me. I felt sure were it not there on the first, it would definitely have been there on the second - which would still have been too late. I suggested they consider postmark dates in the future.

I got off the phone and immediately got a headache. I have been working in such a one track way toward my future, the future toward which this MFA is an important step, that I have put my present situation in jeopardy. When I should be hustling in cash, I'm applying for funding, and so this needs to work.  I really need to be considered for every scholarship, but repeatedly, for varied reasons, amazing opportunities are not opening to me.

For instance, my essay was not chosen for the Atlas Shrugged Essay Contest.  I was informed by email.  I was not as disappointed by that.  I really hadn't had time to work on that essay.  It was done in a couple of hours, with no time for true editing.  I was not able to flush out any significant ideas.  That was about not giving up, giving myself a chance.  The Linda Leel Scholarship was different. I mailed it too close to the deadline, having been under the impression that the scholarship was a postmark deadline, and not a "received by" deadline.  I had not done my due diligence.  I feel that I would have had a chance of receiving support from them if I had done better.

I had to keep it moving.  I still had the R.O.S.E. Fund and the A Room Of Her Own Foundation's Award of Freedom.  The latter would not notify in time to make a difference for January, but the R.O.S.E. Fund announces in December, funds in January.  That was the only award on which I was really counting  for January.  All others were awards I was working on for the remainder of my academic career.  I had a headache.

Keep it moving.

Ishara and I went home and while she cleaned her room, I sliced four potatoes and four habenero peppers, cut string beans and diced fresh rosemary. I layered a baking pan with aluminum foil, spread in the ingredients, seasoning generously with Adobo and sprinkled in this grille sauce I picked up at whole foods. I then cut in half each of the two large pieces turkey london broil that I'd marinated in the same grille sauce, placing them above the mixture. I covered it with aluminum foil and baked it for half an hour on 400 degrees. 

I had never made this dish before, I was making it up. I hoped it would taste good, and it did. It was a little too peppery though. I often slice habeneros into my meals, but this was more saucey then some others, and the pepper really got into the food. We enjoyed it - Ishara asked if we could refrain from speaking because the food was so good to her. We did drink two cups of juice though. Next time I'll just cut the peppers in half.

I felt better after I'd cooked, eaten and cleaned up the kitchen. My headache had become negligible. Life goes on.

C.R.E.A.M. Get the Money. Dollar Dollar Bill Y'aaalllll!!!!!

I can't say the number of scholarships for which I've applied, or how many essays, statements and letters I have written. I created a table with the details of each potential funding source, and as I applied, I grayed it out and moved on. One of significance is the Ayn Rand Atlas Shrugged Essay Competition. What makes it so significant is what I went through just to apply.

The contest was simple. I had to read the book Atlass Shrugged, with which I was unfamiliar, and choose one of three questions to answer in a 2000 word essay. I finished applying for another scholarship, and then went to the library to get Atlass Shrugged. It wasn't there. I went home and went online to find out what branch had it. It was at the Northwest Regional branch, close to my house. I went the next day, Saturday, before they closed. I'm not a fast reader, but I'm not the slowest, and I can read for hours straight. I'd read the book Saturday and Sunday, and write the essay Monday through Wednesday, when it was due.

Ha!

That is the longest book I've ever seen - rivaling the Bible for first place. I hustled home, (I had walked, taking a leisurely stroll through the park on my way to get the book I expected to have read by Sunday) and got my daughter ready to be independent for a few days. I then lay on the sofa in my room and read for about 10 minutes before passing out.

The next several days I did nothing but read. I took time to brush my teeth every day, but only showered once. I ate as I read, and cursed chores for standing in my way. Why the fuck do dishes have to get dirty in the first place! I took stretch breaks when I walked the dogs. Otherwise, I stayed in the bed reading all day and all night.

We ran out of toilet paper. I had to go out to the store and get some. I also got food on that run, since we'd run out of that too. Ugh! I don't have time for this shit!

I finally showered Wednesday morning, because I couldn't stand to smell myself any longer. I continued to read, and read every word, (well, accept for some of the redundant, please beat me over the head with these same ideas speaches that covered pages of the book at a time). Did I mention that the words in this 1080 page book were significantly smaller than this?

I finished the book, which I actually really enjoyed, in spite of the fact that it was at times a bit didactic, and began to work on the essay with only hours to go. At this point, it was about finishing more than anything. It represented my desire and determination to go to school, my passion to write.

Ishara (my daughter) expressed her concerns that Monday Night. "Mom, you've been working so hard! I'll be so sad for you if you don't make it."

"Baby girl," I told her, "you better not be sad for me. We're going to celebrate. You see how hard I'm working, you see my determination. That deserves congratulations. Hard work is it's own reward. And even when I get it in, if they don't pick my essay, we will celebrate. Because a letter from them represents the fact that I completed this, I got it in. That's what I have control of. I don't have control over whether or not they pick my essay. I do have control over whether or not I give up, or I fight, you understand? I'm a fighter, and so are you. So let's go."

This challenge was particularly well timed, because Ishara too was fighting for something. We were just beginning the application process for her to enter a new school for seventh grade, her current school having only grades K-6. The first application she was completing was an intense process, and she had already lost much of her work due to a sudden power outage in the community.

She cried, of course. And I told her to suck it up.

"Crying is not going to fix the problem. We'll always face obstacles. The time you spend crying and being frustrated and regretful is simply taking away from the time you can be functioning as a problem solver. You can't get stuck in what didn't go your way. You have to be a solutionary."

By Wednesday night, as I wrote my essay that had to be uploaded before midnight, my contacts began to give out. I'd been reading tiny words for too long. I could see the monitor, but as I went to reference page numbers, I couldn't read the words in the book. I was blinking and rubbing my eyes to make out a sentence, or so, but my eyes kept giving out. I eventually had to take out one contact and use one eye to see the monitor, and the other to read through the book. I did it, read over the essay a couple of times, and then saved and uploaded it at 11:46.

I don't know if it would be their best essay, but it wouldn't be the worst. Worse come to worse, I'd be prepared in advance to write a better essay for next year's contest. The important things were that I did it, and that my daughter saw me get it done.

Together, we celebrated my completed essay, and her completed application. To me, these struggles, the facing of challenges that move you somewhere meaninful, are what my life should always be about.

You know...

I have a friend that teaches at Bennington. When I called him to discuss the program, he had no idea I'd been offered admittance. He didn't know that I'd applied! I was happy to learn that. I didn't want the cloud hanging over my acceptance, that it had been influenced by anything (or anyone) other than the strength of my writing.

My show Rockitude!

Below are images from my show Rockitude.  Make sure you turn the sound on!  You can see video of us performing the original "Payback" if you go to www.seryusfoto.com/YahNeNdgo.

Teeeeee for Temple Uuuuuuu! Uuuuuuuuu for Temple Teeeeee!

I have learned that I am not eligible or Federal Financial Aid. This is because to be eligible as a graduate student, I must have at least 90 credits. I have 60. Accept that I actually have 90. Let me tell you a story.

I left Temple University in December of 1992, having struggled through two years of studies. The struggles were based on my emotional instability, as one who was surviving having lost my virginity to a rapist that I thought I liked. I had a break down that fall semester and dropped out. I pulled myself together, or time healed my wounds a bit, or life continued, whatever it was, and I applied and was accepted to New York University. I received about half the tuition in federal grants and small univeristy scholarships, and my family helped me to fund the remaining budget.

I loved my studies at NYU. I was trully focused, having finished my first semester with all A's, one B+. The latter grade was the result of my having missed my final as scheduled. I had been babysitting and the child's parents did not get there in time for me to make my class. The grade on the final was therefore dropped a whole letter grade. I otherwise had earned an A in that class a well.

The second semester was one of independent studies. I was in the Gallatin School of Individualized Study, focusing on Arts and Education. I had five independent studies with artists in Philadelphia, where I still lived and from where I'd been commuting. On one of my many trips to NYU to meet with one of my faculty advisors, I stopped to talk to the Dean. I learned then that I was losing my funding. Retroactively.

Apparently, I was in default on a Perkins Loan. The loan amount was $400. It was from my time at Temple University.

Temple started sending out bills to collect on this one of two Perkins Loans (the other I'd paid off). However, the bills were being sent to the wrong address. The loan went into default since I never paid it since I never got the bills. Of course, I never got notice of the default status either. This status was established in 1993. However, Temple administrative staff did not report this default status until the Spring of 1996, toward the end of my second semester. Thus at that point, all of the federal grants I'd been awarded were taken back because - as we all know - you cannot be in default on a loan and receive federal funds.

I paid the loan off immediately - it was now almost $800 with fees. That changed nothing. I was not eligible for aid, and I was now in debt to New York University for almost $10,000.00. I therefore never completed my undergraduate studies and my credits are in limbo land, non-existant until I get a transcript which I cannot get until the balance is paid off. Of course, since I am a starving artist and a single mom, I cannot afford to pay NYU any part of that $10,000.

Now, here's the scary part: I have no idea what happened at the end of my second semester. I had to change my focus from finishing my requirements and meeting with faculty to meeting with administrators trying to figure out how we could get the whole funding thing straightened out. I'm not sure what got turned in and what did not. I'm not sure if I passed all, or even any of my independent studies. I may have all passes, but I may have all fails. I've never seen my grades from that semester, and I have no transcripts from NYU. My records were frozen immediately.

So, I now have a new challenge, which is to find ways to fund my education. My plan:

To apply for any and every scholarship and grant that is remotely applicable to who I am as a student, and what I'm studying, while petitioning NYU to forgive my dept and release my records which would (hopefully) give me the 30 additional credits I need to be eligible for Federal Aid. Should I discover that I have any failures on my transcript, I will petition the Gallatin School to change those grades, even though they are ten years old. Considering the strength of my first semester, I'm sure they can't disagree that it is unlikely that I would have failed to complete my work during the second semester. Right?

By the way, the Financial Aid Departments at both Lesley and Bennington were sending me correspondence saying that I was in default on a loan and needed to get that squared away. Another default? I had not idea what they were talking about. I reviewed my records for my Stafford Loans and they were not in default. I went to get a letter stating as much but then, when I applied for transcripts, Temple did not send them out because their records also showed that I was in default on a loan. My inquiries determined that the loan that I was listed as being in default on was the $400 Perkins Loan I had paid in 1996. It was November, 2008.

Thank you Temple University.

And Then There Were Two...

I found the image below on the page of a fellow blogger: laviniars.blogspot.com/2008/04/doorway.html

I decided to send my application in to Bennington. What would it hurt? I thought it would be good to know how I would be recieved by another program. I didn't send it in months in advance like I intended, but just weeks before the deadline. And something incredibly stressful happened.

I was offered acceptance.

I had to make a choice!

This was stressful to me because I'd been in relationship with Lesley for months, working on the B.A. Waiver essay and touching base about the process. I hadn't recieved my letter of acceptance yet, Bennington was giving me a week from their phone call to give them my answer. I really liked both programs.

This is how I discovered Blogspot and the Creative Writing MFA blogs that are on here. I tried to get advice. Who knew both programs intimately? Apparantly no-one who was reading my desperate pleas. I realized that noone was going to make this decision for me.

I called Lesley's and Bennington's Directors and let them each know about the other's acceptances. I spoke with faculty with whom I was familiar at both institutions. I asked a variety of questions. The differences between the programs were not in the areas that were really important to me.

.

At both programs I would be empowered to study in each of the genres I write: non-fiction, poetry and fiction.

Their residencies are for almost the same amount of time. Although I do prefer longer, Bennington's is slightly longer.

They are both in cold areas (I hate cold). Lesley is in Cambridge, an upper class urban area. I do like the more country environment at Bennington seemed (more like a retreat).

I could not ignore the established reputation of Bennington. On the other hand, I liked the idea of being a part of the developing reputation of Lesley's program.

Lesley seemed to have more of an emphasis on diversity, with more students and faculty of color.

Uuuhhggg!!!!

I tossed and turned at night. I lost my appetite. Then I made a decision.

I called a friend and asked him how to announce my decision to the program to which I was not calling. He said to send an email. "Do not call." He was adamant. I don't know why. Maybe he felt calling would complicate my ability to make and go through with my decision.

I looked over all the emails from both schools. There were so many from Lesley, particularly updating me, sometimes several times a day, regarding the progress of the B.A. Waiver. The last email stated that the Dean had signed off and he was walking the Waiver to the Graduate office to get the letter offering admission. That it would go in the mail that day.

Pressure.

When I first heard from the Director at Bennington, I recalled the fact that my status as an applicant without a BA was missed at Lesley. "I don't have a B.A. You know that, right?"

"I'm not sure I know that," he answered, "but it doesn't really matter. We love your work."

I composed an email, expressing my regrets to one school. Then I made a phone call, expressing my decision to accept to the other.

.

I am now, officially, an entering student in the Bennington Writing Seminars, and will be focusing on Non-Fiction.

To Where I Disappeared...

Yeah, so...

Almost every day over the last several months, I've been like, "I need to post, I need to post!" However, this was an intense time for me. My daughter graduates from 6th grade this year, and the process of applying to schools to which she can go for 7th through 12th has been INTENSE! Further, I can't afford her tuition, and have to throw fundraisers to pay the balance after her scholarship. That fundraiser was a concert, and it took up sooooo much time. Of course, I still had to cook, do laundry, clean the house, do homework, be active at her school and bring in dollar dollar bills.

Just had the concert on February 7th. It was awesome (I'll be posting links soon enough.) The above image is of my back (I was on the phone) and my girl who helps me out on backgrounds was making fun of me (they say crack kills), along with the bassist who took that picture with his phone. My life is crazy, but I do have fun!

I'll probably post on this blog every day or two till I catch up to present day life. My everyday life is bananas, so stay tuned.

Catching Up

I did not send my application out well in advance to Bennington. However, I did call Lesley, and learned that they liked my work. Both departments to which I applied, poetry and non-fiction, were actually, apparently, from what they said at least, excited about my work. (Excited!) And so the decision was made that we would begin the B.A. Waiver process.

The way it works, I learned, is that, although I would work in both disciplines (that being poetry and non-fiction) I would have a declared focus. My B.A. Waiver would concentrate on that focus. I believed my focus should be non-fiction, as I felt less confident in that area, in spite of the fact that every writer I know who has read my work critically has indicated that they saw that as my area of strength. However, we decided to go the poetry route as I had a greater number of faculty advocates already in place in that genre. The process is as follows:

• A letter of support is drafted by and signed by two members of the faculty.
• My work is reviewed by estabished poets who are not affiliated with the University.
• Letters of support are submitted by these poets
• My academic credentials are reviewed by two members of faculty who are not in the Creative Writing Department.
• I write an essay that discusses my academic, life and professional experiences that show that I have, through a combination of those experiences, earned the equivalent of a B.A.
• I submit a Professional Vita
• These items are put together in a file that goes to the Dean who then, after reviewing everything, does or does not sign off.
• If I had less than 60 undergraduate credits, the file goes to the Provost. However I do have 60 credits (whew!).
• Once the Dean signs off on the above which represents the Department's request that I be allowed to be admitted for graduate studies, I would get a letter of admittance.

I began to work on my essay right away. I was greatly encouraged by the Director, who indicated that he had already initiated enough of the process to be confident that I would be admitted to the university once the appropriate steps were taken. Thus, for all intensive purposes, I was accepted into the MFA program!

I did it!

Thin Envelopes

I got a letter from Lesley University. The envelope was incredibly thin - was there anything in there? I opened it without thinking to hesitate.

They'd recieved my application, my letters of recommendation had arrived, but I was missing a BA Waiver.

What's a BA Waiver? I didn't know. I searched among the various forms on the website and found nothing. I called the woman who signed the letter. Still nothing. I got another letter, dated differetly but otherwise exactly the same. I called the Graduate Admissions office repeatedly, and checked the website over and again - nothing. Finally, I called Stephen Cramer, the director of the Creative Writing Program.

He remembered our previous conversation, the one in which he said, hurry up. It made me feel good that he'd remembered me. I asked if he could give me feedback on the sample I'd submitted, explaining that I was waiting to hear from Graduate Admissions about a BA Waiver and, if my work didn't warrant the effort, would rather know now than after taking this additional step.

A BA Waiver?! He exclaimed. You get that from me! You don't have your BA? I didn't realize that. I assumed, as is the case at times, that you decided not to go through with the process, as I never got your application.

Of course, without getting my application, he could not discern my need for a BA Waiver, or facilitate my getting one. Unfortunately, at this point in their process, they're candidates have been selected. However, he would review my sample again after the June residency, and we could just consider me an applicant for January. This actually puts me in a very good position for the next residency, he explained. He told me to have the graduate office send him my resume and to email my writing samples. I did.

January.

It may seem this would have been a very hard blow. It wasn't really. After I didn't get my application out to Bennington I began to establish a plan in the event that I didn't get accepted by Lesley for June. I would apply to Antioch and Bennington, maybe a few of the schools I'd crossed off my list, and research other possibilities, essentially applying to a good number of schools the second time around, more like what seems to be tradition. I began to consider the plans I'd made for after I graduate, and how they would work out if I graduated in January 2011. I determined that the timing may actually be a better were I to graduate then. So this was fine. I would probably have pursued a deferrment were I accepted for June anyway.

I agreed that now I was ahead of the game instead of backed against the wall. I could reach out to potential recommenders well in advance of the application deadlines. Nehassaiu already told me that if I needed any letters in August that she'd be able to provide them.

Stephen Cramer sent me an outline of the BA Waiver process so that I would be mentally prepared for what I'd have to do, should they consider taking that step a good idea. I should do nothing until he'd had time to read my work - after the June residency. If they wanted to accept me, then they would undergo the BA Waiver process. It is an extensive process that is required by the university in order for Lesley to allow the department to accept anyone without a degree.

So I waited, with plans to go ahead and apply to a few more places come summer. I figured I could turn Bennington's application in well in advance, since it was pretty much already done. All I needed to do was get transcripts and two other recommenders. There was, therefore, no reason I shouldn't have the application in months in advance of the deadline, right?

Right.

Signed Sealed Delivered...

I talked to Vivian, my very honest bestie, to discern if there was something in me I had missed, some part of my efforts to evolve that had failed so badly, they warranted Dianna's treatment of me. I discussed some of my particular weaknesses, finding an accord: that nothing really added up to her conclusion. Then, I cleared my head of all the mucus that had compacted itself inside of it, and moved on. I set my application to Bennington, on which I'd worked so hard, to the side, and returned my focus to Lesley.

My essay, my writing sample for both schools were similar, but not the same. Still, working from the first was easier than working from scratch. I rewrote my essay to Lesley, which had to be much shorter than Bennington's. As any writer knows, shortening is always harder than proliferating. I got it done though, working with the same determination I had been for the previous months when I began to work on my Bennington application.

Because I write in three forms, fiction, non-fiction and poetry, I felt the need to represent all three in my application to Bennington, in spite of the fact that I was applying only in Non-Fiction. At Lesley I was allowed to apply in however many fields I chose, and so I decided to apply in Non-Fiction and Poetry. I believed my work in fiction, though more plentiful, was my weakest. This was a hard choice. On one hand I wanted to get in, and felt that I should represent my best work to better ensure admission. However, I want to enter a writing program to improve my work, and really wanted to work in the area that I felt was weakest.

The truth, though, that I always have to return to, is that my fiction pieces are primarily biomythographies. Part of my writing of fiction is related to my love for the genre, part of it is my desire to hide behind it. It's so much easier to tell certain stories to the world and pretend you aren't talking of yourself. Fiction for me is akin to that "friend" we always get advice for. Maybe, I had to admit, the reason my fiction is so much weaker is because I have yet to have a fictious story to tell. Maybe I need to tell my story and get on with it, own up to it.

Aside: The samples of non-fiction were excerpts from a memoir I've been working on called Honest: A Break Up Memoir. I originally pedalled it as a novel. One of my readers challenged me as such: "It seems more like a true story than fiction..." What was I to say? I decided to just girl up and brave it out. Now, year having passed, since the incidents detailed, it seems a bit easier to do, but only with that memoir. I had to battle against the urge to write yet my next difficult story into a work of fiction, but that's a later post...

Bennington required I think 20 to 25 pages of non-fiction. What I decided to do (risky) was submit 20 pages of non-fiction, three pages of fiction and three poems (two pages). I figured, if they discarded the extraneous items, I'd still have submitted the minimum, that with those items I did not exceed the maximum number of pages, and that if they reviewed the materials, they would give insight into my particular style of writing. But, of course, this well thought out sample did not get submitted.

For my application to Lesley, I met the maximum number of required pages in both non-fiction and poetry. They allow you to submit both in one application. I refrained from submitting in fiction also. Sometimes I regret this. It would have been informing, the reaction from the review team. But now it's too late for that, right? Kinda.

I went to Teddy, my second recommender, taking the form and having him complete it on the spot. He sealed it, and I mailed it. Nehassaiu mailed her recommendation, and I mailed my application.

I want to say that, while I was working out my whole writing sample concern, I did call the school. I spoke with several people and they were terrific about answering my questions and providing me with information I didn't know I needed. They did let me know, however, that I was a bit on the late side for June consideration. I rushed my packet out.

I have to say that there is something to be said for that feeling. I took that hefty envelope to the post office, they weighed it and I paid to have it delivered. I left the weight of years of hesitation and self doubt on that post office scale. I had taken a long desired step toward a future scribed with deep blu letters.

From Shuga to Shyt

KISS MY ASSK!

Dianna, my brilliant writer friend who is working on her MEd, who teaches at the independent school, is not to be found. We had arranged to meet up on one day around the end of February so I could give her the recommendation form. She would see my new place, and we would ride by some spots I saw around here, that had apartment for rent signs out. She was thinking of moving. Now, I couldn't get her on the phone. I tried calling just about several times every day, but thought little of it. She tends not to answer her phone, check her messages.

On March 10, I dropped by her house and put an envelope in her mailbox with the form inside when she didn't answer the door. I was dissapointed that we hadn't talked or hung out, but there was time for that later. I needed this form completed. I only had three weeks.

Later that day, I got this email from her:

I'm sorry about the late notice and all; I was really hoping that you found someone else to write your letter of recommendation. I don't feel comfortable doing it-felt put on the spot when I saw the attachment at the bottom of an e-mail you sent me. I take complete responsibility for not discussing this in a timely manner and do hope that it hasn't caused to much of an inconvenience. To be honest with you, I suspect getting me to write you a letter of recommendation was the primary, ulterior motive why you asked for my help with your personal statement and writing sample. That may not be the case, but that's how I feel-whenever we talk you always seem to want something from me. I know that avoidance wasn't the answer, but it's how I decided to handle the situation. I'm sorry, and hope that you'll find someone else who can then fax the recommendation. Given your criteria was a fellow writer, it shouldn't be that hard; and I do truly wish you the best as your pursue your graduate studies.

What the fluck!? I can't even think of anything else I've asked her to do for me. My immediate response:

Dianna,

If you don't feel comfortable writing my letter of recommendation that's fine, of course you shouldn't. I don't think that I understand though, why I would need an ulterior motive to ask for your help with either of these two things. I don't know if it was naive of me, but I assumed that unless you didn't have the time, you would gladly write a letter of recommendation for me, and that you would gladly review my writing or whatever, as I would for you or Thom or Neh, or Jacqueline or even Sam, without hesitation.

I asked the same two things of every person who I approached, for support with the writing sample and essay and for a letter of recommendation. You got a different email than everyone else, in which I asked for everything all at once, because I erronously left your email out, which I realized when I reviewed the list it of people the email had been sent to. I composed your email seperately, may not have said everything, but I really didn't think it was a big deal.

I don't understand this, and I don't appreciate it. I would have had no problem with you saying no. For instance, Nehassaiu said she couldn't write my rec for Bennington, but is writing my rec for Lesley because there is enough time, Lesley's rec
being due April 1 instead of March 1. Jacqueline said she had time to review my essay only. Langston said he would try to review my sample. Janice said she didn't feel comfortable writing the rec letter because she didn't feel qualified. I was fine with whatever people said they could or couldn't do. I never ask things of people with an attitude that they have an obligation.

No, I haven't asked anyone else because I thought I could count on you, and I won't be able to get a rec and therefore, I just won't be applying. So I really don't appreciate you're avoidance, and you taking full responsibility doesn't mean anything really, because this was something really big and important for me, and those words "I take complete responsibility for not discussing this in a timely manner" don't change the fact that now all the work I've done is down the drain and I cannot apply. I'm fucking pissed off. I'm pretty simple Dianna, I don't really work with ulterior
motives. I wish people would just be fucking frank. I learned from you the importance of being present. But whatever.

I do whatever I can in almost every instance to help people, and when I don't ask people for help I get fussed at and asked why I act like I don't deserve the same kind of support that I like to give other people. Well this is why, because I don't feel like dealing with someone else's bullshit, her own baggage that causes her to interpret my actions negatively and try to make me out to be some kind of bad and using person. Yes, I always intended to ask you to help me with all of that, and whatever you could offer I would have appreciated. And whatever you said no to I would have understood. But this, this is insulting, hurtful and mean. You are wrong for doing this to me, I don't deserve the perspective or the treatment. Don't do the rec, I won't ask
for your help again, and I'll just start preparing to apply to programs in
August.

This application to grad school was important to me for many reasons. It represented follow through, I was finally following through with my ongoing plan and desire to go to school for writing. Also, it represented my ability to pursue a path and forge a future that I could enjoy and that would lower my neediness, strenthen my independence. I don't want to be a burden to anyone. And I don't want to end up having supported and nurtured my daughter only so that she can be burdened with having to support me because I haven't been able to establish a structure of consistant stability.

Note: Being an artist, I found it impossible to exist in the typical life work situations for long. I don't desert, but somehow it never works out. The world keeps sending me back to a space in which I belong, but I get hungry in that space. I must get to a point at which I will produce works that I feel comfortable putting out, and establish a life work scenario that my spirit will approve.

I did not deserve Dianna's decision and, quite honestly, I felt she should have sucked it up and kept her commitment. This, I think, was the wrong time, the wrong way to confront whatever issues she'd had with me. And clearly, her response was related more to previous interactions and not this one request. To this day I don't understand what she accused me of in her email at all. Why would I need to be manipulative to get a letter of recommendation? We are supposed to ask people to write rec letters, that's the nature of rec letters. How does my asking her to read my writing sample and essay get me any closer to getting a letter of recommendation from her? How does the first cause the second to happen any better, any surer? Anyway, who would write a letter of recommendation for a writing progam and not review or refamiliarize themselves with your writing? I'm still baffled.

I had such a high regard for Dianna, and always percieved her as having a great ability to confront situations directly, but I guess that's just perception, and we all have our weaknesses. Like me, she too is flawed. In this instance, her weakness was having a grave impact on me. Of course, I intended to apply to Lesley, and if that didn't work out, I would apply again to programs in August. I thought, maybe I'll even apply to a quadrillion programs like everyone else does. So much farher in advance, I believed that at least I'd have success getting rec letters.

Dianna's perception was invalid, I lacked respect for her decision, and it hurt my deeply. After I sent that response to her email (much of a second and final response is actually contained in this post), I cried hysterically until my nose began to bleed. Before I could get myself together, my nose was bleeding out of both nostrils and my mouth, and blood was dripping from my left eye. I never spoke to her again.

Fluckin Britch!

On My Waaaaaayyyy!!!

Of course, since I've been applying for MFA's for years, I have already sent manuscripts of poetry and fiction to friends asking them to read them. They took time from their busy schedules to review and comment in detail on my work - that I hadn't sent anywhere. This time, I couldn't bring myself to turn to anyone until I was sure that I would apply. I rolled my sleeves.

I worked on Bennington first because their deadline was a month earlier. I completed the application form easily, got my transcripts and began to work on my writing sample. I could not spend much time on that sample. I knew myself well enough to be sure I would never, ever send it in if I tried to get it "finished." (You know "finished," that ever allusive (for me) point at which you stop editing a work.) I focused on changing some tense choices I'd made when I first started working on the memoir, and eliminated a punctuation style I felt was not really adding to the emotion of the text as I wanted it to. Then I turned to my essay.

I was nearing the April 1st deadline, and had not requested any letters of recommendation. I wasn't going to until I had my essay done. In my mind, (although this probably was not the case) my essay had to be absolutely perfect. This had to be "finished." This was a shorter work, and could demonstrate how strong the work in my writing sample could be if I had some support. The work I couldn't allow myself to do on my manuscript was exactly what I felt compelled to do with my essay. I worked on it non-stop for about a week and a half. First draft I did in a sitting or two. Then I edited it about six times, until I got it where I felt it was tight. Finally, excitedly, on February 22nd (or thereabouts) I sent out an email to my friends.

My request was that they do any or all of the following:

review and critique my writing sample
review and critique my essay
write a letter of recommendation

In the email request I included the writings and the letter of recommendation form.

It hit me later that day that I hadn't included Dianna in that group email request. Dianna was a member of 12th House, a writer's group to which I'd also been a part. She'd actually been my writing partner. She was on sabbatical and was in a Master's program at University of Pennsylvania. She was a teacher in the middle school of a great independent school in here in Philly. She was brilliant and I couldn't believe I'd forgotten her. I sent her the writings and she quickly agreed to review my work. I began to get responses to my first email.

From Janice, a graduate of the University of Pennsylvania who wrote but never work-shopped, I got a few lines that said "writing samples sound good, essay sounds good!" She said she didn't feel qualified to write a rec letter.

Jacqueline, a current PhD student who was at that time in a Master's program (history) said she wouldn’t do a letter of recommendation. She did give me awesome feedback on my essay. The primary feedback was: You're putting yourself down too much. You undermine every good thing you say about yourself. Stop it! You're hurting my feelings! She then explained how she felt I was doing this, and boy was she right! Essentially, everywere in my essay I said, I did this thing, but it wasn't that great.

I began immediately to rewrite the essay. In the meantime, I got a message from Nehassaiu, my sister in New York, an actress who also has an MFA in poetry from Brown. The schedule from her shows would not make it possible for her to get to me by Bennington's deadline. This was disappointing because we were together in the writer's group 12th House longest, being among it’s founding members. She is among those who know me best as it relates to my becoming a student in an MFA program. However, I was happy to learn that with Lesley's deadline being a month later, she could write that recommendation. And Lesley only required two (Bennington, three.)

Dianna gave me her feedback, and between her and Jacqeline's responses, I pulled together a very tight essay. But, I had no recs.

Two of my former workshop buddies had professional affiliations with the programs to which I was applying. I didn't want that intervention, and they didn't want that conflict. Still no recommenders for Bennington’s ever approaching deadline.

I began to panick. I couldn't think of who to ask. Then I thought of another former 12th House member, Matt. Matt was a graduate of Columbia's MFA program, author of three published novels. We hadn't corresponded in about a year, but I didn't think that mattered. It matters very much, however, if his email address has changed. We couldn't find him.

Dianna never mentioned one thing about the recommendation letter. She hadn’t said yes, she hadn’t said no. Had I asked her? I sent my work to her in a separate email. I called and it turned out I never did ask. She said yes, she could do it, and she could do it for both Bennington and Lesley. Yes! One down, two to go.

I thought suddenly of another artist, Teddy. Although his area was visual art, he was immersed in poetry, and had collaborated on projects with various writers, most often Amiri Baraka. He knew and could speak to my work. I called him, and he agreed to write a rec. Yes! Yes! So now I had just one more to find - but the deadline was speeding down on me like a runaway train, (or some other overused metaphor.)

Finally, Janice, aware of my troubles volunteered to write my third letter. I don't know why she felt unqualified. She completely was, and is a hell of a writer. So, Yes! Yes! Yes! I was now on my way, and not a moment to soon, being only a month away from Bennington's deadline. I could now turn to my attention to Lesley.