60s Witness A 10 year-old boy crying at the funeral of his older brother, A warm summer afternoon, while my mother irons. I listen to a King speak and try to tell anyone who will listen that this is history-making, Fire hoses, snarling dogs, a Sheriff named Bull. College students are next. We're told to carry plastic bags filled with water in our your pockets when the governor comes to campus, this will help when the tear gas flies, CIA agents are rumored to be attending our classes, watch what you say, or not. At a party in 1969, all they played was Creedence...one after another. Today we marched inside a draft board, the clerks scared and outraged by our au...
I had an idea that they would work. They did, for the most part. The writing prompts and strategies I used with 11th and 12th graders in high school had much to offer older adults. That's what prompted me to take a leap of faith and offer a writing class for older folks. There was the Tai-Chi group too. For the past year, I've been taking Tai-Chi classes through my local gym and community center. It was there I met an ice group of older folks who have lived a bit of life. They have stories to tell. Sometimes, they even want to tell them, but just need a little motivation. I asked around, and when it appeared that there was a small core of folks that expressed interest in a class that would offer some writing opportunities, I decided to proceed. I envisioned this little writing workshop as more of a volunteer effort. But, when I asked at my local community center I learned that everything offered there went through...