Inspiration Is Everywhere: A Dog in the Sun and A Land Wrapped in Water

Written by Anna Stowe, Hope College Creative Writing Major and Student Managing Editor for the English Department

It’s 7 pm on November 13. Dusk has etched its colors across the sky, grayish-purply blues gathering in the shadows. The first stars glisten in the sky, soon to be obscured by dense cloud cover and drumming rain. Inside, though, it’s warm, Michigan heaters raging against the dream of snow. 

Tonight, the Jack Ridl Visiting Writer’s Series welcomes yet another mentor/mentee duo intimately connected to Hope’s literary past. Successful authors and adventurers, Chris Dombrowski and Jack Ridl, the namesake of VWS, meet to share their work and their wisdom.  The Schaap Auditorium fills and the lights dim. Throughout the reading and in the following Q&A, Dombrowski and Ridl reflect on the writing life, the natural world, and our place in it. Their language takes us to soaring heights, to moments of sunshine, the nature of humanity, violence, and beauty. Read aloud, the images come to life, forming a community around themselves.

Chris Dombrowski

Chris Dombrowski takes the stage first. His face is weathered, smile lines carving deep into his skin. I wonder if they are the marks of his love for the place, of the Montana rivers that he calls home. Immediately, he draws the crowd in, joking about his nerves. Readings may be routine, but there’s something different about reading with Jack Ridl, one of his early mentors. Dombrowski explains, “His teaching is something that you only come across once every few lifetimes. Jack Ridl made it all possible. He encouraged me in what I didn’t know then was my calling.” From Dombrowski’s perspective, our lives are the profound expression of the people we meet, a tapestry of moments and influences that may or may not seem important at the time of creation. 

Following this reflection, Dombrowski read a prose poem called “Name-Dropping,” two passages from his memoir, The River You Touch, and a final poem titled “That.” As he reads, his voice is lilting. Regarding The River You Touch, Dombrowski explains that a sliver of Jack Ridl was captured in a fictionalized character, Ralph, even though that character was dominated by another individual from Dombrowski’s life. Despite writing a memoir, this conflation did not bother Dombrowski; rather, the essence of the storytelling remained key. In the voice of Jack Ridl, Ralph captures Dombrowski’s love of Montana with the words, “Maybe the best thing that happens from this whole deal is that you learn where you’re supposed to be” (275). 

The River You Touch

As for the prose poem “That,” Dombrowski again discusses the influence of Jack Ridl’s writing. Recalling reading one of Ridl’s dog poems, Dombrowski states, “I remember thinking I would love to put a dog in a poem the way he does… And I like to think this poem does that.” Spoken with a smooth rhythm, the dog Dombrowski creates is safe and loved, having borne hardship and survived. At the heart of Dombrowski’s writing is the reflection that “When you’re in love with a place or you’re in love with a person that’s the only thing that really matters.” Vivid, intimately connected to the land and to the people that inhabit it, Dombrowski’s writing contains a longing for the long-lost days of a simpler time and the wild wonder of place. 

Jack Ridl

Following Dombrowski’s reading, Jack Ridl takes the stage. He takes the stairs slowly and lays his cane down behind the podium. His tumultuous white hair peers out from behind the podium. Lifting the mic, Ridl’s soft voice fills the room, gentle and contemplative. “What? You wouldn’t want to be a dog?” (52). My breath catches in my throat.


The poem he reads is one of my favorites from All At Once. I’d told Jack Ridl earlier that I loved how much he wrote about his dog and about gardening. I’d told him his writing felt like home, that it reminded me of my mother. Applause rippled through the room at the poem’s closing. Jack shook his head, “I have one little request. After a poem, if you feel like applauding, instead take a breath.” And each time he reads a poem, I can hear that sigh, a soft breeze filling the auditorium. 

All At Once

Reflecting on the relationship he shares with Dombrowski, Ridl says, “I want to thank Chris, but I don’t know how. It’s remarkable to read with a student who has gone on to hang out with authors and I hang out with my dog.” A soft chuckle spreads throughout the auditorium. Ridl is remarkably casual despite being woven with insight. 

Ridl reads poem after poem, capturing his listeners. His writing spans from the profound to the ordinary, all in that same quiet voice. In between poems, Ridl considers moments of his life that inspired his writing. In one such interlude, he reflects on the safety he found on the west coast of Ireland: “The only place that I have ever said I was a poet was in Ireland. The poets, the musicians, the artists, are considered tradesmen. The arts are fundamentally necessary. And I said it on the third day I was there. It was the first time in my entire life I’d said I was a poet.” This idea is reflected in the poem “Before What Came Before,” which considers the beauty of Ireland (despite its hardships) and its wide, welcoming spaces that somehow scream home (79). Poetry imbues the Irish landscape, forging intimate connections through place and language.

Other times, Ridl broadens his scope to reflect upon larger American culture. “In this political era, I wish it was life, liberty, and the pursuit of empathy. But it isn’t and we’re all still out here trying to be happy.” Aloud, Jack Ridl’s poems come to life, their sound seeming to dance through the air. His words draw the crowd in, eliciting a response. Sometimes laughter, sometimes murmuring, but always engagement. Perhaps it’s because of the simple honesty of his writing—poems capturing single, intimate moments that carry the weight of the communal. 

Following the reading itself, Ridl and Dombrowski settle into chairs, poised to consider the questions of the audience. Ridl fiddles with his cane, draped over his knee. The majority of the Q&A centers around the writing process and the vulnerability of writing. 

Dombrowski begins the conversation by explaining that trustworthiness stems from vulnerability,

—“vulnerability is the writer’s greatest defense. You must establish trustworthiness to get to vulnerability and you must also have precision of language.”

Utilizing language effectively is crucial because writing is an act of communication—not just an act of expression. With this in mind, Dombrowski articulates the importance of revision which must be done ruthlessly: “I love the revision process because as it’s happening the story is getting more graceful, more efficient, more communicative.” 

Dombrowski encourages listeners to “trust the language to get at what you’re trying to say. Sometimes it’s the language rather than the musicality of the path that draws people to truth.” Reflecting on his writing, Dombrowski considers the natural lyricism of his prose: “I’ve become comfortable with my prose style having adopted a kind of lyricism. In that sense, I have less of a sense of guilt for abandoning poetry.” Regardless of the writing style, Dombrowski emphasizes the importance of maintaining a sense of self, observing the world, and writing about that world in the most communicative way possible. Language comes first, even when writing about the deeply personal. 

Likewise, Jack Ridl considers the importance of poetry and its writing process. Pondering his craft, he says, “The poet is trying to use words to create that for which there are no words…You must be able to articulate sense. But there’s another kind of knowing and that’s where the poem is—in the inarticulable. At the end of the poem, the poetry restarts.” A poem should structurally be a complete unit and yet it should also draw the reader to itself once more by some twist of the language or of the feeling it elicits. The poem must create poetry. 

Further, Ridl sees everything as a source of inspiration, considering poetry as an art that made his life worth living. Looking back on his life, Ridl highlights the importance of putting pen to paper:

“What I discovered is that poetry is one of the best friends I’ve ever had. I’ve never been bored and I don’t take any credit for it. It’s all due to poetry. I can turn anything—it’s just how you turn it. Don’t ever tell me you can’t think of anything to write. You find out during the writing—not after.”

Through storytelling and example, Ridl portrays poetry as something fundamentally necessary to humanity. In his view, writing serves as an invitation to intimacy with creation and with one’s fellow man: “Writing should help you feel less alone, that somebody out there gets it.” Fiddling with his cane, Jack speaks a final blessing over the audience: “All writing holds value simply in the act of creating, of learning. Writing brings that which you would not have without it… I just want it to be important for you.”

The Hospitality of Language

Written by Elsa Kim, Creative Writing and Psychology major at Hope College

The warmly-lit seats of Winants Auditorium steadily fill with students, staff, and faculty. Golden light illuminates the stained glass windows, accentuating the wood paneling of the auditorium. It’s 7 pm on a Monday and everyone here is gathered to hear about the delights and crimes of English grammar. The crowd nestles deeper into their seats, anticipating the start of the lecture, just as Dr. VanEyk walks on stage to introduce our speaker for the evening.

Anne Curzan

Anne Curzan has worked as a professor of English at the University of Michigan since 2012. Her long string of awards includes the Henry Russel Award for outstanding research and teaching in 2007, the Faculty Recognition Award in 2009, and the John Dewey Award for undergraduate teaching in 2012. Curzan also co-runs a Sunday morning segment on Michigan Public called “That’s What They Say” and has written many books and articles on the English language. She’s even given a TedTalk titled “What makes a word real?”

After welcoming applause from the audience, Anne Curzan walks to the front of the auditorium and introduces her lecture for the night, based on her new book: Says Who? A Kinder, Funner Usage Guide for Everyone Who Cares About Words. Curzan, wearing a beige plaid dress, glances up at the title. “And yes,” she says, turning to challenge us with her stare; “I did use the word ‘Funner.’” The crowd laughs.

Curzan then explains what a historical linguist actually does. She sums it up as “analyzing how we get from Beowulf’s ‘Hwaet! We Gar-Dena in gear-dagum…’ to modern-day texting and the word rizz.” The job of a teacher and linguist, she tells us, is not actually to make sure that students learn correct grammar. Instead, it’s to ensure they have “the largest possible toolbox” to utilize language.

Next, Curzan leads the crowd through an exercise. She reads the sentence “At midnight I ____ into the kitchen” out loud, then challenges us to insert either sneaked or snuck into the blank. When asked for a vote, over half the audience members raise their hands for snuck. The room hums quietly as people discuss in whispers: Which of these words is right? And does that mean the other one is made up? Curzan gives us her own answer. “A word is real if we all know it and understand it.” And although there isn’t a technically correct version, Curzan tells us that snuck—a new and irregular iteration of the original sneaked—has recently become the most well-accepted usage.

After this exercise, Curzan addresses what she calls “our inner grammandos and inner wordies.” A grammando, she explains, is “one who constantly corrects others’ linguistic mistakes.” In contrast, a wordie is defined by the Merriam-Webster Dictionary as “a lover of words.” Curzan tells us that “everyone has an inner grammando and an inner wordie.” In fact, we need the two to help balance each other out. And while some of the prescriptive, grammando rules may be helpful to follow, others were never actually true in the first place. For example, the rule “don’t use the passive voice” can be helpful or not depending on the context. Meanwhile: “Don’t start a sentence with and or but? Completely unhelpful—a pernicious myth.” Unfortunately, because of the complex and often misunderstood rules of English, many students feel stupid for not understanding language rather than curating an interest in its changes. “A lot of our education drills the fun out of language,” Curzan tells us sadly.

Curzan then addresses the natural change of language over time—beginning with the slow death of whom. “Whom,” Curzan sighs, “has been trying to die for at least three hundred years… so it will die.” She then lists other recent language changes, such as the singular use of they, the increase of auxiliary-like verbs (hafta, wanna, gonna), and new punctuation conventions for texting. “Tell me if I have this right,” Curzan says, gathering her memory. She then proceeds to (correctly) define the different meanings of the word okay over text. Plain old okay is neutral, it means exactly what it says. In contrast, okay with a period takes on a more serious or angry tone, while ellipses make it skeptical or hesitant.

Finally, Curzan ends by saying that she hopes we can “adapt the mentality of a birder” when approaching language. “Birders,” she notes, “are curious when they see a new bird—they wonder where it came from and how it adapted—they don’t instantly want to kill it.”

As the evening draws to a close, Curzan takes the time to answer a couple of audience questions. Her thoughtful responses highlight the kind approach she takes toward both language and people. She emphasizes the fact that “while intention matters, reception also matters.” Curzan herself has changed a lot of her own language to be more inclusive for everyone—despite not having any personal problems with controversial phrases such as “you guys.” Even in a field with so much room to become cold and binary, Curzan manages to find warmth for others. Her approach to language can be summed up in her final takeaway: “We can care deeply about language and still be kind to each other.”

Leave Space for Kindness and Joy Every Day: An Interview with Jack Ridl

Written by Anna Stowe, Hope College Creative Writing Major and Student Managing Editor for the English Department

Jack Ridl

The co-founder of the Visiting Writers Series, Jack Ridl, taught at Hope College from 1971-2006. During this time, Jack mentored many students and fought to bring creative writing to life on Hope’s campus. All the while, Jack poured himself into his writing, publishing multiple books of poetry. Most recently, in October of this year, All At Once was published, a book of poems forming a lyric collage that reflects on Ridl’s personal experiences and writing life.

As a prelude to the Jack Ridl Visiting Writers Series event on November 13th, I reached out to Jack and asked if he would be willing to participate in an email interview. What follows is a transcript of that conversation.

How and why did you found the Visiting Writers Series? What was the goal behind VWS?

The department wanted to add a creative writing emphasis because there was so much student interest. I always voted against it unless we were willing to add a visiting writers series.

Why? Because we had so many talented students. I was concerned that MFA programs, of which there were then likely a third or fourth of how many there are now, would not have enough knowledge of Hope and its students. 

However, if we brought in top writers from MFA programs or the opportunity to spread the word about amazing student writers, it would enable our students to receive the recognition that they deserved. My wife, Julie, and I paid some of what it took to bring an influential writer to campus. I would beg various departments, clubs, etc to also chip in. I’ll always remember and be thankful to Dan Gerber for giving me a check for $1,000. 

Today because of former writing student contributions and David Myers, the VWS budget is in good shape. Back then, there was a reading and student/writer conversation every month, eight per year. My wife, Julie, and I hosted after-reading gatherings at our house where the writers stayed and slept in our young daughter’s magical art-covered bed. They would each write TO her: Naomi Shihab Nye, Chaim Potok, Lucille Clifton, William Stafford, Joy Harjo, Billy Collins, and many, many, many more. That book is priceless.

What was it like involving a broader writing community in this manner?

It was fun and kept me up until 3 am!!! I printed out announcements and sent them to hundreds of local people. Back then this was all new. There wasn’t a single other VWS. Faculty and students from other colleges and universities within 40 miles came. I hand-wrote a note on every single announcement. I’ll always remember when attendance exceeded the fire code for the art gallery. That led us to the Maas Center, and, when we exceeded the code there, by the time I turned over the series, we were filling the Knickerbocker—unheard of.

What were some of the challenges you faced at the beginning of VWS?

Begging for money. Shaking whenever I called a writer. Charles Wright said to Julie, “Jack sounded like he was talking to the Beatles!!”

Can you describe your writing space (if you have a particular setup that inspires you to write)?

Anywhere. I don’t wanna get stuck in all that “I need an overstuffed chair, a bottle of good beer, and Indigo Girls on the SONOS, or I can’t write.” 

I follow Frank O’Hara’s saying, “If you can’t write a poem on a bus in New York City during a traffic jam, you can’t write a poem.”

How would you describe your writing process? (First drafts, research, revision, etc.)

I don’t have a particular process. I remember the day I woke up and discovered that my mind thinks in poetry. If a poem is asking to be written, I treat that similarly to having someone ask me for their attention. Then I go into a blank state and let the poem arrive. After it’s here, I spend a lot of time making sure it’s a poem that creates poetry.    

For me, the poet must be someone who uses words to create that for which there are no words.

How do you handle moments when inspiration seems hard to find?

I’ve never had that. I profoundly believe that there is not one thing that isn’t inspiring. A poet should live in that way. Writer’s block—lower standards. Again from William Stafford.

Could you share about a book or author that has greatly inspired/influenced your work?

I am a Western person with an Eastern sensibility. Key influences: William Stafford, Mary Ruefle, Gregory Orr (especially his Poetry as Survival and The Blessing), and  Li-Young Lee.

Mine. 

Also, anything by Brian Doyle, This Is Happiness by Niall Williams, The Gift by Lewis Hyde, Poetry As Survival by Gregory Orr, The Way It Is by William Stafford.

What would you consider to be the purpose of poetry? What drew you to this writing style/form?

 The purpose: to bring out the best in us—empathy, compassion, discovery, wonder, awe, add to our life of perceptions, see anew. 

What drew me—I was writing songs, but the music world is too complicated and dependent. So I asked poet Paul Zimmer if I could apprentice with him. He said yes. It was about 19 months before he said that I had written a poem, my own poem.

All At Once

How did you craft your most recent poetry book All At Once? 

One poem at a time. Then after about 80 poems, I tried to order them. It was maddening.  CavanKerry Press handed it over to writer Baron Wormser, asking him to cut thirty poems and then turn the rest into a book. He did!!! ?

How do you hope your work will impact your readers?

I hope it adds something to their days.

What is the most inspiring feedback you have received from a reader (if applicable)?

Yesterday, at a reading by Melissa Seitz and Ruth Zwald, Melissa came up to me after and told me about how a particular poem in the collection had affected her so much that she started her day by reading it. “I can’t explain it, but it puts me in a state of wonder,” she added.

What advice would you give to current English majors or students considering an English major?

Don’t fall for the STEM pressure from outside. Those areas are gonna change by the time you graduate. English is ever adaptable. I had English majors go to med school. If you can write well, you’ll be ever employable. And ya know what—it’s your life that matters, and an English major has a companion for life—a book. If you’re STEM-minded, fine. But don’t refrain from doing what you love just because of some small-minded advice. You can always be an English major and take some STEM classes. 

What are your favorite hobbies?

I have no hobbies per se. We live on seven acres of woods with a large pond. I love taking care of it, as well as creating and caring for a garden that places the flowers like an abstract painting. I’m a coach’s kid and a former athlete (shortstop and basketball guard) so I remain interested in sports. GO HOPE!!!!!!!

What is the best advice you have received as a writer? What advice would you share with aspiring writers?

The great William Stafford said: “Only one in ten of my poems is effective, but they were all worth writing.”

My sister in poetry, Naomi Shihab Nye, said to me when I asked her what’s important if you are a teacher of poetry, “Say ‘yes’–a lot!”

Also—Write as an artist. Write because of what happens WHEN you are writing. Notice what writing does for you when you are not writing. For heaven’s sake don’t write thinking someone will care.

Jack Ridl

 

Faculty Spotlight: Angela Winsor, Assistant Professor of English

Written by Anna Stowe, Hope College Creative Writing Major and Student Managing Editor for the English Department

What class(es) are you teaching this year?

  • ENGL 153: Intro to Creative Writing
  • ENGL 254: Intermediate Creative Writing: Fiction
  • ENGL 113: Expository Writing ENGL 154: Story Writing for Beginners
  • ENGL 154: Story Writing for Beginners

What do you love about teaching? Likewise, could you describe what drew you to this field?

I love helping emerging writers cultivate a sense of their own authorship and move in the direction of their creative interests. It’s so exciting when students leave a semester with knowledge of what they’re uniquely good at and what kinds of stories they want to tell.

There are many things that drew me to the field of creative writing, but one thing that drew me to teaching creative writing is the collaborative nature of a creative writing class. In our classes, we come alongside each other to help push one another’s work along. And for a workshop-style class to function really well, we have to be vulnerable and we have to be generous. Part of my job is fostering connections between the writers in the room, creating an atmosphere where students can bring themselves and their writing to the class authentically. There is so much joy in this work for me.

Moreover, creative writing is necessarily multi-disciplinary, and this is what will forever keep me in the field. When we are crafting new characters and their stories, we’re often thinking about (and reading about and talking about) history, psychology, religion, the environment, technology. We study film and theater techniques to help us think about writing dialogue and gestures. We look to other artistic mediums when we imagine (and sometimes draw!) the shapes of our stories, the contours of place and setting. Sometimes we’re theorists and stylists, and sometimes we’re copy editors or translators. The list goes on. Where else could I go where I’d encounter so many worlds in the span of a single class period?

Do you have a favorite book or author?

I have so many—an impossibly long list. So, here are some favorites from this past year: Say Hello to My Little Friend by Jennine Capó Crucet, Beautyland by Marie Helene Bertino, and The Hive and The Honey by Paul Yoon.

If you could teach any class, what would it be?

I’d love to teach creative writing classes with community-facing components (whether that is through service-learning projects, or collaborations with museums or local organizations). Luckily, I think I’ll get to do this in some of my regularly scheduled courses in the coming years at Hope!

What’s one book you think every student should read?

Salvage the Bones by Jesmyn Ward. I think every writer should spend time with Ward’s characters and prose.

About the book

What’s the best piece of advice you’ve been given?

Writing advice: Finished is better than perfect. I’m not sure I always believe it, and I often completely abandon it once I begin revising, but it’s a mantra that has gotten me through many first drafts.

Life advice: Say your kind thoughts aloud. Even if it’s embarrassing, even if it feels small or silly—I’m never sorry that I put that kindness in the world.

Pivoting to a Professional Passion: Alumni Spotlight with Katharyn Haas (’15)

Written by Anna Stowe, Hope College Creative Writing Major and Student Managing Editor for the English Department

What do you do now? And we’d love to hear a bit about how you got there as well.

I am currently the lead agent at Pande Lecture Management (PLM). We assist event hosts who are looking for authors to speak at their events. Our primary focus is amplifying groundbreaking authors who bring long-silenced perspectives to meaningful topics.

I also assist Ayesha Pande at Ayesha Pande Literary with managing foreign rights for the James Baldwin Estate. The books of James Baldwin are currently being translated into 27 different languages and will be available in more than 30 countries. Because August 2nd, 2024, marked 100 years since the birth of the notable author and activist, the last year has been a busy season as we fielded an influx of international publication requests leading up to the centennial. Most of my work is done remotely at my home in Michigan as the clients we interact with are located all over the world. However, our main office is in the Harlem neighborhood of New York City.

My journey to this role is perhaps a bit unusual and involves a career pivot in my thirties [cue that well-known scene turned GIF from Friends]! After graduating from Hope, I pursued a master’s degree in library and information science from Wayne State University while working part-time at Herrick District Library. I took a public librarian position at Portage District Library in Portage, Michigan, a few months after completing my graduate program. I served as a public services librarian and adult programming coordinator there for nearly six years. While working as a public librarian, I also volunteered with the Michigan Library Association and the Great Michigan Read program. My role as a librarian and my volunteer work provided me with opportunities to see the beneficial impact of author events and the important community conversations they inspired. Over time, I realized that cultivating meaningful event experiences with authors was my passion and I sought a position that would help me make a difference in this area.

How did your Hope English education shape you?

Hope provided me with the nurturing environment I needed to achieve my goals. My Hope English education was pivotal to my overall career trajectory and I would not be where I am today without the above-average care and investment given to me by Hope’s English faculty. To provide some context, I grew up on a dairy farm in rural Northern Michigan. I was educated at home until college. My education before Hope was different than the training received by many of my peers. Caring English faculty like Dr. Gruenler, Dr. Parker, and Dr. Burton (to name only a few!) provided me with the support I needed as a student.

Dr. Curtis Gruenler
Dr. Rhoda Burton
Dr. Stephen Hemenway

Dr. Hemenway advocated for me to study abroad in Vienna to conclude my senior year and my experiences out of the country were invaluable. My time in Austria challenged my established biases and encouraged me to examine the world from new perspectives.

With their guidance, I honed my skills as a scholar, presented at my first professional conference, and celebrated my acceptance to both of my top two graduate programs. 

The care I received at Hope also extended beyond the English Department. Even though I was only at Hope for two years, I was given an opportunity to work at Van Wylen Library by Rachel Bishop. I learned a lot about the information professions from the amazing Research and Instruction librarians I served under. I also worked at the Klooster Center for Excellence in Writing during my senior year. I think it was one of the librarians at Van Wylen who connected me with Dr. Van Duinen when she was looking for a few students to help with one of the first Big Read Lakeshore programs–one of the early inspirations for my current career!

Going into college, what career path did you see yourself in? Did that change during college? How similar or different is that path to what you do now?

I arrived at Hope as a transfer student for my junior year of college after two years at a community college. At that point, I knew I wanted to pursue librarianship. How to get there, however, felt a little fuzzy as there were few requirements necessary to be accepted to a graduate program in librarianship. I had decided I needed to study something practical (see below question about advice!), so I declared an Education major as a secondary candidate. This decision was not made out of a desire to teach high schoolers. I chose secondary education because it allowed me to pick a content focus in English.

My education major was an unnecessary safety net. Many folks cautioned me about spending time and money to study English and later pursue librarianship. I thought if something happened that prevented me from finishing grad school or getting a job as a librarian at least I could teach high school. It took some well-timed advice from the late Dr. Schakel, who was my advisor at the time, for me to realize I had chosen my degree out of fear of what might happen. With my newfound courage, I chose a degree that aligned with my desire to explore the power of the written word: A major in English literature with a minor in writing.

What advice would you give to current English majors or students considering an English major?

Don’t let the fear shackle you. 

If you are reading this, chances are you have been on the receiving end of some advice–or criticism–regarding the practicality of studying English. Well-meaning people in my life questioned my decision to pursue English and I almost let their fear hold me back. It has been almost a decade since I graduated from Hope, and what I have discovered over the years is that an English degree can be quite practical. The skills you learn as an English major can be applied to many different career paths. My English degree provided me with some foundational professional skills that I have brought to every job throughout my career: creativity, critical thinking, attention to detail, and the ability to express myself with confidence in a variety of formats.

I have a bit of a caveat to my advice: Be sure to pick a practical career goal and work hard to take active steps toward this goal during your time at Hope. Do everything you can to gain professional experience in your chosen area and related fields while still in college. An English degree can be worthwhile and versatile if you approach your time in college as a professional training ground. Make educated choices. Seek out the odds of landing a position in your chosen career and what kind of lifestyle it affords. Go to events hosted by the English department and other departments and learn about the career paths of the guest speakers. Try to shadow people in your chosen career and ask them what they enjoy and dislike about their job. Think of your time at Hope as an opportunity to put some tools in your professional toolbox. Also, never stop asking questions and exploring new perspectives.

What do you now wish you had learned or done in college?

Looking back, I wish I had spent more time considering my limited elective coursework and what skills would make me a well-rounded professional. If I were to do it all over again, I would consider how a class or two from another department could fill gaps in my skillset. As a public librarian, it would have been helpful to have some more experience in social work or human behavior. In my current role at PLM, I have a hand steering our entire business, and it would be helpful to have more knowledge about various marketing strategies or other business management experience. I think it is important to consider the type of organization you want to work for and ask current employees about the training or skills they feel they still lack.

Favorite book read recently or in college?

This is a dangerous question to ask a former public librarian… I am always reading something new! I will stick to a recently published pick: One of the speakers I work with at PLM, Carrie Lowry Schuettpelz, came out with a brilliant new book in October called The Indian Card: Who Gets to Be Native in America. 

Through Reading and Writing, We Taste Enchantment

Written by Anna Stowe, Hope College Creative Writing Major and Student Managing Editor for the English Department

2024 Critical Issues Symposium

The Jack H. Miller auditorium fills slowly. There’s nothing special about today’s set-up, only a lectern poised in the center of the stage. It’s unassuming, even ordinary, a design choice that soon becomes clear. As the clock strikes 10, Provost Griffin takes the stage, introducing the 2024 Critical Issues Symposium. For more than forty years, CIS has been an opportunity to consider intellectual topics, a space for engaging ideas, and an opportunity to emphasize curiosity among the Hope College community. This year’s topic considers processes for engaging with a world of differences. 

The keynote speaker is Chloe Valdary, who created the Theory of Enchantment. This framework for approaching the world aligns with Hope College’s model of the virtues of public discourse: the courage to challenge, honesty to speak truth in love, the humility to listen, the hospitality to welcome, and the patience to understand. As we would discover, Valdary’s approach to engaging with difference through enchantment also resonates with the practice of reading, writing, and discussing literature.

Chloe Valdary, creator of the Theory of Enchantment

The auditorium crackles with applause as Valdary takes the stage. Arranging her papers, Valdary’s powerful, calming voice fills the room. “Pardon my exuberance, but I find myself overwhelmed with joy…” With these words, Valdary begins singing a portion of ‘How Great Thou Art.’ This song became the refrain of her speech. 

“Then sings my soul, then sings my soul. I must sing—I need to sing—all day long and all throughout the night of the wonders made by the divine hand. And it is this desire that led me to the Theory of Enchantment. I marvel at the universe and I stand in awe of the miniature universes every single one of you are. Then sings my soul, then sings my soul.” Structurally, Valdary’s speech follows the elements, the forms through which we experience the world and each other: earth, water, wind, fire. 

First, the earth. Recalling a recently finished book called Spell of the Sensuous by David Abram, Valdary explains that the natural world possesses an intelligence that is not ours but is, by relationship, related to ours. Functionally, the land and the animals demand our respect for they too are created things that are not diminished by human failings. It is the principle of Komorebi, a Japanese word translating to sunlight leaking through trees. As the wonder and beauty of light moves through the leaves, so it moves through us. “This is enchantment: part of the complexity of what it means to be human. Then sings my soul, then sings my soul.”

Second, water. Water is baked into language, is necessary for human survival on its most basic level. The body is made up of water—the brain is about 75% water, kidneys around 79%. This too is part of the complexity of what it means to be human. “And so I sing of water, that which flows within and without. Then sings my soul.”

Third, wind. According to Native American tradition, the wind flows in many directions—up, down, sideways, through us, and in us. “I could not sing or speak without the wind for speech is but sounded breath. Wind is the breath of the land itself. It is the spirit of freedom and it pushes and pulls, pushes and pulls us all forward.” And yet, so many of us take this beauty, this connection to the world, for granted. We see breath as something of survival, not something intrinsically connective. Valdary reflects on how she, like many of us, treats the wind in her everyday life: “In my waking hours, I do not breathe deeply enough, I do not take time to notice, and I do not take time to breathe from the diaphragm the way I did when I was born. But in some moments when I am still I remember the sacred wind and the breath that are one. From the wind and the breath, we can learn freedom, to be fully engaged by whatever rises. This too is part of the complexity, the beauty of what it means to be human. Then sings my soul.” 

Fourth, fire. It is fire that gives us sensation and metaphor: light and dark, hot and cold, internal and external fire. In this image, fire is what brings about willpower, anger, and rage as energy combusts within us. Fire signals that our needs have not been met or that our value systems have been dishonored. Fire prompts us to defend ourselves. Recalling Martin Luther King, Jr.’s Letter From the Birmingham Jail, Valdary explains: “We must channel our anger productively and constructively so that it moves in a way that is healing without burning down the forest. Fire has a dual nature: rage/fellowship, bitterness/communion, hatred/love. This too is part of the complexity. From fire, we learn to wield power, constructively or destructively. So sings my soul.”

But what do these elements have to do with each other and with the broader human experience? Valdary is clear: “The divine hand which conjured the elements into being also brought me into being. And therefore, I am the very frequency of love. No matter what, I then have faith in my life for I am the frequency of love itself.”

The natural elements form the basis of Valdary’s Theory of Enchantment: “It is easy to forget that life itself is a prayer. It’s easy to forget when [the chaos of life steps in]. And I forget that the fire, the water, the wind moves through ‘them’ as well as me. I created the Theory of Enchantment to help myself and others remember.” This Theory is divided into three basic tenets:

  1. Treat each other like human beings, not political abstractions.
  2. Criticize to uplift and empower, never to tear down or destroy.
  3. Root everything you do in love and compassion.

Drawing on both Maya Angelou and James Baldwin, Valdary explains that humans should never be treated as objects. Regardless of differing views, we have all been created; we all share the frequency of love given by the Creator. Hatred and insecurity cause us to lash out against things that challenge us. Met by love, change is possible. 

Valdary is clear in her exhortation: “As a being you are durable and strong like the earth, constantly changing and transforming like the water–not an object, not a fixed thing. Feelings and emotions that come and go like the wind. Do not deny or repress your feelings for they will return with a vengeance and you will compulsively act them out like the fire.” The only way this changes is if we remember that we are the frequency of love ourselves. In light of this, all our actions become an act of prayer, an overflowing of the love that has created us. 

“Become love. Embody that which you already are. Reject things that seek to turn you into an object, a fixed thing. For you are a universe in miniature, constantly becoming the very chant in enchantment. Then sings my soul, then sings my soul.”

It is enchantment that connects everything. It’s not enlightenment, not an overpowering light–enchantment is about holding light and shadow in balance rather than light overwhelming everything. All these things make up the complexity of who we are. And there is no light without darkness–it’s built into the fabric of our existence. “If we can hold that delicate balance, then we can spread that compassion to others.” 

Following this encouragement, Valdary read the poem “Please Call Me By My True Names” By Thich Nhat Hanh. The poem serves as an example of what Valdary has highlighted thus far. There is always room for compassion, for acknowledging the humanity in everyone—even those who are ‘against’ us or who do horrible things. There is space to acknowledge the rhythms of the natural world, to see complexity as beauty. There is room to see everything in life as a form of ongoing prayer. 

But what does this talk have to do with English? As scholars and makers of literature, how often do we really come into contact with these conflicting relationships?

The answer? Every single day. Just as it is important to engage with many voices whether we agree with them or not, so too is it important to engage with literature from different times and cultures. In the pages of books, we learn what it means to be brave, to be wise, to be flawed, to be human. We enter and exit the imagination and experience what it is to be enchanted with the world and the beauty that fills it. Through literature and writing, we encounter voices and lives that are vastly different from our own—that contain ideologies we may fundamentally disagree with and that may offend us. Tasting complexity through literature and applying what we have learned to the outside world, we step into the Theory of Enchantment. 

Authors of the past were once of the present; their writing is shaped by the world in which they lived, by their beliefs and experiences. In analyzing their works, there is room to criticize and praise, moments of insight that became critical for ongoing thought processes. As for love and compassion, these can be applied indirectly—even in connection with modern society. The ideologies of the past influence the thoughts of today. We can engage more effectively with the current climate by understanding these ideologies. Such language and connection is that of poetry. And it is this quality that Valdary’s speech takes on. Through repetition and imagery, Valdary’s words are memorable and applicable. They are enchanting. 

Beyond these qualities, Valdary’s speech itself reveals the value of engaging with literature while pursuing the Theory of Enchantment. She draws on Martin Luther King, Jr. Maya Angelou, and James Baldwin—all historically located thinkers, writers, and speakers. Their ideas are not merely centered in their own time—they are foundational to the present. 

Literature and writing. The past and the present. Earth, water, wind, fire. 

Then sings my soul, then sings my soul. 

From Hope to Houston

Written by Anna Stowe, Hope College Creative Writing Major and Student Managing Editor for the English Department

Alumni Spotlight:

Eileen Ellis (’23)

What do you do now? And we’d love to hear a bit about how you got there as well.

Currently, I am in my first semester in the University of Houston’s  M.F.A. in Creative Writing (poetry, specifically)! I didn’t realize I was interested in pursuing an MFA until the spring semester of my Senior year (nor did I think I was “good enough”), and as such, I missed the deadline to apply for programs that started in the fall of 2023, but I’m actually very grateful of that since in taking a gap year, I could focus on my applications without the added stress of school, as well as work full time and save some money. Although I am only a handful of weeks into my program, I am really enjoying being back in an academic environment where both my intellect and creativity are fueled and nurtured by wonderful, brilliant people.

How did you Hope English education shape you?

Speaking of being in an environment where I was lucky enough to be surrounded by wonderful, brilliant people, that is what shaped me the most during my time at Hope College. Without the people at Hope who took a personal interest in my poetry and who believed in both me and my writing, I would not be where I am today. To that end, I would be remiss if I did not express my gratitude to Professor Peschiera, Professor Childress, and Professor Burton, as well as everyone I worked with at Opus and in the many, many workshops in my creative writing classes.

What advice would you give to current English majors or students considering an English major?

To anyone majoring in English or considering it, and especially those interested in English as creative writers, I would first emphasize the importance of being an active participant in workshops. It’s always exciting (and/or nerve-racking) to get your writing workshopped, but I think the most important part of workshop is giving constructive feedback to your peers. I would argue people learn the most and improve their writing the most when workshopping other people’s writing. My second piece of advice would be to get involved outside of your classes. For me, I found a home in Opus and in studying abroad in Dublin, but Hope also has lots of other organizations worth getting involved in. Whether they be related to English/creative writing or not, they will add flavor to your life.

Favorite book read recently?

Written by Mary Rakow

My favorite book that I read recently was for a class I’m in right now that focuses on the relationship between creativity (especially that of creative writers) and consciousness. The novel This is Why I Came by Mary Rakow is about a woman who, while waiting in line for confession, retells herself stories from the Bible using beautiful lyrical prose that essentially turns the novel into a book of poetry. I think part of why I enjoyed this book so much is that it wasn’t something I would’ve picked up on my own and yet I liked it so much, I plan to read it again (which I almost never do) when I have the time!

What do you wish we’d asked, and what would your answer be?

I wish you’d asked, “Hey, Eileen, did you happen to get a cat in Houston?,” and I would’ve answered, “yes and his name is Loki, he is my perfect baby boy (he’s actually about 2.5 years old), and he likes to sleep with his face smooshed into the armrest of the couch.”

Writing That Reached Us

By Anna Snader ‘26, English Literature Major and Political Science Minor

On September 30th at 7:00 pm, the Jack Ridl Visiting Writers Series welcomed Heather Sellers, a former Hope professor, and Anna Gazmarian, a 2014 Hope alum, to read their work. After reading Devout by Anna Gazmarian and You Don’t Look Like Anyone I Know by Heather Sellers, I was eager to hear them read their writing in their own voices. 

First, we heard from Anna Gazmarian, who graced the stage in her lively red pantsuit. Immediately she cracked a joke about how 10 years of drafts would lead to book material. Her wit and honesty captivated us, and only grew as we were brought back to her Hope College days. She leaned into the podium over her memoir, Devout, and read a passage about her poetry class with Heather Sellers that helped her navigate her struggles with faith and her bipolar disorder.

Anna Gazmarian

She wrote about an Elizabeth Bishop poem that made her cry, her group workshops at Good Time Donuts, and the first poem she wrote that was featured in the class packet. Interspersed with Bible stories and her own, Gazmarian captured the power of writing and community, and the ways her writing became a form of prayer and redemption that her evangelical churches could not provide.

Next, we heard from Heather Sellers, who walked on stage with various books and journals. As she introduced her recent poetry books and manuals, we expected her to read from her recent collection, Field Notes from the Flood Zone, but she did not. She did not even begin with her own work, but with her friend John Brehm’s haikus. Sellers explained that haikus were hard to write in both languages and admitted, “I can’t write anything short.” We laughed. She explained that haikus were like a door swinging open. They left us with something more. Something to wonder about.

Heather Sellers

Sellers read two poems from her collection, Present State of the Garden, and a new poem called “Women in Tampa Talking about Alligators.” In these poems, Sellers drew us in with her vivid poetry, descriptions of her classrooms, students, and wildlife. She was not concerned about our expectations, but cared more about performing in a way that was immersive. When she began, I leaned in. Her words alone were astonishing, a perfect balance of humor and sorrow, but it was the performance of her writing that I was most struck by. Her reading left me with space to wonder. 

After their readings, the audience asked Sellers and Gazmarian questions about their writing, practice, and teaching. 

Could you share more about the impact of communities on writing, particularly communities of faith?

Gazmarian explained how essential community is to her writing and faith practice. Her friends are her church, helping her through many mental health struggles and supporting her in her writing journey and career. She believes these people are made in the image of God and point her back to Him. Sellers considered her community as one that included the readers. She said her work moves away from herself and toward the reader, because ultimately, it is for them. She describes this relationship as a type of grace.

How did you find freedom from genre? 

Sellers joked about being naturally rebellious, but also explained how daily practice was important to improving her craft. She firmly believes that in order to be a writer, you should be able to write in every genre. Gazmarian spoke about the uncertainty of writing and how dwelling in the mystery made it similar to a faith practice. For her, writing is a way to connect to God and help her reclaim her belief that she is made in the image of God.

What makes a good teacher?

Sellers, an educator for multiple decades, defined a good teacher as someone who was passionate about learning, had a deep reverence for their students, and personalized the content. She believes that teaching is shared with the students, and that teaching should come from a disposition of humility and openness. Finally, she said her job was dependent on bad writing.

 “I love bad writing!” she said. We laughed but didn’t doubt her for a moment. 

Gazmarian said a good teacher believed in a person’s potential, had compassion and understanding, sought creative ways to engage, and recognized how people access the world.  

By the end of the night, I was incredibly grateful and inspired by the courage, humor, and insight that both our visiting writers brought to the stage. Although Sellers and Gazmarian approach their writing practice in different ways, I am reminded that there are many ways to be a writer. In the end, their words, advice, and presence reached us, and that is what was most important. In fact, their words are a reminder that writing, committing to a practice, and sharing it with others is no small thing. On the contrary, it is everything. 

English Course Preview – Spring 2025

  • Pre-Registration Advising:  October 21 – November 1
  • Registration Week:  November 4 – 8

Take a look at our upcoming offerings as you begin to plan. Be sure to make an appointment with your advisor if you are not sure which English classes to take in the spring.