That Time I Scared My High School Creative Writing Teacher

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Have you ever written something that you’ve regretted sharing? What did you learn from the experience?
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Once upon a time in ninth grade, my creative writing instructor, disturbed by a short poem I had written, called home to my mother.

Here’s what it was:

“I lit the fuse and exploded that day.

My severed body parts splattered and began to decay.”

Let those words sit in the air for a minute.

Do you find them humorous or haunting? What if I told you that I cut those words out, glued them onto a piece of construction paper shaped like a bomb, and submitted that for a class project?

I did not take my words seriously. I saw the poem as a harmless, ridiculous joke and nothing more. But it’s not difficult to imagine why my instructor was alarmed. Today, I 100% appreciate her concern. In the wake of too many terrible school shootings and teenager suicides, while I wish she came to me first about my poem, I’m glad she didn’t just brush my poem aside. Her eyes were open and her heart was in the right place.

After school that day, my mother and I touched base on the call she received from my instructor and my poem. After a brief chat, my mother understood (or thought she understood) my state of mind and my dark sense of humor. We laughed about it together. But, on a more serious note, I came to discover through the experience, the weight that my words carry and the very real impact they have on those who read them.

The Dark Knight

I’ve always been fascinated with the darkness around me. What makes people tick. Tapping into thoughts and ideas that frighten others...and sometimes even frighten myself. Sometimes, I’m way too curious for my own good. I won’t back down. I just enjoy too much sticking my nose in places other would say it doesn’t belong.... and bringing humor to what is otherwise taboo. People don’t always respond well to this. And occasionally, that bites me in the ass.

As I like to say, different people need to hear different things in different ways. As an extension of this idea, this experience taught me that maybe certain people in certain contexts do not need to hear certain things at all? And perhaps, not all my thoughts and ideas are worth sharing with anyone other than myself?

In the iconic words of Spider Man’s Uncle Ben: with great power comes great responsibility. Words carry with them tremendous power. I owe it to myself and those around me to, at the very least, consider the audience, the impact my words will have, and to always ask myself the question: what is it that I’m hoping to achieve? I didn’t put too much thought into my bomb poem. It was a creative writing class, after all. I felt it was safe to say anything. And I derived personal satisfaction from writing it. Had I put further thought into the poem, I imagine I would have anticipated my instructor’s response, not submitted the poem, and avoided the whole mess altogether.

Sorry, Mrs. K. I did not mean to alarm you! But thank you for teaching me an important life lesson!