a modern-day Breakfast Club

Last night, as pens and computer keys tapped out a quiet but constant patter amidst the bookshelves and walls of my Monday night writing workshop, I realized that our students are like a modern-day Breakfast Club. They include (in my opinion) a nerd or two, a jock, a few rather eccentric ones, and a handful of pretty normal, happy kids—though putting a modern twist on it, they are "normal" in the context of a variety of different social and ethnic classes. And though a varied bunch, they get along great. After almost nine months of coming together weekly from places as different as Walnut Creek, Daly City, Marin County, and numerous San Francisco neighborhoods, this bunch of teenagers who seem to have only two things in common—their age (mostly between 13 and 15) and their love of writing—have clearly jelled quite well. That is not to say that they'll all be inviting each other on summer vacation; but by now, they know one another well—at least as writers—and I find the level of acceptance among them as a group astonishing.

As tutors, we've had occasion to want to throttle or kick out one or two of them; but the students have never shown animosity toward each other; they have never outwardly made social judgments. There are no cliques (just, perhaps, two developing relationships). There is no dissing. No matter how weird some of them may be (and trust me, some of them are), no matter how immature or clichéd some of their writing may be, these kids have bought into our notion of the happy sandwich (which requires any feedback to be given in the order of positive-critical-positive), and they've tended to really like everything one another have written. They seem, in fact, predisposed toward thinking positively. And I think that's really something, given all the horror stories you read about kids outcasting each other on myspace—and worse.

Unsurprisingly, our students are free with the criticism when reviewing submissions from unknown writers; and they're certainly not all masters of being particularly useful in their critiques (some of them will never get beyond, "Yeah, it's cool." or "I just like it."). But they show great respect—great comaraderie—together. And perhaps that's because, despite the fact that they are coming from all walks of life, they are coming to us to do the same thing; on top of that, they're doing it with talent. Many of our students are superb writers for their age; and almost all are eager to write, willing to listen, and thrilled to be pushed to do even better. Most of all, they seem to soak up the opportunity to be around—to just sit beside, do their writing alongside—other teens who are into this too. And to our delight, they seem to really like working with writing tutors. Most of us have been paired up with a particular student for the entire year; we've developed into writing teams, and perhaps it's that dual social situation—of establishing themselves a place in a peer group at the same time as a role in a partnership with someone of a different age and experience level—that helps keep the tenor of our weekly sessions so upbeat. Perhaps it's the uniqueness of what we're offering them combined with its perfect fit for their passions. Perhaps they are really lucky to have this shared writing space, and they know it, and they treat it right. Perhaps we are just as lucky, for it's really something to commit your time to a pursuit of someone else's and have it go so well.