Meaningful Feedback

[Chuck Stromme]

Feedback. We need it and we fear it. Often enough we don't mind giving it, though. There is something of a rush to unloading on another hapless writer. Good feedback? Well, can't get enough ego strokes, can we? This is a story about some feedback I received.
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I know a woman named Emma in the Republic of Georgia. Beautiful, wonderful woman who was a Red Army combat operating room nurse in WW II. It is insufficient to say that she is an impressive woman. I am limited by my inability with words.

One conversation we had, maybe a couple of years ago, has stayed in the front of my mind every day since. I couldn't get it out of my mind though to her it must have seemed like the plowing of old ground with a foreigner who wouldn't understand anyway, a throw-away chat.

This past fall I finally wrote about that conversation in "Emma's Story -- 1". I'll post it here one of these days but this isn't a set-up for what I wrote. Heck, this isn't even about Emma. This is about feedback and how what you write can have effects that you can't imagine.

Yesterday Emma's granddaughter Ioana called me. Ioana is a colleague at CCRFund and a close enough friend that I think of her as one of my two Georgian daughters. We're that close.

Ioana told me she had translated my story and read it to Emma. And to husband Lio. And then to all her family and friends. She said they cried. She said what I wrote added something important to their family. She said that Emma approved.

I had worried a lot about that last one. Emma is a fine lady. What if she thought I was making fun of her? What if she thought I'd ambushed her or embarrassed her? What if I got it wrong? I did get some of it wrong. What if I can't write well enough?

Where I'm going with this is that any of these fears could have stopped me from writing her story. They DID stop me for over two years but eventually I just had to say something. I'm really glad that I did. My reward is going to be that we spend some time together in Tbilisi this Jan. - Feb. and I get to learn more of her incredible story. Believe it, I won't wait two years to write about her again.

That's the wind-up, here's the pitch: Don't wait to write those stories and poems that are spinning around in your head. Don't wait to ask someone "Would you tell me about... ?" When something occurs to you or moves you or intrigues you, write about it. You'll hate yourself if you miss an opportunity. I've missed too many myself and I hate that. I'm trying to do better. Put it out there and see what happens. Maybe nothing, but maybe you'll add something to someone's life. Maybe you'll make someone cry that you actually took the time to write.

"Emma approved." Good enough feedback for me.

Chuck

[Edythe Stromme]

Amen to that! It doesn't get any better than having your subject approve of your interpretation or their story. WriteOn
Edythe

[Chuck Stromme]

More ramblings on this topic.

My good friend Dr. Bob was a battalion surgeon with the 96th Infantry Division during the Battle of Okinawa. The entire battle, mind you. He went ashore with the second wave (the first wave that included doctors) on Love Day (think D-Day), Easter Sunday 1945. He did the whole thing, from the landing to the Shuri Line to the end and after. It was more horrible than we can imagine. Cliff said "You should take advantage of that. It's like knowing someone who was at Gettysburg."

Bob told me about his battle and showed me his pictures. Bob was a true Renaissance Man. Photography was just one of the things he knew pretty much everything about and he had lots of pictures. Knew everything up until a certain point at least, at which he lost interest. He had an 8mm army combat photographer's film that one of his buddies (now gone) either liberated or traded for on the island. He explained it as we watched together. Imagine, an un-viewed Okinawa battle film. It's fascinating.

I always intended to get Bob's full story. It was worthy of the telling. Bob was one of those guys who was going to live forever so no great hurry, right? Wrong. Bob died last July without me ever getting the sit-down interview and accompanying video that I had imagined all those years. Years. I had years to do it but I failed.

Cliff was right. He's right a lot. I should have... but I didn't and that chance won't come again. I can only hope to see Bob again in the great bye and bye and apologize. Bob was one of the real good ones.

There are lots of reasons to write. Recording history is just one of them. Telling stories and writing poems, that's why WriteNow! exists. The other reasons -- for instance, it's fun to write and to exchange thoughts -- are secondary to the idea of getting you to write something.

If you know someone whose story needs to be told, please tell it. Tell it to us here, preferably, but just tell it in writing. Tell us your stories. Edythe is writing about her early life. I hope she'll share it here. It's not easy to write and it's not easy reading and sharing it won't be easy either. It needs to be told, though.

If you're thinking of a poem that has been nagging at your consciousness, write it here. Got something to write that might entertain kids? Stop dragging your feet and write the darn thing. Just write what's on your mind. That's all we ask.

The next time someone says "Yes, I fought at Okinawa..." or Hue or Gettysburg or Fallujah or "I was there when Dr. King gave that speech" or "This is what I thought when the Challenger exploded" or you see something that needs a poem, stop and write about it. Tell the story. Give that person, event or time a life beyond the moment. I let my friend Dr. Bob down by not doing that. He deserved better. Don't make the same mistake.