Beth Finke Master Class

Supplement to your Memoir Teacher Masterclass Course

If you are a blind or visually-impaired person who is thinking of leading a memoir-writing class, you have come to the right place.

A little background

I lost my sight when I was 26 years old. 15 years ago, the City of Chicago’s Department on Aging offered me a job leading a memoir-writing class for seniors. I did stumble at first, but it wasn’t too long before my class became so popular that the Department on Aging had to run a lottery to choose who could get in. These days, my adorable Seeing Eye dog leads me to six classes every week. We meet in people’s homes, at a senior living center, at an urban Episcopalian church, and at the Chicago Cultural Center.

So I’m here to tell you that you can do this. I understand the challenges. If you’re interested, reading my latest book, Writing Out Loud: What a Blind Woman Learned Teaching a Memoir Class to Seniors will give you an idea of those challenges. Spoiler alert: very few of those challenges had much to do with my blindness. They had more to do with my lack of confidence.

The information that follows will give your confidence a boost. You can learn from my experiences – and mistakes.

My method for leading classes works equally well with practiced writers and writers who have never taught or written about themselves before. People who are blind or can’t see well will do *especially* well leading classes the way I do, as my method relies on strong listening skills.

Getting there early

Go out of your way to be in your seat and ready before your students arrive, especially on the first day of class. Many of your students may have never known a person who is blind or visually impaired before, much less had a teacher who can’t see well. Whether it’s fair or not, fumbling around to find your seat the first day of class might confirm all their stereotypes. Students appreciate teachers who have their act together, and by giving yourself extra time to get settled, you’ll look like you do!

Guide dogs

If you use a guide dog, getting the dog settled under the table (or at your feet, if you are teaching in someone’s living room) will help prevent the goo goo eyes and petting that adoring dog lovers might give your dog otherwise. Even if your dog is not distracted by goo goo eyes and petting, don’t allow people to do that in class, as it may distract the attention of the other writers. In my method of teaching, it is very important that everyone in class pay attention and listen.

I never let my Seeing Eye dog wander free during class out of respect to writers who might be allergic to or afraid of dogs. I leave the harness on while my Seeing Eye dog sits still for class rather than letting her wander free. If you’d prefer taking the harness off, I suggest you put your dog on a tie down near your feet.

How to conduct a class (thumbnail version)

  1. At the beginning of class, I announce the prompt for the next week and give the writers time to write it down.
  2. I pass around the pouch of Scrabble tiles (one of each letter in the alphabet). That determines the order of presentations. “Who has the letter A? Cheryl. OK Cheryl, you’ll go first.” A friend who has adopted my method to lead her own class uses playing cards instead of Scrabble tiles, or of course you can just write numbers on scraps of paper.
  3. Each essay has a 500-word limit so that every single person in class has time to read their essay out loud during the hour-and-a-half we are together.
  4. Use a timer rather than a talking phone or Braille watch to check the time. I bought a timer with Braille markings on it from Future Aids Braille Superstore, but timers are also available on smartphones. If a reader finishes before the timer goes off, use the leftover minutes to discuss and ask questions about the piece.
  5. If the piece is too long, when the timer goes off, it’s over, and I go to the next reader.
  6. I listen intently to each writer and always come up with something positive to say about what they wrote. I may make a few comments citing particular things I enjoyed or thought were well-crafted. This is where good listening skills come in. Writers do not pass around copies of their essays in class – I figure if *I* can’t read them in print, no one else can, either. People often feel like no one pays attention to them anymore, no one cares what they have to say. During my classes, we *all* are listening to what each and every writer has to say – each writer gets their five minutes of fame in my class. Their classmates often follow suit.
  7. Then we go on to the next letter of the alphabet. Who has B? Who has C? etc.
  8. When everyone is finished, I repeat the prompt for next week.
  9. Before they leave, I remind the writers that if they want me to make editing suggestions, they must email their piece to me by midnight 3 nights before the next class. Good to have business cards with your email address to pass out.
  10. When I get home, I email them all with next week’s prompt, too, just to remind them.

How I edit using my screen reader

Not everyone takes advantage of my offer to edit, but for those who do, I have a very simple method of emailing edits to them.

When I edit, I put anything I think can be deleted {in brackets} and any suggestions, additions or comments IN ALL CAPS. I remind writers that my suggestions are exactly that: suggestions. If they like what they’ve already written, by all means, they should stick with that.

I do my best to get essays back to writers in time for them to look over the edits and make whatever changes they want to before reading the piece out loud in class.

I only allow one round of edits.

What to do if someone comes to class who can’t write? Have them dictate their story  and then transcribe it for them when you’re home.

Prompts

Each week I give a new prompt. There is a bit of a knack to this. You will want to come at subjects sideways, allowing for many different ways to interpret the same question. That always makes for a more interesting class.

I often create prompts from current events or time of year.

Here is a good prompt I came up with before the holidays one year:
“Write about one thing you really, really  wanted when you were a kid. It could be a thing (a bicycle), or an ideal (you wanted your parents to get along). Did you get it, how did you feel when you got it or didn’t get it?”

A poor prompt would be one that would encourage a lot of sameness in the essays, such as “My favorite teacher.” I also avoid prompts that not everyone can participate in, such as “My first baby.” (I have many writers who never married or never had children).

Class size

It’d be great to limit your class size to eight people. My classes have become so popular that 15 to 18 people sign up. That’s a lot, but I hate to say no! Not everyone shows up for every class – writers succumb to illnesses, or they travel, or the weather prevents them from coming. Keeping the class size small gives everyone time to read and still keep everyone’s attention.

Having a member of the class act as your assistant

In order to establish my role as class leader, I never ask writers to assist me with class tasks. If someone comes up on their own to offer to take on a certain task, however, I consider it. Writers who enjoy keeping up with each other outside of class have asked if they can gather email addresses and phone numbers to share, and I’m happy to let them. That class member often takes on the added responsibility of  contacting everyone during our weeks off to remind them its time to sign up for the next round of classes. That saves me time.

A longtime member of the class I’ve been leading for 15 years enjoys setting the timer for each reading, and I enjoy having her do that for me; it leaves writers regarding her as the “bad cop” if  the timer goes off while they’re reading, a sign their essay was longer than 500 words. Warning: I let a writer in a different class set the timer for a while, but had to take it back from her when she started giving herself more minutes than she allowed her fellow writers. Be careful out there!

Leaving when class is over

Even if I don’t need assistance exiting the room at the end of class, I ask for someone’s arm. Walking arm in arm gives me an opportunity to talk one-on-one with different students each week, and more often than not these short walks reveal something about them I might not have known otherwise. Walking arm in arm can be comforting to someone who has read a particularly poignant or difficult essay that day as well. It honors them, shows them you care, plus provides them with an opportunity to help someone else. Helping others makes people feel good.

Dealing with people who are too helpful

If you can stand it, allow them to help. You don’t necessarily have to let them do the thing they offered to do, though. Example: I don’t want anyone helping me get my Seeing Eye dog Whitney settled under the table, so if someone asked to do that, I’d thank them, say no, and then ask them to do something I don’t like doing.”Can  you walk around and get everyone’s email address for me, though?” If they say yes, it saves me bothering with getting the email addresses. If they say no, they’ll learn not to ask to help me with other things, either!

Why this works well for visually-impaired teachers

One of the best bits of feedback I get is how well I listen. I have a positive comment to say after each reading; maybe it had a fine turn of phrase, or a nicely-evoked emotion. I listen intently and am not distracted by looking at the paper, reading ahead, or by all of the other goings-on in class (texting, whispering, searching around in purses). I realize that maybe not everyone is paying attention, but I focus on the reader exclusively. They seem to appreciate that.

Shameless plug

My book Writing Out Loud is available in Braille and in audio format from the NLS Talking book program (https://www.loc.gov/nls/braille-audio-reading-materials/) and at audible.com

I hope this outline has answered your questions. Please let me know how your course goes – I look forward to hearing from you. You are in for a real treat.

Keep listening,
Beth