“Not Really a Party Girl”
Cow Tipping Press and Strive Publishing Partnership
…Five weeks of vulnerability and joy with cow tipping press
The lovely spring day I received a voicemail from Cow Tipping Press felt like it was meant to be. Strive was partnering with Cow Tipping to develop the first class created specifically for Black writers with developmental disabilities. I was so excited to be teaching creative writing, something that had brought me joy from a young age.
Cow Tipping Press (CTP) teaches “inclusive writing classes for adults with developmental disabilities (over 400 alums and counting), offering students a radical chance to speak for themselves in a medium usually used to speak about them.” At the end of each class, students’ pieces are collected and published into their own class book.
We were supposed to begin the week George Floyd was murdered. While the murder of Black people has been happening since the inception of this country, for some reason this one hit me, and many of us, differently. I was undoubtedly not ready, mentally or physically, to begin teaching class on time. Rachel Lieberman, CTP Program Director, recognized this and gave me the space to begin a week later, and I was so grateful.
I still felt mentally drained when we began the following week, but was hopeful that this class would cultivate joy. I was right. The class ended up being small, which was nice for my first time: five students, plus Strive’s founder Mary Taris and volunteer, Chioma, for support. A small group of Black women, meeting every week for two hours, to write and know each other. Together and apart.
Usually these classes are done in person, but with COVID-19, CTP was teaching classes over Zoom. Though this presented some new challenges, the structure of the class remained the same: each session is set up with an ice breaker, a vocab word, and 3-4 readings with writing prompts. Some students need transcribing, but it’s suggested that teachers transcribe with everyone from time to time in order to create a new writing headspace.
We used breakout rooms during writing time, where everyone seemed to disappear one by one into a virtual far away, free to express themselves. Though encouraged to stick to prompts, students can choose what they write about. Getting thoughts down on paper is the most important part.
Every week a different genre is covered, from creative nonfiction, to poetry, to drama. I tried to pick readings that meant a lot to me and that I thought students would appreciate; most were found in my book collection. Authors like Ntozake Shange, Zora Neale Hurston, and Langston Hughes shaped our discussions. Prompts included, “If you were to write an autobiography, where would you begin your story?” “Personify an object in your room. What does it think, how does it feel?” “Write a free verse poem that sounds like a lullaby.”
After each writing session, which lasted about 10-15 minutes, students could share their pieces, sometimes reluctantly, sometimes excitedly. Tasha, sweet as could be, would always want to read hers aloud. I loved hearing what students thought of the readings, and how they interpreted the prompt. There was such a beautiful range of styles and passion in each of them. Most of the students were greatly interested in writing; two had taken multiple CTP classes, and one had published her own book. I was inspired by their voices and histories.
The title of the book, “Not Really a Party Girl,” was written by Mary Ayetey, a Cow Tipping class regular. That line came from a poem called “Is It Me or the Coronavirus?” The piece begins:
Is it me or the corona virus?
I used to be happy, mature, calm and nice when there were fun things.
But when I hear that there was a corona virus,
I feel numb. I feel immature. I feel snotty and different.
I love this poem for its honesty and humor. Mary was always very open and vulnerable with her emotions, and she can really make you laugh. Some other powerful lines from the semester include:
Ardella Hudson
People knew me before I knew myself. I had no idea of who I really
were I only knew who I was trained and taught to be.
.....We must
understand and learn from lessons and directions taught to us.
Shaunte Martin
a lot of people heard my message about
anyone has a disability can do this too
and achieve their goals
Tasha Feigh
And when you looked below it as you were the Queen of the world
because it was so tall and full of wonder
waiting to explore the magnificent things there is to see.
Dontrice Dalton
Rainbows and Angles
In my Dream Peace
Love and Joy Don’t
You awake me from my
Dream
At the time I was working at Hallie Q. Brown Community Center, a 91 year old African American nonprofit of the historic Rondo neighborhood. During the pandemic and uprisings the center had basically turned into a Costco for donations. I was leaving early one Tuesday, and as I walked away from a huge donation to go teach, my coworker jokingly asked, “You’re leaving? What do we need stories right now for?”
I could see the devastation in my Minneapolis neighborhood from the uprisings, but then there was my little class, in my little room, filled with wonderful writers: Mary, Ardella, Shaunte, Tasha, and Dontrice. Our never meeting each other in person didn’t make these connections any less real. I saw the healing taking place over the historical traumas, with the virus on top of everything that was already there—people with disabilities are always more isolated than those without, and especially during a pandemic. But you could find us in early summer, safe at home, reading our stories to each other; being loud when we needed to, quiet when we needed to, leaving when it was too much. Sitting in the uncomfortable of that sad summer and finding peace.
The direct service at the community center undoubtedly needed to be done, but I felt the stories our community could tell were inextricably linked to their basic needs, and they needed to be nurtured and shared. With every story, in every room on any day that you sit down with a keyboard, a pen, or a transcriber, you return back to yourself.
There was a beautiful moment of the summer semester I will always remember. One student was crying and feeling scared, so I stayed in a breakout room with her and asked if she’d like to listen to music.“I love music,” she said hopefully. So I played her the only song I had learned on guitar that quarantine spring and when I finished she exclaimed, “I loved your song!” with a big smile. She said she felt better, she said she felt okay. This student didn’t write anything down that day, but it read like a poem to me.
If you want to learn more about the students of this class, watch out for interviews Phoebe will be doing with some of her students about their experience with Cow Tipping and their journey as writers. You can order “Not Really a Party Girl,” and browse other Cow Tipping class works here: http://cowtippingpress.org/use-our-books/.