Last Week Reminded Me Why Storyknife Exists

This note will break all the rules of the end-of-year fundraising. It’ll be too long and too personal. But as we enter into a season that is centered on gratitude, I find myself wanting to tell you about how that manifests for me and Storyknife.

This past week, the person who holds the highest office in the United States pointed his finger at a respected woman reporter and said, “Quiet. Quiet, Piggy.” And I suspect that I reacted like a lot of women who have been shamed and silenced in work and in personal relationships; I was livid. I’m not sure what’s an appropriate amount of anger for the situation, but let’s just say in the lingo of younger generation, I was triggered. I spent a lot of time walking in the cold weather and trying to calm myself. I have not been very successful.

Each cabin at Storyknife has a journal in which the writers leave a note for whomever will stay next. The journals stay with the cabins, and other than the writers, the only folks who ever read them are sometimes the staff. This year, because fundraising has been so challenging, I thought reading them would bolster me in my efforts.

As I read them last week, I could feel myself see-sawing between a thawing gratitude and a stiffening steel. Sure, there are plenty of suggestions about where to find the cutest neighborhood dogs, best sticky buns, favorite meals. Also, directions on how to arrange the desks to get the best views and how to see the most moose. But what I found echoed over and over is gratitude and relief. Finally, a place where these women writers not only felt cherished but felt free to listen to their own stories and their own rhythms. Rest if you need it. Read the books left behind by the writers before you. Eat as many chocolates or brownies or leftover soup as you want to. Write through the whole night. Dance and lift weights and take walks and talk with your cohort and love yourself. 

So yes, gratitude. I feel so thankful that I get to work with these amazing women (the writers in residence and Maura and Katie and the Storyknife Board). I feel such gratitude that I get to see the many moments when the writers’ eyes are shining because their work is flowing. I get to remind them how important their writing is. How they will change the narrative.

And that steel comes from my decades of being told and watching other women be told to be quiet, seeing them be disrespected and brought low. Storyknife stands for the opposite – Shout your stories! We lift you and we respect you! We want the very best for the writers and their writing. We want to celebrate them in every way. And I know that I speak for myself and Maura and Katie and the Storyknife Board when I say we are committed to keep providing the opportunity for women writers to have the space and time to devote to their work. We are committed to creating this place that will hold them even after they go home.

Some more gratitude. Grateful also for the individuals, foundations, and businesses that support the women writers of Storyknife – who choose to give a financial contribution in this time when so many are asking. The writers of Storyknife couldn’t spend this precious time devoting themselves to their work without the support of so many people. Because of you, we will keep saying to the writers, your story is important. YOU are important. We will shout it and sing it and fold it into beautiful meals and flowers by the bedsides.

Hey, during this hectic holiday season take some time to read a poem or essay or memoir or novel or short story written by a woman. You’ll be grateful, too, for the way the world widens under their pens. May we all rejoice in their stories. May we all be made bigger with their generosity. 

Sincerely,
Erin