Our World in Words
Niamh Friel
As a child, you are told anything is possible, that the world is your oyster and the sky is the limit. As you get older, you are told to sit down, face the front and listen but when you are a writer, this act of obedience is more like a punishment.
Young minds are not designed to be constrained and as a young girl growing up in Dalmuir, I was fascinated by the world around me, which meant I was constantly writing stories and everyone from family to primary school teachers encouraged me to continue with it.
Yet when I entered high school there was nowhere for me to put my words.
While my peers were spoiled for choice in extracurricular activities and boundless career opportunities, I was limited to the creative writing in English class and the brief interlude of Burns poetry for one week a year.
Little did I know, this was a sign of things to come.
Life is full of hard pills to swallow, none more so than for the budding creative to be told that you are on your own because there is no one who knows how to nurture your dreams.
You’re great at writing speeches, you should go into politics!
Broadcast journalism is a viable career path
Writing is great and all…but you need to be realistic
The weight of expectation is a heavy burden for any young person, never mind for those of us that are fuelled to pursue gifts that fall outside the container of a system that was never built for us.
They say that ‘you are always one choice away from changing your life’, that ‘God works in mysterious ways’ and when you’re least expecting it; and one day, as I was passing the school library:
Free poetry workshop with Miko Berry , Library @ Lunchtime
Ironically, until then I hadn’t spent too much time in the library but as I sat down at this roundtable, I felt the world wash away.
I looked round at the faces either side of me, some familiar and some not and before me, a man with jet black hair, a ripped striped sweater and chipped black nails - someone who looked like me.
In the weeks that followed, the library became my save haven, the faces became familiar and a world that I never knew existed had emerged in the most unlikely of places.
Each of us were given an A5 notebook, a pen and a chance as we were taught a myriad of writing techniques and different ways to apply them in a medium known as spoken word poetry.
Towards the end we were given the opportunity to perform in front of each other, even those who were the most shy had the heart to stand up with their newfound courage.
For the first time in my life, there came a sense of validation that I too could make a living from my passion and that it wasn’t just a pipe dream.
It was this small act organised by our school librarian that confirmed there was indeed a way for me to pursue my career as a writer and although nothing grand came of it immediately, it was the lasting impact that has served as a guiding light when the world around me tells me to abandon my craft.
However, the world has a way of convincing you otherwise.
The winter of 2023 rolled around, five years after graduating high school and completing a degree in an entirely unrelated field because I had eventually bought into the lie that I’d never make a living as a writer.
I graduated with severe burnout and felt utterly directionless because everything I had tried as an alternative to writing had left me feeling empty and, despite my vow to reconnect with writing after graduating, the uphill battle of getting published only fuelled my despair.
That was until one of those rare moments occurred again.
Would anyone be interested in submitting their poetry for an anthology? Comment if you’d like to join.
At that moment, the words of Wayne Gretzky flashed through my mind: ‘You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take’ because even in an endless sea of Facebook posts, you never know what could come of it.
I sent off my high school poems that were collecting dust and returned to my day, although I couldn’t ignore the spark that had begun to re-ignite inside.
Two years later and the second global anthology of The World in Our Words sold out in less than a day, but I often ask myself, what would have happened if those workshops hadn’t been available?
Because it was those series of workshops that planted the seed, which would later sprout into those two global poetry anthologies.
Support for the arts has always been an afterthought but the impact of the arts, well that is something we just can’t live without.
While the world is rapidly changing, the needs of young people have not - they are still as creative and full of ideas just waiting to be heard.
Be it a library or an empty classroom, never underestimate the power of these spaces for young people and it is thanks to those at Clydebank High school who held this space for us that we were able to discover a part of ourselves we did not even know was there.