We’re writing food commentaries in my college composition class, inspired by Geetha Kothari’s “If You Are What You Eat, then What Am I?”
This is a group of lovely mostly seniors. While I type this, they furiously finish their drafts.
We started class with a list of lessons we can take from Kothari’s piece, and stopped on using symbolic elements of the food. I tried to use the example of mashed potatoes.
“So, if we are using mashed potatoes to symbolize a relationship, let’s think about the type of mashed potatoes we’re dealing with. Now there are those smooth, perfect mashed potatoes, peeled of course--or those chunkier potatoes with the skins on. This is the kind I make because I am lazy.” I neglected to mention that I prefer them as well.
Nearly all the students grimaced. Apparently they are not into rustic smashed potatoes.
“Okay, so if this relationship is symbolized by smooth and perfect potatoes, what would you assume about it?”
Alex pipes up, “They’re good!”
I get defensive. “My potatoes are good, too!”
“Made with care and love!” another student pipes up.
After a feigned exasperation, I break down the symbol that was living in my head, redeeming my own potato choices. And by the end of the impromptu routine, we are all laughing and ready to write.
The keys are clicking; it is silent. Joy and vulnerability in a writing room cannot be overemphasized.
