There’s a creepy path by my apartment building. It exists under an overpass, enclosed by claustrophobic metal gates, punctuated by odd little alcoves that seem to only exist as trash receptacles for careless litterers. Ordinary objects become haunting when they lie strewn under an overpass: an earless stuffed animal, a dirt-matted fleece, mysteriously warped traffic cones, half-eaten packets of crisps. Even though it looks like the set of an apocalyptic movie, and most would probably avoid it, I am fascinated by it. Each time I walk through, I’m excited to see what unsettling items might have been added to (or subtracted from) the collection. The other day, I had the thought that random details of my life here, like the creepy alley or the smell of my kitchen, are the details I don’t want to forget when I leave Belfast. Now that I’m over halfway done with my time here, I’m feeling sentimental about my rituals and routines. They are signifiers of this era, and I’m trying to maintain awareness and log the details so I can revisit them in my memory.

There has been plenty of variety in my work routine lately, which has kept me on my toes. We’ve been doing lots of offsite workshops, which means I get to explore new parts of Northern Ireland and meet a wider range of young authors. I really enjoyed a workshop we did recently with a girls’ college. I was nervous about how the dynamic might be different because they were older than the students we normally work with, but they brought so much humor and enthusiasm into the workshop. They had fun brainstorming silly ideas together and got really into writing the collaborative story. It had been a while since I last led storymaking, but this was a great group to jump back in with. As a bonus, it was also a sunny day, and I felt so rejuvenated on the bright road back from the workshop. Even though I’ve done a million workshops with the same format by this point, every group brings originality and freshness to the creative writing process. I don’t think it could ever get old!

Life has been busy busy, but here are some quick highlights. As sunlight has made its spring return with the turning of March, I have been taking lots of photos, with a special interest in shadows, reflections,  refractions, and all dimensions of light. One of my favorites is of a stained glass window’s wavy shadow. I’ve been finding relaxation in creativity: writing notes app poetry, singing with friends, discovering exciting new outfit combinations within my limited wardrobe, watching movies critically and carefully crafting reviews for my 7 Letterboxd followers to enjoy, and making elaborate packed lunches with plentiful colors and flavors. I’ve had lots of good social time, which gives me an excuse to try delicious and overpriced new treats like Slabz sandwiches and Black Sheep pistachio lattes. My friend Liz was in town over the weekend, and we had fun hiking, trying new spots, playing bingo, laughing lots, and catching up with mutual friends from Belmont. This upcoming weekend, my Aunt Heather will be in town, so the hosting fun continues!

The main thing I have been working on in the last couple weeks is creating our submission for the Irish Times spring edition! We have the opportunity to submit some of our workshop stories from the past year, and the editors also asked me to write a piece about my experience with Fighting Words! I had so much fun combing through our story archives for this project, and I got to read everything our young authors have written since last April. I noticed patterns, like how younger students often start their stories in the forest, and common motifs, like lots of characters named Bob. It was fun to see how young minds work and what common themes they write about over and over again. I loved all the stories, but had to narrow it down to just a few for us to submit for this year’s feature. I tried to pick a variety of age groups, story themes, types of schools, etc. I won’t give too much away about the piece I wrote, but I shared about what I’ve learned and how my perspective has been shifted by my experiences with workshop facilitation. I’m proud of the piece and excited to see it come out soon! We’ve also welcomed a new colleague at Fighting Words. Sorcha has joined us to work on a 3 year project called A Shared Agenda for Peace. It’s been lovely to have a new person in the workspace and Sorcha’s energy compliments our office dynamic quite well!

Outside of work, I’ve enjoyed a rich array of experiences and adventures. I was approached in an art gallery by a photographer who took some beautiful portraits of me, attended a Galentine’s themed book club while floating on the River Lagan in a barge, enjoyed nights out and in with friends, revisited favorite films and saw new ones (I was not impressed with A Complete Unknown), read feminist theory and beach reads on public transport, and hosted a dinner party (I had to use paper plates because I only have 2 real plates). 

Last week, my two best friends from Nashville came to visit me in Belfast! It was surreal and exciting to see their familiar faces in the streets that I walk every day. We took a trip to Geneva, Switzerland and Nice, France and it was nothing short of magical. When I think of the trip, I see a montage of so many beautiful moments that it’s hard to choose which ones to share. Even though we spent all of every day together, we still stayed up late talking every night because we just love being together. The trip was full of loud expressions of joy, quiet moments of rest, and steady friendship. My senses were overwhelmed with goodness: colorfully undulating dancers at the Carnaval de Nice Flower Parade, creamy burrata and fresh green pesto, cake crumbs in bed and giggles over a silly movie, salty sea air and panoramic views, softly smudged artwork, candy-colored buildings glimmering in the reflection of night water, ice cubes rattling in stirred peach tea, peacocks strutting across the sidewalk, fondue dripping on the table before reaching our mouths, gracious smiles at stilted French phrases. There’s no one I’d rather travel the world with than Megan and Alana. We are perfect trip companions because we share curiosity, positivity, openness, and an ability to go with the flow when travel inevitably throws curveballs. I miss them already and look forward to our next adventure!

Last week, I was unfortunately very sick. I don’t want to point fingers, but I know exactly who gave it to me and they are now my sworn enemy. I had to take two days off work, which was unfortunate because I hate missing workshops. They’re my favorite part of the job! This week, we had an incredible workshop with supported learning students. Their enthusiasm, support for one another, and wellspring of creativity made the workshop just perfect. One of their teachers shared that many of them were stepping out of their comfort zones, and that she was surprised and delighted to see them speaking up to share ideas, smiling and chatting with others, and reading their individual writing to the whole class. It never gets old hearing this, because it shows that the workshops can be an eye-opening experience for both the students and the teachers. Both become aware of just how much the students are capable of when they are celebrated and supported as writers. Other than the workshops, I’ve been working on a supplement for the Irish Times, which will include some stories from our workshops with NI schools and a piece written by yours truly. I’m very excited to share some thoughts on my experiences with Fighting Words and so grateful that they’re offering me this super cool opportunity to get my work published! I’ll be sure to share the link when it comes out. 

Outside of work, life has been full! Last weekend, I traveled to London. The day before I was supposed to leave, there was a terrible storm in Belfast with 100 mph winds, but thankfully my flight still took off right on time. The last time I was in London was in 2022 when I studied abroad with Belmont, so I felt sentimental revisiting some places and reminiscing on that formative time of my life. My fantastic experience abroad was what made me so passionate about living abroad post-grad! I made the genius decision to stay in a 33 bed hostel room, so that was certainly an adventure. What I did not account for in my grand plan to save money on lodging was the reality of having 32 people snoring, sleep talking, whispering, watching videos out loud, and emitting various odors throughout the night. Needless to say, I did not sleep well. 

My sleep-deprivation didn’t dampen my spirits, and I had a lovely mix of alone time and friend time. On Saturday, I met up with Elisabeth and we did what we do best: meander, chat, and enjoy delicious foods and sights. On our walk back from a coffee shop and the National Gallery, I was telling Elisabeth about my desperate craving for an authentic Italian sandwich and in a lightning strike of serendipity, an Italian deli appeared! We couldn’t believe our eyes, and believed that it must be a sign. We ordered sandwiches and practically skipped to the register to pick them up, but then disaster struck. The sandwiches, while delicious, made us feel terribly nauseous. Maybe it was to teach us to be careful about what we interpret as signs or maybe it was just a bad bit of salami, but it did make us giggle that these serendipitous sandwiches were ultimately the cause of our destruction. 

Back in Belfast, I’ve been enjoying moody mist punctuated by rare glimpses of the bluest skies I’ve ever seen. Spring is coming, and with it, more sunlight! I have now been here long enough to have friendships that feel familiar and comfortable– I’m out of the phase where I feel like I’m interviewing for friendships. It’s nice to have a solid base. Coffee dates, home cooked meals, ice cream and movie nights, coastal walks, and visits to new places are all made happier by the company of good people. I’m now about 4 months in, leaving 5 months until I go back to America. At my friend’s sardine-themed birthday party last weekend (awesome, right?), I had so much fun mingling and chatting with new people. It reminded me of how much possibility there is in my remaining time. I want to continue to meet people, try things, and explore with the same vigor that I did when I first moved here! Who knows what or who I will encounter next? 🙂 

Hello again! Once I returned to Belfast from my holiday travels, I eased back into my packed weekly routine while desperately trying to reset my jet-lagged sleep schedule. Last week, we had less workshops than usual, so work was very chill. Our Wednesday workshop was a highlight, because it was our fourth workshop with one of the classes we’ve been working with in our residency program. We adapted the workshop slightly to build on skills they have been strengthening throughout the program. For example, in a typical workshop, we verbally brainstorm character ideas and traits as a class. In this workshop, we gave them clipboards and encouraged them to write down their ideas individually before sharing with the class. Between our first workshop with the class and this one, there was a clear difference in the way they interact with each other, with us, and with the creative process. They have a new confidence in their abilities, speaking with boldness and excitement about their ideas and plans. A spirit of collaboration pervades the classroom, and while they are all passionate about their own ideas, they have developed their ability to listen to and build on each other’s suggestions. Even children whose ideas were not chosen for the collective story were eager to get involved with writing it. Fighting Words’s methodology focuses on valuing, respecting, encouraging, and empowering young writers; its efficacy is evident in what I have witnessed in these students. They have been taken seriously, celebrated, and nurtured creatively, and this has transformed their perception of writing and reading. They are excited to write and exchange ideas with their classmates. Storytelling is a fun creative outlet, not a drag or an obligation. I hope that this understanding will extend into the rest of their education and lives, because we sure need more passionate writers in this world. 

I’m still discovering new parts of Belfast all the time, but I’m also getting to a point of familiarity where I’m becoming a regular at my favorite spots. I went back to Cave Hill, where I hiked and experienced the sublime in my first weeks in Belfast. This time, it was snowy and majestic. Through divine luck, it was also sunny, so I got to see the city and water of Belfast sparkling in the afternoon light from my vantage point on McArt’s Fort. The visit was a poignant reminder of the passage of time– I reflected on the newness and apprehension I felt when I hiked there in October, and compared it to the comfort and sureness that I felt in January. The natural landscape’s transformation from verdant green to soft white parallelled the changes I felt in myself. It was a celebration of the different kinds of beauty and vibrancy life can hold. The green newness is still within me, but a swirl of snowy familiarity is in there too. I’m proud of how I’ve changed, and eagerly anticipating what the next season will bring. I hold tenderness for my past self and hope for my future self.

I hope you’ve all had lovely holidays! Mine was action-packed and super fun. I started out with some time at home in KY (which I talked about a little in my last blog post). Being home felt completely normal and utterly foreign at the same time. My time in Belfast felt like a distant dream as I coasted past my high school, sat in the pew at my childhood church, and ran into people I knew at the grocery store. Had I been gone for 3 months or 3 years? I couldn’t seem to make up my mind. I did what I always do at Christmas break: I went to the eye doctor, got a haircut, caught up with friends, relaxed with my family, stayed up super late every night for no reason, and ate lots of Christmas sweets. I think it felt different this time because I appreciated everything a little extra. I wasn’t originally planning on coming home for Christmas, but I found a really cheap flight at the last second and hopped on a plane. I had braced myself for 9 whole months away, then got a surprise trip 3 months in. Although I have thrived in the newness of Belfast, the familiar warmth of being home, with the people I love most, was a pleasant change of pace. I hugged them a little tighter and smiled a little bigger because their presence was an unexpected and needed gift. On New Year’s Eve, I played a silly board game and toasted to a new year with my family, and it couldn’t have been more perfect.

After my time in Kentucky, I went to Georgia to visit my extended family. We played pickleball and drank coffee on the porch, and I got to see real sun for the first time in months. My eyes didn’t even know what to do with all that light! I had fun chatting with everyone and hearing their terrible attempts at Irish accents. Then, I went to Nashville and spent my last few days with all my Belmont friends! Everyone’s lives have continued to change and grow like mine, but that puts no distance between us. So much can happen in 3 months– heartbreak, new opportunities, mistakes, successes– and we can sit down over a cup of coffee and connect over it all. Friendship is beautiful because we are constantly evolving into new selves, so we get to fall in love with friends anew each time we meet. I am just as in love with my friends as I have ever been, if not more! The belonging and depth of understanding I felt with them was an encouragement to continue building my community in Belfast. I know how precious and limited my time is here, and I want to deepen my connection with this city and its lovely residents. I have already found such fulfilment in being creative and silly with the young writers at Fighting Words, in drinking tea with my coworkers, in pleasant hellos with hikers on trails, in griping about core workouts with my fellow Boxercisers, in striking up chats with strangers, and in saying yes to every opportunity that presents itself. When I came back to Belfast, it felt like coming home. This city is becoming part of me, weaving itself into my hair and encircling my heart like a warm scarf. My brief time away only made me love it more.

One really cool program we have at Fighting Words is Write Quest. This fall, participants ages 13-18 completed a series of creative writing sessions, which culminated in a Story Slam in Dublin. This project was designed to foster cross-community collaboration between the North and South of Ireland, so young writers from Fighting Words Dublin and Fighting Words NI connected creatively: brainstorming, sharing ideas, devising prompts for each other (such as– write a story from an unexpected perspective), and swapping their writing for feedback. Halfway through the sessions, the Dublin writers came up to Belfast to meet their NI counterparts. They trash-talked each other’s Tayto (a popular brand of chips that has slightly different recipes in the North and South) and remarked excitedly that the price of Monster energy drinks is lower in NI. The cultural exchange was animated, lively, and invigorating for our young writers, and they had lots of fun thinking, talking, and writing together. After completing the rest of the sessions and putting the finishing touches on their writing, the Belfast writers traveled down to Dublin for the Story Slam, where they read their work aloud to an audience. I went as a chaperone, and enjoyed watching the familiarity and friendliness between the two groups as they prepared for the Slam. Before the big show, we had a practice round where the young people shared short clips of their work to get warmed up for the full audience. They cheered each other on and calmed each other down, counteracting nerves with positivity and supportive comments. By the time the Slam came around, they were amped to go. One of our writers wanted to share a script, so another chaperone and I read as the characters in the scene. We gave it our all, getting fully into character for the dark and intense scene. I could tell it meant a lot to the young playwright that we took his work seriously, and I was glad we got to participate in such a unique way. We are now waiting for our Oscars. After we got back from the trip to Dublin, I reflected with the other leaders about how encouraging it is to see the massive amounts of talent in the up and coming generation. They’re so creative, thoughtful, earnest, and hilarious, and they bravely shared that with an audience of total strangers. I am inspired by the vulnerability required to create good art– it is wonderful to give your all to something and then put it out there for others to enjoy. 

My last weeks in the office were full of fun, Christmas-y things like a used book exchange, plenty of tea and cake breaks, some very silly storymaking workshops, and a lovely staff party at a nearby brewery. The office is closed for a few weeks around Christmas, so I’ve been enjoying a proper break. I kicked it off with some crafts and Christmas movies, did some Christmas Boxercise, taste-tested the fare at the Belfast Christmas market, performed in my women’s choir’s Christmas concert, then finished my time in Belfast with a lovely potluck dinner with friends. Then, I flew back to America for Christmas! I’ve been enjoying the comforts of home: reunions with good friends, Olipop, Mexican food, CheezIts, family walks, driving my car and belting to my favorite songs, watching the National Mullet Competition on cable TV, milling about in Target, basking in the glow of our Christmas tree, and playing the piano in my living room. It’s nice to be home, but I’m already missing Belfast! I am officially ⅓ of the way through my time there, and I am looking forward to all the fun and learning that lie ahead. Merry Christmas, everyone!

Eleri x

In the past couple of weeks, I have had some truly magical workshop experiences at Fighting Words. The children have come alive with imagination, contributing brilliantly original ideas like an evil chicken nugget man with a French fry army and a water bottle who’s terrified of the dark. Throughout my time here, I have been training to become a workshop leader, and the last step of that training is learning to be a storymaker. While all the elements of the workshop are crucial to execution, storymaking is a delicate process that can make or break the workshop. The storymaker is in charge of assisting the class in writing a story line-by-line. The children are the authors of the story, but the storymaker is their guide through the writing process. A good storymaker makes the task look easy, but it requires a vivid imagination, quick wit, and endless patience. I was nervous for my first attempt at storymaking, worried that I wouldn’t be able to think quickly enough or guide them in building a cohesive plot. However, as soon as I stepped into the role, I felt an overwhelming sense of confidence and competence. I kicked off the collaborative writing time by recapping all the ideas the class had come up with for the main character, their greatest wish, greatest fear, and best friend. I reminded the children that while we knew this information about our characters, our reader didn’t know anything yet. I suggested that we could begin our story by describing the characters and giving some background, or we could start right in the action and explain the context as we go. Past stories have opened with dialogue, or a walk in the forest, or crazy lore–there’s no one right way to do it! You can read some of the stories we’ve written on the Fighting Words website. In observing the other workshop leaders for months, I have developed a sense of how to shape stories without curbing creativity and how to coax ideas out of a child who has lost their nerve. Now that I am a storymaker, I can lead all parts of any workshop. I look back at my tentative participation in early workshops, where I operated as typist or feedback giver, and see vast growth in my current understanding of our ethos and processes which enables me to adeptly lead fun, enriching workshops for the children. After the children leave each workshop, there is a palpable buzz in the room. Staff, placement students, and volunteers feel the glow of being in a space where creative freedom reigns. It is rare and special to find a place as ridiculous, whimsical, positive, and encouraging as the Fighting Words workshop space. I wish all of you could experience it with me!

A couple weeks ago, I traveled to Bournemouth to visit my friend (and fellow Lumos Traveler) Elisabeth for Thanksgiving. We cooked a big meal together: a cheese board, honey-glazed salmon, balsamic brussels sprouts, rosemary parmesan mashed potatoes, and homemade pumpkin pie were on the menu. We shared the meal with her host family, and we all went around the table and shared what we were grateful for. While it wasn’t my usual Thanksgiving crowd, I felt so much warmth and gratitude laughing with them, lingering to have seconds even though we were full, and sitting next to their life-size cardboard cutout of Keanu Reeves.

We spent the rest of the weekend taking day trips, visiting Oxford on Saturday and Bath on Sunday. One thing I love about traveling with Elisabeth is that we take it slow. We stopped to admire trampled, but ever radiant ginkgo leaves on the ground, wrote silly poems line by line on a riverside bench, had multiple coffee/tea breaks each day, enjoyed destinationless wandering, thumbed through books at the coolest bookstore ever (Topping Book Co), made friends with a cool dude running a vintage shop (shoutout to Alfie and his awesome hat), crafted acronyms out of our names (the E in Elisabeth stands for eggs, scrambled), and shared memories of past visits. 

What I’m about to say is not a new, or revolutionary thought, but it is an idea that has taken me a while to fully internalize. On past trips, I have felt a pressure to “maximize” or “make the most of” my time in a place– to see the sights, check the boxes, run on the vacation treadmill until I can barely walk anymore. However, so many of my best travel memories are from conversations with strangers and friends, not from snapping the same photo of an iconic landmark that millions of people already have in their camera rolls. Landmarks aren’t always inherently significant; the people who built, inhabited, and loved them are what give them history and meaning. Trip Advisor says the Radcliffe Camera is a must-see icon of Oxford, but it matters to me because the cafe beside it sells my mother’s favorite scones. Trip Advisor would probably not mention Regent’s Park College, but it was at the top of my list because I got to see the old bay window where I sat and read every morning in the summer of 2016. As I travel to new places, with friends or alone, I am seeking landmarks like those. The spots that reveal a city’s character to me are sometimes the tourist highlights, but they are more often a hand painted door, a well-placed bench, an outstanding cappuccino, a busy square on a Saturday morning, a chatty server, a one-of-a-kind sweater in a charity shop, a gifted street musician. These are the moments that I miss if I’m glued to an itinerary (although I still very much enjoy itineraries, don’t get me wrong). I keep my eyes wandering, my mind open, my ears attuned to music, my nose sniffing out local delicacies. When my senses lead the way, it is impossible for a trip to be wasted. 

Hello everyone, I’m excited to share some updates on work, travel, life, friends, and vibes. 

I’m enjoying all my projects at Fighting Words, but the residencies program has been a major highlight as of late. Throughout the year, we will complete six workshops each with classes in three different schools. In completing our second and third workshops with these schools, we are becoming familiar with the students and class dynamics, which means we are able to witness their evolution in real time. Our last two workshops have been focused around portals, world-building, and travel, which feels very relevant to my current experience. I even got to play an explorer character, complete with binoculars and “old” treasure maps that I spent ages meticulously cutting up to give them a well-worn effect. The young people had brilliant ideas, like an island built on a giant turtle’s back (with waves caused by the turtle’s flippers and earthquakes caused by its heartbeat). The originality and wonder that children bring to the workshops inspires me to bring that same wonder to my own travels and new experiences. Anything can be a portal if you treat it as such!

I have been portaling all over the place in the past two weeks. I flew to Madrid, Spain to visit my friend Lydia and Elisabeth came over from Bournemouth. It was restorative and encouraging to be with old friends in new contexts. All three of us graduated from Belmont this spring and moved to a foreign country alone this fall. We shared the struggles and triumphs that come with establishing yourself in an unfamiliar place, like searching for meaningful friendships, learning how to be a pedestrian amidst completely different road rules, navigating local slang/language barriers, moderating homesickness, and leaning into the exhilaration of utter independence. Lydia and I have traveled extensively together (we studied abroad together), and it was so fun to be back at it. The three of us (joined at some points by Lydia’s friend, Ryan) explored Toledo and Madrid together, cracking jokes at the art museum (my favorite context for situational comedy), scarfing down multiple orders of patatas bravas, pointing out every gorgeous mansion as a potential candidate for our timeshare, discussing the inherent sacredness of ancient cathedral architecture, sipping drinks on cafe patios in the most leisurely manner, nodding our heads in time with the beautifully spontaneous music and dancing that erupted in the street, and having multiple rounds of goodnights and giggles before we finally fell asleep each night. 

One of my favorite moments happened when we went to the park on Sunday morning. Elisabeth and Lydia were running 7 miles, and I simply don’t have that ability, so I spent an hour wandering the park by myself. After being in sun-starved Northern Ireland for almost three months, I had forgotten how healing powerful sunshine could be. The fire-colored trees draped their branches down towards the water, dogs pranced gleefully down the sidewalk, vendors set up candy booths, tourists paused to take videos, old men sipped coffees from takeaway cups, a run club stampeded through the main area, a saxophonist breathed a melancholic melody, and rowers raced across a large pond. The whole world was lit up. Parks restore my faith in humanity– there is just something so pure and good about people living their lives separately, but in synchronicity. Normalcy is infused with meaning in these spaces of togetherness. 

Back in Belfast, things are getting quite festive. The whole city has put up Christmas lights and Christmas sweaters abound. Last week, we got our first snow while I was out walking by the river. The flakes melted into my hair and eyelashes and painted my cheeks with rosiness. When I got back, I put on my soft flannel pajamas, brewed a cup of tea, lit my evergreen-scented candle (don’t tell my student housing), and watched The Holiday while the snow flurried frantically outside my window. I love winter, especially here. I’ve embraced the misty mornings and cherished the brief snaps of pale yellow sunlight, baked cookies to put over vanilla ice cream, watched pigeons cuddle on a bench, lept over puddles that looked like sky portals, chatted for hours at the Sunflower Public House patio, walked and thought on the Lagan Towpath, watched Wicked at the cinema, and sipped on steaming soup with friends. I have observed a sense of proactive nostalgia, feeling an overwhelming tenderness towards even the most mundane experiences, because I know that I will one day look back on them fondly and wistfully. I mark my happiness with conversations, photos, and writing, because I want to be as present and reflective in this period of my life as I can. On this Thanksgiving Day, I am very thankful for the life I’m living. 

We are in the midst of a very busy season at Fighting Words. In the last two weeks, I have completed my first two workshops as a Workshop Leader. As a Workshop Leader, I sent info to volunteers, assigned roles, completed the briefing and tech check, led the debrief, and handled administrative tasks like logging info in our database and saving the illustrations from the workshop. It was a lot to remember, but I felt ready to take it on because of the support and encouragement I have received from my colleagues. Marnie, who is in charge of my training, has given me the leeway to decide my own training schedule, but is still guiding me gently through the course. Sam, another workshop leader, always reiterates that I can ask him to repeat instructions as many times as I need, which I appreciate infinitely. As I have gone through the training process, I have made edits to old training materials and even created new ones to make it easier for future workshop leaders to learn the ropes. My favorite of those is a document where I drafted silly questions that character builders can use to help children develop their character ideas during workshops. The list includes questions such as, “What does this character eat for breakfast?” and “Do they have any weird or unexpected hobbies?”.

In addition to workshop leader training, I have officially begun my interviews for the case studies I’ll be writing on Fighting Words volunteers and workshop participants. This week, I met up with a rapper named Benji, who started out as a participant in our Young Playwrights program and has recently led a Fighting Words workshop of his own. Throughout the interview, he reiterated how crucial his experience with Fighting Words was to his trajectory as a writer. The facilitators were the first people to take him and his art seriously, and that gave him the confidence to keep practicing and putting his work out into the world. Our conversation was a beautiful reminder for me of just how life-changing our work at Fighting Words can be. By inviting young people into a space where they can be themselves, exercise creativity earnestly and without judgment, and receive guidance and affirmation from adults, we can open these children to a world they may never have previously imagined. Time and time again, teachers and students alike are shocked by how much the children enjoy and excel at writing stories. Once freed from the rigid rules and expectations of the traditional classroom setting, students are lit on fire by an enthusiasm for storytelling, writing, and sharing. They are empowered by the knowledge that this skill has always resided within them. The concept of creative writing shifts from a burden to a passion. It is so fulfilling to watch this happen right in front of me– some students start out their individual writing time feeling dejected about having no ideas, but after a few questions from a Fighting Words mentor, they get inspired. Sparks light in their eyes and they’re off to the races, ideas spilling from their mouths faster than their pencils can move. The magic starts in our workshop, but it follows the children back to their classrooms– many continue writing the stories they started with us and retain their newfound enthusiasm for using their imaginations to create. 

Ok, enough work stuff. There have been so many life highlights over the last couple of weeks. As much as I have learned to love my independence and alone time, I am still an extrovert at heart. I have felt overwhelmingly grateful for the moments of friendship I have shared with new and old connections– a fall-themed vegan feast with Faith and Cian (we each brought a course), a night frolic at the dock playground with Natasha (we were disappointed by the slide’s lack of speed), a goofy songwriting session with Elisabeth and Adam (‘Cortado’ out on all streaming platforms soon), a study date at a cool coffee shop with Noelle (we were surprisingly productive!), late night phone calls with Megan and Alana (the 6 hour time difference will not stop us from chatting for 4 hours at a time), a lovely Italian dinner at Villa Italia with Sarah and Kai (with tiramisu for dessert, obviously), a night out for Halloween with Katie and Elisabeth (we all threw costumes together at the very last second), and mushroom soup and Monopoly Deal at Gracie and James’s house (it was so cozy to be in a real home, not student accommodations). 

I have felt the first pangs of homesickness this week– I think wistfully about stick deodorant, Taco Bell, the sun, night drives, and time spent with people who already know and love me well. However, small comforts like well-timed phone calls from home, Trader Joe’s Dark Chocolate Peanut Butter Cups (brought back from America by my lovely colleague, Aoife), and a weekend in Belfast with Elisabeth Moss rejuvenated me with little familiarity energy-bursts. I have learned that my mental sky does not have to reflect the one outside (which is usually gray), and I have begun the practice of reflecting on my internal weather report at the end of each day. Much like real weather, the mental forecast doesn’t stay consistent all day, but there are always patches of sun or peaceful mist. I’m comfortable holding space for all of my emotions, not just the pleasant ones. There is something so beautifully human about experiencing full-body emotion, allowing it to course through my veins, leak into my writing, permeate my perception. I do miss the sun. But even when I can’t find it in the sky, I am searching for it within my heart. Here’s a poem I wrote about it: 

Hope melts down from the sky

Golden patches fall on

The sun’s favorites

An ivy-strewn bank

An upturned face

She visits, 

But never lingers

We are grateful anyways

I’m writing this blog post on the bus from Dublin to Belfast. My previous bus from Galway was late, so I only had 2 minutes to catch the one I’m currently on. Isn’t travel exhilarating?! 

Work at Fighting Words has been great for the last couple of weeks. I am slowly learning each of the components of a workshop leader’s role, and I’m doing my first practice run of some of those administrative roles next week. I have also begun a very exciting new aspect of my job, where I will get to put my  love of stories and prior work experience to use! Fighting Words’s 10th Anniversary is coming up next year, so my supervisor has asked me to interview some past participants and volunteers about how Fighting Words has impacted them! I’m eager to hear their stories and exercise the old writing muscle. I’ve also had the last week off work, since schools are out for Halloween break (why don’t we have that?!).

I’ve made good use of my time off, visiting Dublin, Galway, and the Cliffs of Moher. Dublin is such a unique city— the vibes there felt completely different from Belfast. It still has the beautiful historic buildings that the rest of Europe does, but it also has a modern, artsy feel. I loved the Dublin Portal, which has a screen that shows live footage of identical portals in other cities around the world. I was traveling with some friends, and we had fun waving to the people on the other side and sharing a brief moment of connection with people we otherwise never would have crossed paths with! Some other highlights were getting licked by a deer at Phoenix Park, filling our stomachs until they were about to explode at Milano, and stopping to enjoy some truly spectacular street performers (my favorites were a jazz duo and a graffiti artist). 

My trip to Galway was my first overnight solo trip, so it was a big milestone for me! I had an amazing time in Galway—it’s definitely my favorite trip I’ve taken since I got here. I made a list of places to visit, but also left plenty of time for wandering. Traveling alone is such a liberating experience. If I think a vintage shop looks cool, I go in. If I have to pee, I stop to find a bathroom. If a random person strikes up a conversation, I engage enthusiastically. I’ve noticed that traveling alone has made me more open and attuned to the people around me. Because I’m not in the travel bubble with anyone else, my head is up and my eyes are wandering. Solo travel is a practice in awareness. I catch hilarious bits of conversation, notice the swirling moods and expressions of the people walking past me, smile at the child dancing to street music. There is a connectedness that comes from having nothing and no one to distract you. 

That is how I started both of my nights in Galway alone and ended them with new friends sitting at my table! On the first night, I went out in search of live music, preferably traditional Irish music. I stopped in 5 or 6 pubs and lingered for a song or two, before continuing my exploration. I landed at The Quays, sipping a pint of Bulmer’s and tapping my foot to the beat of the gifted guitarist’s musical expressions. Before long, two girls came up and asked if they could join me at my table. We struck up a conversation and talked for the rest of the night, exchanging travel stories and getting to know one another (one was from Switzerland and one was from Iceland). I felt instantly comfortable with them, sensing an affinity with the two young women who also enjoy solo travel and the spontaneous interactions that come with it. The second night, I met some girls at my hostel and had dinner and drinks with them, once again feeling delighted by the ease of quick community. The next day, at the Cliffs of Moher, the fog completely obscured the view, but I didn’t even mind! I had so much fun watching everyone giggling to themselves about how silly it was that we came all this way and paid money to stare out into a deep gray abyss. We gave each other knowing glances as we snapped photos of nothing and shrugged our shoulders good-naturedly. I love those moments of wordless connection!

Back in Belfast, I’ve also been having lots of great social and cultural experiences. I finally have some established friendships, and I’m getting to the point where I can just hang out with people without having to prove how fun and cool I am. That being said, I’m still remaining open to any new friendships that come my way! Having cool friends has opened me to cool experiences. I tried Turkish eggs at a nearby brunch spot, shopped at the Asia Supermarket (snack heaven), made personal apple pies with Bramley apples grown in a church member’s backyard, attended a book launch at Queen’s University, watched the fall leaves dance at Ormeau Park, and took in the sensational music, words, and lights of the North Star show honoring Frederick Douglass’s legacy. 

Being in such a colorful city has made me feel very creatively inspired. I’m writing poetry, snapping photos, cross-stitching, singing in cathedrals, and glimpsing art in even the most ordinary of objects. The release from academia has made me more eager to write, think, and create than ever. My reflections lead to evolutions and I feel like a new version of myself each time I publish one of these blog posts. As I’m finishing this post, Halloween fireworks are launching in the Belfast sky outside my bus window. There’s no place I’d rather be. I’m glad I’m me and I’m glad I’m here! 

Eleri x