Try to be one of the people on whom nothing is lost —Henry James
“We need your stories!” said my nineteen-year-old student to my three seventy-five-plus-year-olds sitting in the back of my creative writing workshop. The older students looked stunned when hearing this comment. One of them had just wondered out loud if their experiences of war, cancer, or youthful exploits would be of interest to anyone—much less worthy of a short story, poem, essay, or novel. Then, as if on cue, a few of my other younger students spoke up, saying they, too, wanted and needed to hear work from the older students’ lived experiences.
This was a dynamic moment in my class, but one that I have witnessed many times in various venues with diverse, multigenerational students. As a creative writing educator who has taught workshops and seminars to undergraduates, graduates, and community members for numerous years, I have observed how the power of a creative writing community can erase commonly held myths about writers and the writing life. But perhaps one of the most enduring myths is that of multigenerational disinterest—perhaps even disdain—between young people and seniors.
One reason why this myth continues may be rooted in how our society often discounts the perceptions, experiences, and opinions of both the young and the elderly. Perhaps between the impatient and stereotypical, Oh, what can you possibly know? response to the young and the wisecracking, Okay, Boomer, there is a landscape where individuals are rendered invisible, useless, and irrelevant. And maybe what I witness is how, in this landscape, youths and seniors stand in the gap and lock arms in their creative writing journey.
However, this journey was disrupted in both practical and psychological ways during the Covid pandemic. Isolation was the order of the day. People did not feel safe enough to physically gather. Technology tried to bring us together, but created its own kind of emotional distance. Fear, real and imagined, crept into our daily lives, oftentimes daring us to feel connected and hopeful. Our national crisis separated many of us from each other, exacerbating loneliness and depression.
But writers need community. My own journey bears witness to this statement. Over the years, I have been inspired by the energy, generosity, and creativity of my diverse multigenerational student writers. And these experiences in turn inspired my Academy of American Poets Laureate Fellowship project: “These Mountains Know My Name: Celebrating Poetry, Identity, and Place.”
The ideal creative writing workshop should provide a safe environment in which writers explore and experiment with various ideas, structures, and genres—and experience the support of serious individuals who, as one notable poet once said during a presentation to my students, sit down to write “with major intent.” This may be where the bridge between the generations is formed. This is the environment I hoped to create for my project. And perhaps the shared experience of the pandemic allowed for a deeper awareness of each other even as it provided material for new creative expressions. Based on written evaluations of my project, I can say that goal was achieved.
In the past, I have had students as young as sixteen sitting beside students who, by their own account, were in their eighties. In all, I have witnessed genuine friendships and creative exchanges grow and flourish from their shared experiences within the creative writing community. Both youths and seniors are curious about each other. They are intrigued about how each experience of time and place is similar to and different from their own. They are excited to see how it all gets translated back into creative writing endeavors. But above all, they respect each effort. They respect the work.
My wish for our creative writing community—indeed the hope I have for the outcomes of the project workshop—is to remember how vital our writing is to our culture. Poets and writers may not always have answers to the complex, often confusing, and sometimes cynical issues of our times. However, our creative writing efforts, in and of themselves, say “pay attention to this!” And in doing so, our collective human experiences are written on the heart of our society. The generations learn from each other. Our stories of family, as well as our responses to place and identity, foster an environment of inclusion. A communal aspiration for the love and craft of writing transcends differences. We find connection and community when we come together to share our experiences and perspectives. Stereotypes wither. Empathy grows. Poetry thrives.
Lois Roma-Deeley is the author of six poetry collections, including Waiting for the Mercy Ship (Broadstone Books, 2025). Roma-Deeley is associate editor of Presence: A Journal of Catholic Poetry. In 2014, the Dr. Lois Roma-Deeley Creative Writing Scholarship was established by Paradise Valley Community College (PVCC), where she had served as residential faculty and poet in residence. She also founded and directed the creative writing and women’s studies programs at PVCC. In addition, she served as president and founder of the Creative Writing Women’s Caucus. Roma-Deeley currently serves as the poet laureate of Scottsdale, Arizona. In 2024, she received an Academy of American Poets Laureate Fellowship. Roma-Deeley will engage youth and seniors at an “October Poetry Fest” through a generative workshop, poetry booth, poetry wall, and magnetic poetry board, as well as opportunities to interact with local poetry organizations and publishers. Since the 2020 pandemic, individuals have struggled with mental health concerns. This project will use the poetic process to help youth and seniors express themselves and strengthen their connection to—and place in—the community.