Trifles – Save the Creative Writing A Level

So this poem is in response to the Creative Writing A Level, which is under threat of being axed. Creative Writing has been a huge part of my life ever since I was 6 years old, and has always been around to help me through the ups and downs since then.

I was the kid who was always writing. I would write in school breaks, on the school bus, in the car, on the bus, in the train, on a plane… and it hasn’t stopped (except, well, in school or the school bus).

I ran Science Fiction writing workshops at schools, which seemed at the time like a doubly hard sell. The students found it hard to believe that they could write Science Fiction, but were so excited to have time out of their busy school routines to explore words creatively.

As such, they were worried about making mistakes, or that things weren’t good enough.However, with the right encouragement, we ended the session with them reading out their work to the others. They even wanted to continue writing into their break time, just like me as a kid all those years ago!

We need diverse voices and experiences. They need encouragement.

Here’s the petition to Save the Creative Writing A Level:
https://www.change.org/p/nicky-morgan-mp-save-the-creative-writing-a-level

Thanks!
Suzie x
—————-
Here’s the transcript of the poem:

Trifles
——–
We were left cravings for outlines
Carvings to define us
Inflating membranes that took time, sublimed and hardened us
The mould’s USP meant to blend, not bend nor break,
Disallowed to deviate from
Our life’s training, to believe
That our work was not our own.

But to embellish the frames of works from years before,
Scoring and polishing,
Unencumbered for a life time of pleasing percentages
Parentages to ensure our past generation’s successes.
We locked away papers in drawers,
Bottoms of pages, unable to blossom in the scraps of air and light
Clawing through the ageing rubber stripes of book bags
Lined paper resigned to copy from, remark and replicate
Instead of creating tokens of our forms, from our lives
Learning the rules without a chance to break them,
Finding issues without a chance to forsake them
An unrequited romance
Seen as flights of fancy
In small doses to remedy whatever creative urges we had
To strive for artistic acts was seen as wasteful, stifling progress,
Allowed as mere trifles for decoration,
Awaiting judgement on the sidelines
Whilst the main quest, pursuing the thirst to attest to
The peaks of numbers for computers to nurture,
Conquests of transient tests that promised no return on departure
To churn out that we never learnt to
Remember or Apply.

We were left cravings for outlines
Carvings to define us
Inflating membranes that took time, sublimed and hardened
The mould’s USP meant to blend, not bend nor break,
Disallowed to deviate from
Our life’s training, to believe
That our worth was not our own.

Making sense of sense data, no time for unpacking the density in Arias of arts and sciences,
What more can we do
Life rife with rules anthropocentric,
Yet art was not seen as intrinsic
To the way we see ourselves and others.

How we can save and change our worlds,
Creating lines that break our confines to a world that has been Carved beyond recognition from years ago
That these blinkers have been reduced to paint by numbers, Following
Templates without contemplation.

We were left cravings for outlines
Carvings to define us
Inflating membranes that took time, sublimed and hardened
The mould’s USP meant to blend, not bend nor break
Disallowed to deviate from
From our training, to believe
That our world was not our own.

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