I wear a lot of hats. I have a lot of names. To some, I am Mrs. Crews, teacher of Classic Film and Bible and The Diary of a Young Girl. To others, I am Coach, of girls lacrosse. To my brother, twelve years my junior, I am Sis, or Poophead. I am a daughter, a wife, and a mother.
I love my bicycle. The adventures shared with my bike feed my independent spirit and my connection to nature and solitude. I still mourn the loss of my beloved sea green Schwinn, stolen from an apartment parking lot four years ago. It’s been replaced physically, but one doesn’t ride 32 miles and 22 miles on a whim and not miss the connection formed between girl and bike.
I adore my car. A silver Subaru Forester, a gift for my sophomore year of college and still my daily companion today. I’d probably choose my car over my cell phone. Someday I’ll write a story about my car.
I crave the outdoors. Camping, campfire smoke, bacon, fresh pine, and damp soil fill my senses and feed my soul and deeply connect me to my Creator.
Above all, the thing that has remained most consistent in my life since Ms. Martin gifted us with Writer’s Workshop time in the second grade, is that I am a Writer. On some occasions, I have been an author, published with a byline, but mostly, I am a Writer. I journal, having filled up 25+ spiral notebooks since I was twelve. I wrote poetry and short stories in high school, regularly published in the Literary Magazine.
College was a fabulous time of personal growth, but Academia tends to kill Creativity. Creativity is so easily explored in childhood and so easily undervalued and overlooked in adulthood.
Thus, here I am, on the far side of college and on hiatus from teaching, on the brink of motherhood, returning to my first passion, and aiming to carve out that Creativity again.
Thank you to my Creator for instilling in me a desire to touch the world with words, and thank you to my husband for recognizing that and opening doors for me.