Not a Teacher, But a Witness, A Journey Into Community Outreach
By Stephanie Raffelock
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In 1990, while earning a degree in Writing and Poetics, I did my first community outreach through writing, working with a group of young women who lived at a place called Attention Homes—a name that played gently on the idea of "detention homes," but with far more kindness. These girls weren’t there because of wrongdoing or punishment. Most had been placed there by their mothers who were seeking a safer, more stable environment for their daughters.
My classroom was a dining room table. Around it sat young women, aged fourteen to seventeen. At eighteen, they would have to leave. Alongside attending school, they all worked part-time jobs and were tutored in life skills—how to budget, cook, manage a bank account, and navigate a sometimes unforgiving world. I was proud to be there, but that first experience showed me that “teacher” wasn’t quite the word that described what I had to offer.
Within a very short time, it became clear they weren’t impressed by my knowledge of poetry. I spent a sleepless night wrestling with the difference between being seen as a good teacher and offering something of value. The next day, I stopped trying to impress and started wondering—what might inspire them?
Poetry, I reminded myself, is a sensual art. It begins with sight. I brought in several decks of Tarot cards and laid them on the table. The girls eagerly sorted through the images, each selecting a card that resonated with them. I asked them to describe in detail what they saw. And they did—more readily than I expected. Then I asked them to write a poem or a story based on the imagery. I wrote along with them.
Unlike the first couple of sessions, when it came time to share, everyone wanted to read their piece aloud. And then it happened—something I’ve seen before at writing retreats and personal growth workshops: someone becomes the key that unlocks the room. One young woman wrote about standing on the curb in front of the home, watching her mother drive away. Her poem, filled with love and longing, cracked something open in all of us.
After everyone read their work, they turned to me. “Well…?” someone prompted. I picked up my page and read. In that moment, I wasn’t the teacher anymore. I was one of them. We had become a community, bound together by our stories. My heart has never forgotten those girls.
At the end of the semester, I typed up all of their hauntingly beautiful poems—dreams and visions captured on paper—and had the pages copied and bound at Kinko’s (remember Kinko’s?). On our final evening together, I handed each girl three copies of the poetry book they’d created. They, in turn, made banana splits to celebrate. It was a happy occasion.
That day, I knew I was not a teacher, but a facilitator. I still am. What that means to me is this: I share what I know, then step into the experience with others. I’ve since facilitated poetry, journaling, and storytelling workshops in prisons, halfway houses, assisted living centers, and programs like Dress for Success. Each time, the stories bind us. Each time my community grows.
Today, school budgets are slashed, teachers are overworked, and programs that once helped people rebuild after trauma are underfunded or gone altogether. But for writers, this creates a profound opportunity. Community outreach allows us to share our writing talents in deeply meaningful ways. It nurtures the soul, touches the world, and reminds us that we are not separate—we are connected by the human need to tell our stories and to be heard.
Special thanks to the women at Story Circle Network who inspire me, all of them brilliant facilitators in their own right:
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Stephanie Raffelock is the author of Creatrix Rising, Unlocking the Power of Midlife Women. She also penned the award-winning book, A Delightful Little Book on Aging and is the editor of the anthology, Art In The Time of Unbearable Crisis. A graduate of Naropa University’s program in Writing and Poetics, Stephanie has worked as a freelancer for The Aspen Times and The Rogue Valley Messenger. She has written and blogged for numerous publications and currently writes a weekly Substack, Creative Eldering.
Stephanie enjoys an active life in Austin, Texas with her husband, Dean and their Labrador retriever, Mickey.