Sample Student Memoir

 

Discussion Topic: Sample Student MemoirSample Student Memoir

By My Side 

 Tell us where all this took place

Softball has been in my life, through thick and thin, brought me my favorite people, some amazing coaches who are always doing what is best for me, and even formed a new relationship with my mom, as she was my coach for most of my life. All of these things have taught me tremendous loss, great happiness, and summers that I will never forget. Each year a different team, a different group of girls but all of them have some sort of impact on my life. I started playing travel at 10 years old, this was one of my most impactful seasons. It was my very first year playing competitively. We had a winning 10-0 season all summer and made it to the championship game of the league. We were losing 1-0 in the bottom of the 6th inning, I was up to bat first, all the pressure was on and all I remember my coach saying was “Just have some fun kid, do what you do best”, and that is exactly what I did. I hit a triple down the right field line starting a rally at the beginning of the inning. Following my at-bat, we had a ground out to score that run and then a double, followed by another single with a bobbled ball. We won that game 2-1. I started that rally and it is one of my fondest memories. My very first coach, an older gentleman with a scruffy beard, glasses and always wearing some sort of baseball cap and a softball t-shirt,  still brings it up every single time I see him, no matter how old I get. Right at that moment, I knew I had loved the sport.  

Everyone has a memory or has grown through a sport, it seems to be pretty common. My story is pretty much the same as everyone else, I grew up playing with the same people, made lifelong friends and some amazing memories, and worked through all of my issues through my sport. The end is where things change, I am no longer the player I once was, I have changed for the better and realized that I am just more than softball, mostly due to recent events, but I still have grown up through something that has changed my life.  

For as long as I can remember, softball has been an essential part of my life, more specifically I have been playing since I was 6 years old. I started playing for fun, like every other kid at that age, along with other sports like soccer, gymnastics, and a little bit of golf during the summers. Eventually, I realized that softball was the only sport I truly enjoyed and wanted to play. I stopped gymnastics and soccer and chose to play softball all year round. I chose to play travel softball that same year, one of the most life-changing decisions I had ever made. I was 10 years old so I had no idea the decision that I made. Looking back little me would be so proud of the fact that my entire life was changed because of the right decision. Now, softball is slowly falling out of my life, which is devastating to little and current me, but it is just another life lesson taught to me by the sport that has given me the most amazing people. Everything happens for a reason, this is just another one of those things that happens and I will continue to grow and survive through. 

As the years went on, teams changed, coaches changed and so did I. I got better every single year, constantly advancing my game, persevering through all of the “Sorry I can’t hang out I have practice”, sometimes these even cost me friendships later down the road. I became out of touch with a lot of people, most of the time because I had practice, no one truly understood the commitment I had. My best friend through all of high school, Victoria, a brunette, sometimes blonde, who was with me through everything was one of those lost people. Before we left for college, last year we had quite the argument. She was angry because I did not spend a lot of time with her, while also juggling a part time job, boyfriend, all of my other friends, family and on top of all that softball. We had hung out enough for me but apparently not enough for her. We lost touch for a while and are now slowly rekindling the bond we once had. But this was all because I was constantly training, improving my game, which she did not understand the level of commitment I had. All of those one-liners will always be worth it in the end to me. I “lost” summers due to constant travel and constant playing, but they were not lost to me, they were the most memorable. Whether it was just traveling to Connecticut for a single tournament with some of my best friends or traveling to New Jersey and going to the Jersey Shore with those same best friends or even Pennsylvania for a few tournaments. I grew up with these people, most of the time the same people I started playing with. Eventually, we all grew up and parted ways, but not after playing 5 memorable and winning years together. Yes, most of my summers were spent down the fields, but I would not have it any other way. 

Not only did I grow with my best friends, but I grew with some of the best coaches. My mother was one of them, and Coach Pete. Coach Pete has tan skin, with a scruffy beard and is the painted picture of a softball dad. Always wearing softball shirts and either sweatpants or sweat shorts. Most of my coaches dressed the same, a picturesque softball dad and/or coach. He is always going to be the most impactful person in my softball career. He was always there for me, staying after practice or working with me before working on my game. Ironically, I hated him at first because I was used to one specific coach for a couple of years, but then he grew on me and eventually became like my second father. He always lightens the mood, does not sugarcoat things and most of the time is making fun of me for something I said or did. He is truly like a second father to me and helped me through some of the most difficult times in my life without even realizing it. He saw me in the early mornings at 5 AM for many 8 AM games (most of the time blaring country music, three songs specifically, “House Party” by Sam Hunt “Wagon Wheel”  and “Alright, both by Darius Rucker ), even saw me when I caught four 4 games in a row in 105-degree heat, watched me grow through friendships and relationships, and helped me grow into the person I am today. I don’t have one specific quote that has made a lasting impression on me, there are way too many things to put into words. One of the most memorable would be “then do it”, most of the time this was referring to some sort of drill, but ironically it became more than that, it became something I heard in the back of my mind when I was doubting myself or when I wasn’t sure if I was making the right decision. Coach Pete will always be my coach, even as I grow older, he is always there for me through my ups and downs, he is Coach Pete and will always be.  

Coaches can have a large impact on your sport and how you feel towards that sport. After Coach Pete, I had a different coach. She was a heavyset tall dirty-blonde haired coach who always wore her hair in some sort of ponytail or bun, she was most likely coming from her nursing job after a 12 hour shift. Like all of my coaches, she wore a softball t shirt or polo and shorts with sneakers.  She was not like Coach Pete at all and had a completely different coaching style, for the worse. This specific coach challenged me to be the best player I could be, and it worked. I put in a lot of extra time and effort to become the best version of myself during my recruiting process. Unfortunately, this specific coach did more than just push me to be the best version of myself, she pushed me to the point where I almost gave up on softball. She had made my life miserable, and I did not realize the impact she had on me until after she was no longer my coach. I was the best player I could be, but I did not love the sport anymore. She would constantly tear me down saying things like “ That missed call was on you Lys” or “you need to be copying me” (even when I was copying her signs exactly as she called then). She would even say things like “with your size and amount of muscle I expect you to hit bombs, not line drives and singles”. Looking back at it now, I know she wanted what was best for me but it was not kind of her to publicly say these things during games, it only tore my confidence down, eventually causing me to break down and not be at my fullest potential going into college.  All of my lifelong friends  switched teams or stopped playing completely  because they did not like her. It was just me and three other players who were left in our last two years of travel softball after playing with most of these girls for 5-6 years. This coach pushed a lot of players away and even pushed me away. I no longer loved a sport that had once been my entire life and still was for the most part.  

This past year, after I realized the damage the coach had done to me, I grew more than I had ever grown before. I eventually loved the sport again and continued to practice almost every day. I came to Endicott last year as a Freshman, who was not recruited but was very willing to walk on. I tried out last year but did not make it due to roster size. My dreams of playing college softball were crushed. I did not give up or go down without a fight. I had talked to the softball coach a couple of days later, and I became the team manager for the season. I helped out where needed and became friends with most of the girls on the team. I was very excited as we ended the season with a conference championship and a run in the NCAAs. I was looking forward to a summer of hard work and practice. I put in the work, and I practiced almost every day, with a couple of weeks off when my grandfather passed. I was determined to make this team, for myself, but also for my grandfather who never got to see me make my dreams come true. I came into this year very excited and determined to give my 150% effort every day to make this team. Unfortunately, that was not enough. I truly believed I was going to make the team this year, but I was mistaken. It was not because I was not good enough or I did not put enough effort into it, at least that is what the coach had told me, it was once again because of roster size. I once again was devastated.  I have been playing this sport for the past 14 years of my life and for all of it to end so suddenly has been so incredibly painful. I wish I knew the last time I stepped on the field might’ve been my last time. I have been going through so many emotions, but all I can think about is the little girl who won that championship all those years ago and how proud she would be for the person who does not give up easily. I have been trying to wrap my head around what will happen once I decide to step away from the team, not being the team manager this year and going without any sort of softball in my life for the first time in 14 years. My emotions of sadness, disappointment, and even a little bit of anger are overwhelming me. I do not know what is going to happen next but I am very excited for a new adventure.  

Softball is and will always be the biggest part of my life. Softball has brought me so many memories and I will continue to make memories, even if I am not playing. I will be coaching this year for the first time and I cannot wait to work with girls who are so excited to play and learn the sport as I once did. My love for softball has changed over the years, whether I love it or not it was always there for me when I needed it the most. It brought me closer to my mom, my best friends, and the best coaches, and memories to last a lifetime and I hope I can bring that to a little girl who is doing the same thing I once did. I hope to be someone else's “Coach Pete” and make a lasting impression on someone, no matter what has happened to me or the fact I am not playing college softball. I never gave up, even if I am not playing and I want that message to be heard and seen by these younger players. I want all of these players to remember to “do all the things” as my mom always says and have no regrets about their love of the sport. I have no regrets when it comes to the sport, no matter what happened softball was always there for me, it taught me life lessons I will never forget and made me the person I am today.

more dialogue.....

Memoir exercises

 

Brainstorming and Memory Recall Exercises

Memoir essays draw from your personal experiences, so the first step is to tap into your memories. These exercises will help you uncover potential topics and details for your essay.

• Memory Timeline: Create a simple timeline of your life, starting from your earliest memories. Mark major events, both big (moving, graduation, a significant trip) and small (a specific conversation, a first pet, a favorite teacher). This helps you see the narrative arc of your life and pinpoint key moments.

• Sensory Recall: Choose a memory you've identified on your timeline. Close your eyes and recall it using all five senses. What did you see, hear, smell, taste, and feel? Writing down these sensory details can make your story more vivid and engaging for the reader. For example, instead of writing "I remember my grandmother's house," you might write about the "scent of her cinnamon rolls" or the "creaking sound of the rocking chair."

• Freewriting: Set a timer for 10-15 minutes and write continuously about a specific memory or theme without stopping to edit or correct yourself. Don't worry about grammar or structure—the goal is to get your thoughts and feelings down on the page. This technique can help you overcome writer's block and discover unexpected insights.

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Narrowing the Focus

A memoir essay isn't a life story; it's a slice of life. These exercises help you find the specific, compelling story you want to tell.

• The "Why This Story?" Question: For each memory or theme you've brainstormed, ask yourself, "Why is this story important?" What larger lesson, change, or realization did it lead to? The answer to this question often becomes the central thesis or theme of your essay.

• "Show, Don't Tell" Practice: Pick a moment you'd like to write about. Instead of telling the reader what happened (e.g., "I was sad"), practice showing it through actions and dialogue (e.g., "I stared at my shoes, my shoulders slumped, unable to meet his gaze."). This makes your writing more impactful.

• The Object Exercise: Choose a physical object that is significant to a memory. Write about the object and what it represents. This could be a photograph, a childhood toy, or an old book. The object can serve as a powerful symbol and a tangible entry point into your story.

The French Connection

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ncWxtpXn3gA

Red Letter Poem #250

 The Red Letters

 

 

In ancient Rome, feast days were indicated on the calendar by red letters.

To my mind, all poetry and art serves as a reminder that every day we wake together beneath the sun is a red-letter day.

 

––Steven Ratiner

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Red Letter Poem #250

 

 

 

Valentine to Jimmy Piersall

Even if you hadn’t cracked a hundred homers

and rounded the bases backwards,

even if your mitt couldn’t reach

from the starstruck green of center field

straight up to Mars

to snatch fly balls from the sky,



I would have loved you.



Because you feared no one. Because

when your chest pushed up against an umpire’s

words did not fumble in your mouth

but hurled like a stream of tobacco spit.



I was small, had yet to find my voice.   


––Susan Eisenberg


There is a reason we create grand statuary––and place them high on pedestals, above the ground we mortals walk upon. We elevate these expressions of the extraordinary so everyone will have to lift their eyes to see them, their glorious heads haloed by sun and sky. These days, true heroes (and, to be clear I’m referring to towering figures of any gender; the term heroines has come to have a diminished stature of late) are an increasingly rare commodity. In this encompassing media landscape, it seems we quickly begin uncovering their flaws and failings even while the marble or bronze is being unveiled. Some even suggest that people first exalt their heroes so that, subsequently, they can have the pleasure of tearing them down. But the societal need to discover and spotlight our champions––those who are born with extraordinary gifts, or work diligently to perfect their skills, or stand with an unswerving commitment to some enduring principle: this is quite an interesting thing to consider and is brought to mind by Susan Eisenberg’s delightful new poem.



In our cultural climate, sports figures are often accorded the hero’s laurels; but Susan is recalling a simpler time (before mind-boggling half-billion-dollar contracts, and ESPN fanfare.) She’s celebrating the great Jimmy Piersall who signed his first baseball contract with the Boston Red Sox at age eighteen and, in 1950, was one of the youngest players to ever play the game. (I should add that Susan, a Cleveland girl, first saw him play during his time with the Indians.) Piersall became an All-Star center fielder but excelled at the plate as well (he still holds the Sox record for garnering 6 hits in a single nine-inning game.) Yet his behavior often extended beyond the capricious, becoming erratic and sometimes violent. He would get involved in brawls, on and off the field, which led several times to minor league demotions. Still, his career spanned 17 years, playing for five teams. But one of his most lasting impacts came with the publication of his memoir Fear Strikes Out; in it, he revealed that he suffered from bipolar disorder and had experienced a mental breakdown––but determinedly fought his way back to health and the sport he loved. This was at a time when sports figures kept such ‘dark’ secrets hidden from the public, but Piersall’s honesty helped so many suffering their own double lives.



Susan, you may know, is a poet and retired electrician; she’s the author of five poetry collections, most recently, Stanley’s Girl (Cornell)––as well as the nonfiction (and New York Times Notable) book, We’ll Call You If We Need You: Experiences of Women Working Construction. When I first came across her poetry, I was impressed how her verse often celebrated the blue-collar working experience in a country not always appreciative of its labors. But now Susan is also a visual artist, oral historian, and a Resident Scholar at Brandeis Women’s Studies Research Center––which, to my mind, begins to flirt with hero-status. Her poem today touches on Piersall’s gleeful on-field antics. Not surprisingly, this felt thrilling to a young girl who might not feel so free to express what was curtained off inside the mind. “Because you feared no one. Because/ when your chest pushed up against an umpire’s/ words did not fumble in your mouth...”. The possibility that authority might be defied and unbridled individuality expressed––this was, perhaps, the first liberating poem seeded in Susan’s consciousness. And its relevance today is underscored by the news story just unfolding from a current Red Sox outfielder, Jarren Duran. He revealed in a new documentary that he was almost broken by his sense of failure and, in 2022, attempted suicide. We are overjoyed that he was unsuccessful––not only because he has since become a marvelous player (voted MVP of the 2024 MLB All-Star game), but because the emotional courage he is displaying today will likely save other lives.



All this makes me think of the friends of mine suffering devastating illness, or acting as caretakers for spouses struggling with debilitating conditions. It brings to mind all the artists I know who persist in producing new instances of beauty and delight, even when the world seems determined to ignore them. And still others, determined to stand up for our democratic republic when dark forces are attempting to shatter its ideals. Heroics, Susan reminds us, come in many unexpected forms, and have an effect on people which no one could have anticipated. ‘Finding our voice.’ These, here, are my modest statues built of ink and breath. Am I wrong to think that––right now, dear readers––your minds are serving as their pedestals?

 

 

 

Red Letters 3.0

 

 

* If you would like to receive these poems every Friday in your own in-box – or would like to write in with comments or submissions – send correspondence to:

steven.arlingtonlaureate@gmail.com

 

 

* To learn more about the origins of the Red Letter Project, check out an essay I wrote for Arrowsmith Magazine:

https://www.arrowsmithpress.com/community-of-voices

 

and the Boston Area Small Press and Poetry Scene

http://dougholder.blogspot.com

 

* For updates and announcements about Red Letter projects and poetry readings, please follow me on BlueSky

@stevenratiner.bsky.social

and on Twitter          

@StevenRatiner

 

And coming soon:

a new website to house all the Red Letter archives at StevenRatiner.com

Interview with Patricia Smith

 https://www.google.com/search?sca_esv=24968dc17584cdb5&rlz=1C1UEAD_enUS1131US1131&sxsrf=AHTn8zpZ-z8RLI56ej1F9wx6_WlhAXHWoQ:1744192614849&q=Interview+with+poet+Patricia+Smith&udm=7&fbs=ABzOT_CWdhQLP1FcmU5B0fn3xuWp6IcynRBrzjy_vjxR0KoDMnbkfvm4jW0eza52i_Pv0GH8kQLzw_tSVhAdOi8ZE2uV1CrM0GGnyDomWk23OCwh0zAuWEqxI0s1iXshesdjUYyrk36o6LoBZFCrgtG3Ugak4eUP9QWY-4EYGOGvNs_qFAKQV2aZX6pt7-xLWbDSnSTiSCzrtpSy0E3jxVHn9AW8paegCw&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwj4lenp18qMAxUMvokEHWNxALQQtKgLegQIGRAB&biw=1536&bih=695&dpr=1.25#fpstate=ive&vld=cid:9e6b1915,vid:odjUt1LKyxQ,st:0

Metaphor poem

Lost in the City


The city is a sea of faces,
Each a ship, adrift in spaces.
I am a leaf, caught in the breeze,
Carried away, with no ease.
The buildings rise, like giants tall,
I am a whisper, lost in the thrall.

Marge Piercy

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VYEEkPOBcro