In a small gathering space in a cidery in Kansas City–separated only by an open barrier from the main dining room–a group of moms and their supporters did their best to project above the noise of the busy bar. Those up close could capture most of the words being read, but those in the back only caught a word here and there. Yet for everyone in that space, the sense of connection was unmistakable.
Even though not everyone could hear what was being read, every face was full of support and connection. They felt that each word being read was personal and important. Those gathered filled the space with complete validation. The moms in that space were clearly seen.
We didn’t know what to expect with our first off-site reading at the Association of Writers and Writing Programs (AWP) conference this year. We had hoped to get enough readers to at least fill the space with a bit of an audience. We did not expect to host over 40 writer-moms and their supporters, overflowing into the main dining room space as readers attempted to be heard over a persistent din. It was clear this space was needed. It still is.
This need to be seen was also shared by the countless mothers who stopped by our table in the less-charming, fluorescent-light-filled AWP bookfair. Curious mothers would stop and chat about shared experiences of parenting and writing. Inevitably, they would suddenly stop talking, clearly thinking about whether or not to continue. Then they would share something deeply personal, something that they like would not have shared at any of the other hundreds of booths in that cold, soulless concrete landscape of a conference center. And often, we’d end the conversation in a hug. Somehow, even in this unlikely place, this space breeds trust. Trust and compassion compelled a group of ten writer-moms to read from their beautiful and personal work, and the very same security led them to hug a stranger in the middle of the AWP bookfair.
As Carla, Rachel, and I reflected in the exhausted aftermath of AWP, we realized the power of simply creating space. We knew our retreats would be important to moms, but we had no idea just how magical, meaningful, and transformative this entire community could be. Certainly a lot of that comes with the intentionality with which we plan events, but the true magic seems to be within the mothers who come to this space. Together, you have created an open, honest, and connected community. Even at a two-hour event at a cidery where hardly anyone could hear the readings; even at a noisy table tucked into the back corner of an enormous event hall; especially in all the quiet moments between the chaos, we feel the magic because of you.
We have such gratitude for all the mothers who stopped by our table, the Scribente supporters who volunteered at the table, all the mothers who read at the “Write Like a Mother” reading, and all of the supporters who came to cheer on our readers. We are so grateful for this beautiful community, and we are excited to see it grow thanks to all our new and renewed friendships from AWP.
See you next year in Los Angeles!
Write for Us
We publish biweekly stories with regular content from our Scribente team about the intersection of writing and motherhood. We also feature stories from our community of writer-moms.
Your story does not have to be focused on writing or motherhood. We are looking for creative and lyrical essays and short stories. We especially want to see stories and essays that emerged from one of our writing retreats or other events. Stories should be no longer than 1,500 words, but if it feels right for the newsletter, we won’t dismiss a piece just because of word length.
Please submit stories to hello@scribentematernum.com.
It was so lovely to meet many of you at AWP! You guys had the best off site event ☺️