Week 8 Blog Post

CW: Child Abuse

Özge Samanci’s Dare to Disappoint is a compelling story, that it feels almost wrong to call it “creative nonfiction.” Creative nonfiction has the connotation of not being completely real, a sense that things may be a tad bit made up. Dare to Disappoint is a fast and easy read, but there is depth within the illustrations and the captions. Recently, as I’ve been thinking about my own creative process and my relation to the world, I’ve been contemplating how to “Write About Family” (there’s a whole course at Yale devoted to it). How do you recreate a world that you intend to share that is authentic, and acknowledges the complexity of your lived experience?

In her search for authenticity, Samanci turns to her math notes and her poster of Jacques Cousteau. This is something that resonates with me, because I’ve found that what drives me and gives me direction in life are not the “I should” thoughts that come from family, friends, outsiders, or what I “think” the world expects of me, but the places and spaces and activities that I give my energy to and are fulfilling for me. It’s what makes her title so powerful--understanding the system and structure that you are socialized into, and realizing that finding your own path does not have to equal a rejection of those who love and support you. 

Reading this also brought to mind three other memoir-like things that explore this relationship between authenticity and writing about family: The Broke Diaries by Angela Nissel, A Child Called It by Dave Pelzer, and Ugly by Constance Briscoe. 

Broke Diaries by Angela Nissel originally came from a series of blog posts that she wrote throughout college, but it is also a story about race, class and gender throughout time. It is both a collection of snapshots of Philadelphia in the ‘80s and ‘90s, and a historiography of racial identity formations in the United States. Like Samanci who balances her interests in art and theater with pride and a sense of duty, Nissel wrestles with majoring in medical anthropology to appease those “back home” and pursuing her creative interests. These works cannot be constrained to one category, which I find beautiful.

Dave Pelzer’s and Constance Briscoe’s books deal with much heavier content than Angela Nissel’s Broke Diaries. Both were severely abused and neglected by their various parents, guardians, and caretakers. But the purpose of these books is not necessarily to share pain or perpetuate trauma (Well, for A Child Called It that might not be completely true--the validity of his experiences have been questioned). Nor are they neatly packaged stories that promise to reveal something uplifting about society. They are a collection of experiences and reveal authenticity in the most brutal way, and are ultimately projects about writing about family.

I think for me, I’d like to know the role she expects her art to play in the world. Why does she feel like her life is worth sharing, in this way? What does she feel like her drawings contribute to her narrative, or what do they encompass that words could not say?