The creative writing classes taught by these professors are not based on a letter grade. Art is subjective. In fact, grading might pressure students to create art that would align with their professor’s desires instead of allowing their imaginations to run amok. Imagination should be unfettered and free; it should be honest and heartfelt, stemming from the writer’s soul and not impinged upon by something as “logical” as a letter-grading system. If you can put in the effort, you can pass. This sentiment supports my concept of creativity and is expressed in the director’s opening statement: “You need not have written a poem, gotten closer to the filmmaking endeavor than your television screen or even completed a short story, in order to take a class in creative writing at the Lewis Center for the Arts.” But one thing stands in the way — the application. One would have to have had experience in writing, particularly with the creative writing courses, in order to have an attractive application. And furthermore, even if one has experience, his or her chance of enrolling is left up to a competitive basis. The application process mars this opening statement that renders a sense of opportunity.
In real life, there are plenty of opportunities that are based on selectivity and talent — the book-publishing and writing industries are definitely among them. Most writers live on commission ... if they even sell anything at all. Not everyone is going to be a Stephen King, Stephenie Meyer or J.K. Rowling — we all know this fact. So what is wrong with the creative writing courses following the same criteria as in real life? I would argue that the difference is that literary agents and editors are seeking books that can make a profit.
But we are still in college, exploring all of our interests and passions. For most of us, our affinities are not going to be ultimately marketed and profited. Because these professors are not looking for writers to make a profit, then why can’t anyone enroll in a creative writing course? Yes, of course, Oates and Morrison should work alongside only the best and brightest writers. They are luminaries, after all. But we all work with luminaries everyday, whether it is in our philosophy, politics or even art and archaeology courses, and in these subjects, the majority of courses are not application-based. By having a selective application process, talented writers are either being passed over because of “seniority” or “numbers”, or just because “it was a really competitive process this semester.” Because of this ‘weeding-out’ process, many people are turned away without even the opportunity to explore in more detail a subject that interests them.
In college, we are constantly encouraged to try out new disciplines and embark upon new territories. But how can anyone do this if there are constant roadblocks in the form of applications? If a student wants to improve upon a skill, such as creative writing, he or she won’t have the opportunity because of selectivity.
As a result, he or she cannot grow or even uncover some hidden talent. If the student is simply not “good enough,” then give that student a chance to become “good enough” someday. All of us need improvement in certain areas, but with determination and passion — as trite as it may sound — this evolution is possible. Sure, the classes are very small and some students might have to be cut for the system to work. But if there’s demand, why can’t the Princeton administration hire more professors? We definitely have the resources, revenue and, most of all, the demand from the countless students who apply each semester. Give these students a chance.
Morgan Jerkins is a comparative literature major from Williamstown, N. J. She can be reached at mjerkins@princeton.edu