Kurt Vonnegut and the experience of Becoming

By Adeline Beason

Over the summer, I got a pair of roller skates for my 20th birthday. I thought it would be a fun and easy way to exercise, but I was sorely mistaken (literally). One week and several big bruises made me reconsider even buying the skates, and I eventually let them sit in the closet, untouched.

Rollerskating isn’t my first abandoned hobby, either. I remember getting a shiny new bass guitar for Christmas one year, only to learn a few chords and let it collect dust by my dresser. Next a tennis racket, then a pen pal, a fashion blog, and so on. It was so exciting to start these hobbies, but they fizzled out when I wasn’t good at them right away. 

Why is this? 

It’s not an uncommon experience, in fact, I think the vast majority of us have experienced the same thing.

In 2006, a high school English class in New York City was asked to write letters to famous authors for advice. Only one such author, Kurt Vonnegut, responded. Here is what he had to say:

“What I had to say to you, moreover, would not take long, to wit: Practice any art, music, singing, dancing, acting, drawing, painting, sculpting, poetry, fiction, essays, reportage, no matter how well or badly, not to get money and fame, but to experience becoming, to find out what’s inside you, to make your soul grow.

Seriously! I mean starting right now, do art and do it for the rest of your lives. Draw a funny or nice picture of Ms. Lockwood (teacher), and give it to her. Dance home after school, and sing in the shower and on and on. Make a face in your mashed potatoes. Pretend you’re Count Dracula.

Here’s an assignment for tonight, and I hope Ms. Lockwood will flunk you if you don’t do it: Write a six-line poem, about anything, but rhymed. No fair tennis without a net. Make it as good as you possibly can. But don’t tell anybody what you’re doing. Don’t show it or recite it to anybody, not even your girlfriend or parents or whatever, or Ms. Lockwood. OK?

Tear it up into teeny-weeny pieces, and discard them into widely separated trash receptacle. You will find that you have already been gloriously rewarded for your poem. You have experienced becoming, learned a lot more about what’s inside you, and you have made your soul grow. God bless you all!”

How does this letter make you feel? After this, I encourage you to write the poem Vonnegut talks about, even if you aren’t in high school anymore. As we begin this semester, keep in mind the things that inspire you and don’t be afraid of mediocrity- let’s all try letting our souls grow.