Every week, the AWM is excited to bring you stories written by our visitors in our Story of the Day exhibit, which features typewriters that visitors can interact with directly, or our newest temporary exhibit, My America: Immigrant and Refugee Writers Today. Check back weekly for new stories, and visit the Museum to try out our typewriters, see the exhibit, and possibly be featured here!
A Rainy Day in Chicago
It’s a rainy cold day in Chicago. What better than to sit indoors and bang on a selectric. Memories of the past. No one could secretly work into the depths of the night, type until dawn. This thing would deafen the dawn chorus. Something I never did. Of course we always had correctotype back then, but the back space on this is wonky and skips a line. What fun!!
Writing all over the page like some kind of mechanical poetry. Makes a new game. Hope youngsters will fall in love with the joys of typewriting with all fingers and not just thumbs.
I went to work in the days of Mad Men. It wasn’t a “thing” then but it was the world I knew. Women were decorative in the office and subservient to men. I caused a stir when I refused to answer whether I was a Miss or Mrs. It’s like being non-binary now. Why do you need my marital status. There’s some kind of judgement implied. Are you taken or available. If you were a certain age and available, you’re on the shelf. Who says that any more??
I was non-binary before it was invented. I challenged gender identification for the same reason – there’s some kind of judgement implied. It’s not gender preference based. It’s about equal opportunity. Dig it!
If I had a bar of magic soap, I would use it to wash my hands of every man who ever broke my heart. I would watch the suds and the memories swirl and spin and float down the drain, along with my dreams.
A Letter to Life
Yesterday was another trying day. Sadness prevailed but it was surrounded by the beauty of the lake, the sun, the flowers with all those gossamer butterfly wings. It made the day bearable.
Back in Chicago from my home in the far Northwest — tall buildings all around — but the multitude of faces, so many people from everywhere, so many stories.