Eratosphere - Ruth Stone: June 8, 1915

I hope it's OK to post a personal reminiscence here (if not, a Moderator can delete this). When I was still very new to poetry in 1996 and looking for guidance and inspiration, I found the Feminist Women Writers Workshop in the Finger Lakes (NY), and the special guest that year was Ruth Stone. It was a small conference (about 50 women), and past guests of Ruth's caliber tended to swoop in and out -- do their reading, lead a class, be feted and leave. Not Ruth. She spent the whole week with us -- lived with us, dined with us, workshopped with us, met with us individually for 30 minutes each and then in small groups, read to us and mentored us. I've yet to have another experience like it. She was generous beyond anything I could imagine.

She celebrated her 80th birthday that week, and she had the energy of a woman half her age. She was fierce, and she was fearless. She worried about money, how she'd live and pay her heating bills, but she never let it defeat her. She never forgave her husband for committing suicide, and she advised all of us to never depend on a man. Make a life for yourself, she would say, and enjoy men and be with them if that's your thing, but don't make them your life. She was still haunted and traumatized by that whole experience, and it seemed to be with her always, though she didn't wallow in it. She'd jump up out of her seat, raise a fist and talk about going forward, to never give up.

My poetry was pretty horrendous then, but as bad as it was, she found a couple of things to praise and a long list of things to improve and think about. She was clear, honest and direct in her criticism while being empathetic. She'd put her arm around you and tell you it was a crap poem but that you'd write a better one tomorrow. She was amazing, and it was a joy to me that she lived to see her work acknowledged and respected for the fine, fine work it is.

Marybeth