My Writing Journey

I was always going to be a linguist. My Dad was a French teacher and, not wanting to be lectured on the conjugation of French verbs at home, I threw myself into every opportunity to learn languages other than French. I took German and Russian A Levels, discovering along the way a love of poetry, etymology and collecting alphabets. When it came to choosing what I wanted to do at university, I was torn between pursuing languages and RE, my other great love.

What swung it for me was the fact that most Theology and Religious Studies degrees required the study of a language associated with sacred texts – Sanskrit, Qur’anic Arabic, Hebrew, Greek. I jumped in enthusiastically, getting from zero Hebrew to the equivalent of A Level in 7 weeks. Despite the odd mistranslation, the journey of discovery into these text’s original languages opened my eyes to entirely different ways of living in and thinking about the world. For example, in Hebrew, thinking is something you do with your heart, rather than your head; so where ‘Moses thought…’ in an English Torah translation, in the original Hebrew “Moses said in his heart…”. That puts an entirely different spin on decision-making.

This was powerful: it gave me permission to step outside my own worldview and temporarily inhabit someone else’s. The impact of doing this was something that I wanted to share. I continued my studies, earning a Masters and then working on a PhD. However, life intervened, and despite reaching the writing-up phase of my PhD, ill health meant that I never completed it. I moved into teaching Secondary Religious Studies and Philosophy and *loved* it.

Writing as a postgraduate researcher was both frustrating and daunting; the audience were the experts and I was just starting out. In teaching however, my teenage audience was curious (usually) and enthusiastic (sometimes), and my job was to explain things never before encountered. My writing changed – I needed to make complex, abstract ideas accessible. It was at this point that I started blogging and through this, connecting with other RE teachers.

In my current role as an adviser to a huge range of Lincolnshire schools, my writing changed once again. I had the chance to re-engage with research in my field, considering its adaptation to the classroom. I was now writing for an audience not of academics or teenagers, but teachers, and needed to speak into their contexts in practical and useful ways. Several generous colleagues shared their time and expertise, providing collaborative writing opportunities which opened doors for me; Mark Chater, Kathryn Wright, Olivia Seymour, Jane Chipperton, and many more. Writing can feel like a lonely and isolating activity, and I was astonished by the power of collaborative writing. I can say with absolute certainty that my writing improved a hundred-fold. I have taken that lesson into my day job and intentionally seek opportunities to work collaboratively with teachers who are writing for publication, for research and for their own professional development.

I did not set out to become a writer, but throughout my professional life, writing has challenged me to present what I know to others and, perhaps most importantly, to a range of different audiences. It can often feel, at the end of a long working day when the laundry still needs doing and paperwork needs sorting and there are still 50 unread emails in your inbox, that writing is an added extra – something you’ll get round to once you’ve sorted out everything else. I would urge you to revisit that assumption. For me, writing has been a way of trying out ideas, of improving my ability to communicate effectively to different audiences; it has provided me with a space to think and to work collaboratively with others. Writing has helped me grow professionally and it has become an invaluable part of who I am.

There are lots of ways in which you can get involved in writing – why not start with a blog post for RE:ONLINE?