Hi everyone!
I had the amazing opportunity to hang out with our anthology contest winner Allison Baggott-Rowe about mental health, recovery, and of course, writing. I had a great time with Allison as she shared some personal aspects and inspirations.
I first came across Allison on YouTube, actually. I’m a fan of the Tedx Talks series and actually knew of Allison from her appearance on the series. So obviously the first thing I asked Allison was about her experience with Tedx.
How exactly do you get on a TEDx Talk?
I was approached to do a TEDx talk when I was at the Ohio State University completing my undergraduate degree, and I turned it down because I just didn’t feel that I had the relevant life experience. It was maybe really intense imposter syndrome, but either way, the organization kept my name as a potential storyteller. When I was doing my first graduate degree at Xavier University, they said, “You know, this really would dovetail well with our mission this year. So would you be interested?” and I said I absolutely I would be. I’m actually really glad for the extra time and perspective that I had giving the speech later in life.
It had to be a very nerve-wracking experience. Did they tell you what to talk about, or give you some specific direction?
The TEDx community is fantastic. They really work with you to help you tell your story, and I think they really embody that mission of “ideas worth spreading.” For me, it was “We understand that you’ve had this medical trauma, and you’ve had a recovery that wasn’t necessarily totally anticipated, and we would love to hear more about that.” It really worked well with a lot of the other people who were speaking on various aspects of mindfulness and neuroplasticity. All of these things came together in a good way as I very much subscribe to the healing power of our bodies. That was something I felt like I had some personal experience with, and at that point in 2018, I had some professional experience with as well.
You go into it in the TEDx talk and the blog post a little bit about a kind of mind over matter, like when you said just putting your mind to it and at least from my experience, that’s something really difficult to do—to just be like “I’m gonna get up in the morning,” because I have PTSD, anxiety and depression, and sometimes I just don’t want to get out of bed, and it doesn’t matter, sometimes, if you have stuff to look forward to or not. So can you take me through a little bit of your progress, mindset, or thought process in the beginning, where maybe they weren’t really so sure you were going to have the recovery that you did and then how you wrapped your mind around being able to cope with that.
Absolutely! And thank you also for sharing. I know those are vulnerable topics. They are not easy to deal with and I think it’s so important that we look at our mental health and physical health with the same gravitas. I feel like there’s some sort of karmic shift happening for me right now. The day that I sustained my traumatic brain injury was April 12, 2012, and next week is the 10-year anniversary of that injury, so I really appreciate you giving me a forum to talk about it. That injury . . . without getting too graphic, my head was slammed by somebody else in a door seven times, hitting both sides of my head. And it created all these different problems in different areas of the brain and in the immediate days, weeks, months, and years that followed.
At that point, I was at a small Liberal Arts College, and we needed to pull me out. With it being April, it was very close to the end of the semester. Through the help of my friends and my family, who were just absolutely so supportive, and some excellent, excellent faculty as well, I was able to finish the semester through various extensions, taking exams orally or remotely, and in other demonstrative ways. I then transferred to The Ohio State University. It’s amazing. I never envisioned myself going there, and I absolutely fell in love with it.
At one point I remember hearing “she may need to be put in a home.” There are still some pretty significant amnestic periods and I’m not sure if I dreamed this or if this is something that happened, but what I do know is I chose to transfer to Ohio State, because there were so many resources medically for me that I was able to go to rehabilitation services while working part-time on my degree. So I went to speech therapy, vestibular therapy, occupational therapy, talk therapy, all sorts of things. I did that nearly two-four days a week for three years.
I went to school at Ohio State part-time. I’d already done two years at the smaller liberal arts school, and then completed three at Ohio State, and graduated with my B.A. in Psychology. It was then that I really pivoted and shifted my perspective to learning more about psychology and neuroscience. I wanted to learn more about how to help my brain, and that journey took me to various Western philosophies—what might be helpful in terms of intervention and medication—and also more Eastern philosophies, using ayurvedic medicine, acupuncture, lots of internal martial arts and yoga and shifting my diet. It was a big hodgepodge of just being willing to say ‘yes’ to things that felt unfamiliar. I really just tried to take it as “Well, I have this unique opportunity to get to know myself in a way that I haven’t before,” and it was absolutely terrifying. I realize I’m saying this in a way that makes the process sound like it was beautiful, and many moments were beautiful, but it was also really frightening and disheartening, because it was not a linear process, and I didn’t know what the outcome would be. None of us really did.
“Well, I have this unique opportunity to get to know myself in a way that I haven't before,” and it was absolutely terrifying."
It definitely sounds like something you really had to work through. Despite having all those resources, you didn’t know what was going to happen, but you kept going anyway. It’s inspiring because that mindset is very, very hard to keep in perspective.
Definitely! That was the intention at least, so I’m glad it comes across that way, and certainly was how it felt in the moment. It’s just crazy to me. I had a great neuropsychologist who worked with me, and they look at a lot of different things. One of the things that was just absolutely heartbreaking to hear was that I was knocked back to the second-grade reading and writing level. I also could not actually write how I used to. It is difficult to describe, but is similar to dyslexia in that I would look at a letter (like a b, for example) and it would sort of move around on the page, and then it would look like a lowercase d or P. It still happens when I am writing and I often skip letters by accident, but it is so much better now than it used to be, especially in writing. Reading, even now, I use the tricks I was taught in my rehabilitation for school assignments and reviewing my own works in the editing process. During rehab, it was just lots and lots of practice, and I really credit the people working with me—keeping me curious and keeping my spirits up because that’s the most important thing. It’s in just not giving up and continuing to be enthusiastic about living life, whatever that looks like.
Especially as a writer and a student, to not be things that you literally were doing every single day . . .
I mean terrifying would probably be an understatement. It was really one of the first times that I started realizing that I, as a person, have multiple identities. I’m a daughter and a sister, a wife, and a student. I’m also a patient, and all of those things are okay . . . and they can coexist. How they coexist will change and fluctuate over time with other identities like “writer.”
As writers, we sometimes focus on that as our primary—or most important—identity and when those things change, the expectations change, and our perceived value of that identity becomes challenged. As a single mom, when I don’t have time to write, it could bring me down. So you bring a good point, of remembering that you are other things too, both to yourself and to other people.
It kind of keeps everything in perspective. If you have a setback in one area, that doesn’t mean all the other areas are set back as well. I think it’s something that’s really good to remember, because the world is full of setbacks. We don’t know what tomorrow holds. Sometimes it’s really worth that leap of faith to go through the recovery process, not knowing what’s going to happen, and at the same time know that even if I don’t recover the way I envision or the way I would like, there are other parts of me that make me worthy and worthwhile and “right.”
And it’s such a hard thing to remember, especially when something, like our identity as a writer, is so valuable to us. We do have to allow ourselves some time to grieve that change. It is challenging too, to keep that identity in perspective. Like the perception that we must write every day to be a writer or author. It’s definitely a challenge, especially for those of us who love it.
It is difficult, isn’t it? Writing is hard. There’s a reason why that’s a thing. I know you and I had talked about this a little bit, but for me I know one of my favorite authors, Neil Gaiman, talks about bantering with Terry Pratchett about having written his 2,000 words every morning and I’m just like “Oh, my gosh, you write 2,000 words before 9 A.M. every day?”
I have found it to be, with the various disabilities I have, much more helpful for me to measure what I’m writing in the time that I’m dedicating to it. So, if I’m having an absolutely atrocious writer’s block or my cohort is needing more edits right now, or whatever it might be, it’s like “Okay, I’m going to still take this hour, hour and a half, whatever it may be, this morning and sit down and do my own process even if it doesn’t feel greatly inspired. You know that beautiful moment where you have an idea and you’re like, “Oh, it’s just going to fall out of my fingertips onto the page”? For me that’s certainly the exception and not the norm.
Even if I don't recover the way I envision or the way I would like, there are other parts of me that make me worthy and worthwhile and “right.”
Yes, I definitely agree there! Can you walk us through what your process is? Everybody has a unique process, and I always like to ask, because we can pick up on something that’s like “Oh, that’s a good idea. I’ll try that.” Hearing other people’s process can not only just relatable, but also give us some insight—an opportunity to take some thoughts and ideas for ourselves, selfishly.
Absolutely! I could not agree more. I have borrowed again and again from other writers and learned so much. And it’s really a question that never gets old, because there are as many processes as there are writers in the world. I have been able to pinpoint a few activities that really help me feel connected to my most creative self. I’m an Irish musician and I love playing acoustic music. So, in the morning I will often get out my guitar, and just sort of strum some chords, and especially after having this head injury—I have synesthesia, where colors and words all get very mixed together— music has become a huge part of my process, whether it’s playing music or having some sort of music in the background. Also just doing things that are more meditative like yoga or taking my dogs for a walk. Doing those things get images and ideas flowing that I then feel like I put on the page. I also get a lot of inspiration from what I am reading . . . right now I am enjoying re-reading the full “Sherlock Holmes”—my favorite short story is “The Red Headed League”—and David Sedaris’ “A Carnival of Snackery.”
Like many of us, I do carry a journal, and my husband teases me, but not really, when we’re going out for a nice date, I’ve got, not a little clutch, but a bag full of like 20 pens and three journals. I’m like, “you never know . . . we might have an appetizer that just absolutely gives me the best idea I’ve ever had.”
I just carry around index cards. It’s one of the best pieces of advice I have been given in terms of process: coming back to ideas much like flashcards.
You just reminded me of this! One of my professors, and just an absolutely fantastic author, is Elizabeth Sharp Mcketta. She suggested creating, whether it’s in a physical journal, or a word document, or a note on your phone, some sort of “compost” note for yourself as a writer. And even if it’s just two lines of dialogue, or “this is going to be a snatch of poetry, but I don’t know what comes next,” have a place to just dump all of that, and then reuse or recycle it later, when it can be most beneficial for you. It has been great for me when I’m looking for inspiration.
Yes, and the idea that we’re going to remember it later, is a myth. We’re never going to remember everything and that is okay. We should make it a habit to write down all of the cool things, and sometimes they do come in the middle of dinner. And it also comes with having support systems that allow you to be yourself in your spaces from your husband to your friends, because you never know when those breakthroughs are going to happen. That is a very exciting moment.
I am so incredibly grateful that I live with a spouse who, he is a high school English and Latin teacher, so I have the best in-house editor. We started dating several years after my head injury, so from the start of our relationship, it’s been an inter-abled relationship.
And it’s been something that has just a beautiful thing to cultivate and prune back the things that aren’t working for us and really nurture those aspects of our relationship where we can support each other. Sometimes we are both up late at night, working on quizzes for his Latin students, or coming up with fun ideas for class.
The next day he could be helping put my socks on in the morning, and saying, ‘send me any work that you need edited today. I feel like our partnership is just invaluable. To have someone like that in your life is so affirming.
That’s awesome that you have that!
I had so many unanswered questions, certain “stuck points” around that grief and around that trauma and being able to write through it really helped me to come face to face in a safe way with what was holding me back from moving forward.
I would also just say and really encourage anyone who’s thinking about writing. I have moments of intense imposter syndrome about my writing. It’s human to doubt your skills, even if you’re really good at something. Just keep going and see what happens.
I think it keeps us a little bit humble, in the sense of checking ourselves too: Is this working? Do I need to reevaluate this? Your skill is your skill and no one’s ever going to be perfect or the best. It’s a scary world out there, and having someone that you can trust, even if it’s just one person you know that can relate to your struggles, whether it be imposter syndrome or just needing help navigating the writing community, especially when beginning in writing it can make a very big difference.
Absolutely!
I’m very excited for your story and related a lot to the father figure in regards to his sarcasm and his way of looking at the world.
Oh, I’m glad. I really enjoyed writing his character and it’s interesting, right, as you’re talking about putting things out into the world, and the reception you can get in the literary world or on social media. Sometimes I worry with my own family—just because I’m writing about a father figure like that, doesn’t mean this is how my father was. They could not have been more different! This was my first time writing an unreliable narrator. And it came out of my thinking about this fantastic short story “A Corpse Walks Into A Bar” by Lesley Bannatyne, and after reading it, I found myself asking “what would animate somebody?” More importantly, I suppose, “What would motivate a body to remain sentient for a little while longer than is natural. and what are the consequences of that?”
Certainly, writing this piece gave me a lot of peace and comfort with the loss of my father, who died very suddenly, very unexpectedly at the age of 60. I had so many unanswered questions, certain “stuck points” around that grief and around that trauma and being able to write through it really helped me to come face to face in a safe way with what was holding me back from moving forward.
Death, especially a death so sudden, can be very traumatic. You don’t get the closure you wanted; there’s no goodbye. You think you have so much time with a person, and then you’re left stranded, maybe feeling abandoned by the other person, even though it wasn’t their choice, and processing all those feelings through writing can be one of the best way to come to terms with the lack of closure.
Yes, for me it has, though it differs from writer to writer. It’s always seemed like a natural outlet for me when there’s just too much too of something happening internally.
A lot of what we’ve been talking about is the power of being flexible. As you were talking about your recovery from traumatic brain injury, and keeping an open mind, and how keeping the open line of flexibility will help you progress and be open to the things you may not have seen there. I think that is the message I want to leave off on: being flexible and being open to different things can bring about hope and insight.
Absolutely. I think curiosity can, and hopefully always will be, my biggest motivator, and yes, an open mind can get you much more than I think any of us ever realize in the moment. Thank you so much for the time today to share my story behind the story with you.
Allison’s story, “What Remains” will be featured in our upcoming anthology We Deserve to Exist. She began writing as a teenager, winning Ohio’s “Power of the Pen” twice and advancing to the state level as a finalist both years. Her piece, “Wounded Birds” was published by Scars literary magazine. Allison is also a Swarthmore Book Award recipient and a contributor to several literary journals including The Chatterbox, The Goldfish, and Oberlin College’s The Grape. You can access her written works online at redfeatherreflections.com. Currently, she is a student at Harvard University obtaining her M.A. in Creative Writing and Literature and is in the process of self-publishing a collection of her own poetry and short stories. Check out her TEDx talk about redefining one’s life in the face of adversity, “A Fall Does Not Define You, But How You Rise Will Redefine You.”