The biblical story of Noah’s Ark metaphorically represents a means of escape or protection from an undesirable situation. In my writer’s life, imagination and literature became my Ark around the age of four. As a young female in the rural 1950s, misogyny ruled. A girl’s freedom to follow her inner self was restricted, hence the need for an Ark to escape a flood of negativity. Literature, in the form of books and stories, became my haven where I could explore new worlds and ideas and find solace in the characters who faced similar challenges.
Radio was the primary source of entertainment and news, but again, it was very limited: local news, sports, and livestock reports. The lack of television and unreliable transmission produced a further vacuum.
Church, 4-H Club, and Girl Scouts shepherded girls’ lives toward marriage and motherhood with knitting, sewing, cooking, and gardening. I liked all those things, but classical music was my passion. College for women was becoming popular by the 1960s, but going to music school? Absolutely not! Teacher or nurse. That’s it. Besides, “Why spend all that money when you’re just going to get married?”
Western Kansas wasn’t a totalitarian state, but it was a repressive one. The local authorities were not to be challenged under any circumstance. My imagination often came under attack. The parents of my peers—not so much the children themselves—made fun of my creative imagination. When I announced I would go to New York City where I could be sophisticated at the age of five or six, instead of laughing and saying, “Good for you,” the response was, “Who do you think you are? You’ll never find a husband if you talk like that.” So I found my inner self in books, and from fourth grade on, in adult books. Were they appropriate for my age? Perhaps not, but I discovered valuable insights unavailable to me in my everyday life. Fueled by literature, my imagination became my beacon of hope and determination in the face of societal restrictions.
Azar Nafisi, an Iranian-American author, wrote in “The Republic of Imagination,” “…literature is not simply a path toward literacy or a necessary step in their education. It is a basic need, a way to reclaim an identity confiscated….”This resonates deeply with my experience, as literature became the tool through which I reclaimed my identity, understanding, and validation.
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