When my friend and Martha’s Vineyard neighbor Samantha Look contacted me recently about judging for the Vineyard Conservation Society’s Art & Writing Contest, I felt honored and thought I should give it a try. I had never judged a contest before. But I’ve judged and edited a lot of writing; that feels second nature to me. And I’ve been on the receiving end of a lot of judgment. I have also won an award. It was fifty-plus years ago in summer camp, and every camper got an award, but still. It seemed to me that judging these high school poets and writers would be no big deal.
I had no idea.
The theme of this year’s contest was well-chosen and challenging: “beauty in the weeds.” Some of the contestants chose to take it quite literally, imagining themselves as unwanted but not unlovely dandelions. Others found ways to expand the beauty/weeds theme and meet the challenge on their own broader terms. They invariably found ways to express the idea that “weeds,” natural or otherwise, can be beautiful; that beauty is much more than superficial aesthetic appeal; and that loveliness and its opposite are relative and often convertible.
As I read through the forty-odd poems, stories, and short essays, I learned some tough, important lessons. First, judging is very hard – much harder than grading college papers, which I had to do once. Here, I had to read each piece three or four times. But how to rate or compare them? I never liked the idea of grading on a curve.
Second, it’s a lot harder when the writers are adolescents just beginning to find their footing as writers. It’s like judging a butterfly while it’s still emerging from the chrysalis. (And for that simile to take wing, I had to confirm that moths make cocoons, butterflies make chrysalises. The learning never ends).
I’m used to critiquing the work of friends and fellow writers. It’s mostly about finding glaring errors or suggesting stylistic or structural changes, based on how I happen to read and write. Editing is a simple role: you play God. Taking on young writers proved an altogether different and more complicated challenge. It gave me new respect for all English teachers, except for a few of the ones I had. And for some reason, playing God just didn’t cut it.
Third, and most important, I realized what a privilege it was, as a mere mortal, to be able to peek into the hearts and minds of these anonymous young Vineyarders. That was a first for me, and a great pleasure. I can be a tough critic, but this time it felt more like love. Go figure.
Luckily, the rules for judging didn’t prescribe a single winner. I was unable to identify a single best work; but I managed to select four that deserved first place, and two that warranted Special Distinction. Among the top four, there was simply no way to fairly grade from best to worst. They differed in tone, style, and genre – one was an essay. Any ranking would have been purely subjective, if not random.
Any preconceptions I had that editing is easy or formulaic went by the boards. This wasn’t like my writing group, where I know the writers and have a feel for how I can and cannot help them and be helped by them in turn. And so, like the kids I was judging here, I simply tried to do my best.
I commend VCS for sponsoring the Art and Writing Contest, and I’m grateful to each of the contestants who participated; what a joy it was to get to know their work. I congratulate them all, and their teachers and mentors. There wasn’t a bad piece in the lot; some of the entries with the most obvious shortcomings also showed the most potential for growth. And that’s what it’s all about.
These young writers love their island, their environment, and, for the most part, their lives. They should be encouraged to write their heads off. I say that as a writer who believes that words are the apex predators of stupidity, apathy, and unreason, and therefore essential to almost all education and personal growth. May our young writers grow and flourish like beautiful weeds.