First Impressions

by Christopher Cocca


Hello fellow MFAers and MFA hopefuls!

My name is Christopher Cocca and I'm starting my MFA in fiction at The New School as of today. This evening was our orientation sessions, and I wanted to share my first impressions as I get ready to hop a bus back home:

Waiting for the session start and sitting with 70 or so other first-year students, I thought:

I wonder who else is scared.

I wonder who else assumes everyone else in the room has their shit more together.

I wonder who these new peers are, and which of them will be friends. I wonder where the ones I know from blogging and facebook are sitting.

I wonder who else is a spouse or parent.

I wonder what we'll do here.

A few minutes later, Bob Kerry greeted us with what I thought was a frank (in a good way) and encouraging welcome. Among other things, he talked about his life as a reader and congratulated us on taking this step.

Linda Dunn spoke next and welcomed us as part of The New School's long tradition of believing in the power of literature, words and education. She talked about the kinds of things the program looks for in applicants, and stressed the importance of taking a broad view of literature and in finding writers who reflect that value in diverse ways.

Robert Polito shared a poem from Jason Shinder's "Stupid Hope" and, later, "Lament For the Makers" by Frank Bidart:

Not bird not badger not beaver not bee

Many creatures must
make, but only one must seek

within itself what to make

My father's ring was a B with a dart
through it, in diamonds against polished black stone.

I have it. What parents leave you
is their lives.

Until my mother died she struggled to make
a house that she did not loathe; paintings; poems; me.

Many creatures must

make, but only one must seek
within itself what to make

Not bird not badger not beaver not bee

*

Teach me, masters who by making were
remade, your art.

Fitting, and for me as a parent making sense of taking time for art (even making art in the first place), a bit of serendipity. Writing well and making something worth having spent this time on is, in fact, a way of loving my son in a way that no one else can.

Robert stressed our program as community, and finished by thanking us, welcoming us, and telling us to enjoy. As my first night in the city ends, I feel thankful for this opportunity and excited about what we will do here.