

LIZ WALKER
MY STORY


















MY STORY
I started writing as a child, a way to escape loneliness and self-doubt. I suppose all children go through that period of loneliness, but after my father died when I was twelve, reading was not enough. My own words grew into fast friends, secret companions willing to dress up and become whoever and whatever I wanted, what I needed.
In high school I joined the Little Rock Central High newspaper staff, the Tiger, and finally found a place where I fit, when Charles Lance, my slightly bent, very white, pencil thin journalism teacher, with the most southern of drawls I’d ever heard, proudly affirmed me in a slow rolling but incredulous twang, “Walker, y’all can write!” …the first time a white teacher in any classroom, ever complimented me on anything. And writing became the way, my way to shed light on all the dark places I encountered in my world, first in school, then in my career as a television journalist.
Years would pass before I considered writing a book, this story about stories. And it came only after we started journaling sessions as part of Can We Talk…. The idea of writing as balm, a healing action, a way of letting go, led to my decision to write the story of our community gatherings and my own trauma. It remains my everyday path to healing.


