Wednesday, October 31, 2012

The Referee vs. The Playmaker

It was tough to decide what analogy would best juxtapose the dilemma of being a college professor who continually edits essays with being a writer who invokes imagination, creativity, and uniqueness. I have settled on the opposing roles of a sports referee and a superstar sports figure.
 A referee maintains order during a game so that players will play within the rules. I believe this is why they wear black and white because there should be no gray area in their decisions. They govern each contest according to the laws of competition. I often refer to myself as the "grammar police" for maintaining the rules of Standard American English as best as I know how. If a grammar issue needs further review, then I will consult either a higher authority, or I will consult the rules themselves. The keys in the referee's function are order, systems, and rules.

Obviously, this existence limits any room for creativity and innovation by the referee. We do not expect--nor for that matter desire--referees to show imagination. If a baseball umpire does attempt to exalt his position by tossing out a player or manager who argues a blown call, then the crowd will jeer him and throw all manner of debris on the baseball field. Fans, players, and coaches do not want to even know that the referees exist until the referees benefit them. That is the life of an editor. With little to no glory, their lot is to provide an authority on the rules of play (Standard American English) to writers who may stray from the rules.

Conversely, the role of the players exists to entertain fans, to create a spectacle, and to invoke cheers while primarily leading their teams to victory. Their primary goal is to win at all costs, but the best players will display exceptional talent in the process. Players who stand out are known as playmakers. Playmakers can, in effect, change the course of a game with one hit of the bat in a clutch situation, one dynamic throw of the football, or one spectacular catch, and they do so with creative abilities such as agility, speed, strength, or even intellect. In basketball, a clutch play usually results in a buzzer-beating shot to win a game (i.e. Michael Jordan, Kobe Bryant, LeBron James). In football, a clutch play is defined by a quarterback driving his team down the field in the last two minutes for a game-winning touchdown (i.e. Tom Brady, Peyton Manning, Eli Manning). These players remain synonymous with the term playmaker.
 As writers, we are expected to excel in the spectacular, to make the unbelievable believable, and to entertain readers with a mastery-level command of language and diction. Honestly, a writer does not have to know all the rules of Standard American English to exhibit imagination creativity just as a playmaker does not need to know every rule in the rule book to be great. We are cheered and celebrated, though, for giving readers something to cheer about. We are to leave the readers wanting more of our work with anticipation and excitement: something that will leave them in awe to tell their friends and family about.

For those of us who desire the mantles of both a writer and an editor, the juxtaposition can be tricky and often frustrating. We do not have an on-off switch that tells us for one minute to be imaginative and the next minute to be deliberately orthodox. I challenge anyone to find a referee who transcended his position to become a superstar athlete or an athlete who resigned to become a "zebra" (as the refs are called). Many believe it is easy for a teacher or an editor to write stories or poetry. Actually, it is difficult to transition from one purpose in editing others' writing to another in allowing creativity to reign. Writers can lose their edge for individuality if they are constantly thinking about grammar rules, and editors can lose sight of the imagination in others' writing if they have the blinders of Standard American English in full gaze.

These gifts of both an editor and a writer can be daunting, but the greats have learned to master this practice. One that comes to mind is the American icon and Nobel Prize winner Toni Morrison. As an editor, a professor at Princeton, and an author, she has perfected the art of literature and has developed a signature style that others attempt to duplicate or from which to derive inspiration. Some of her thoughts on writing and editing are marvelously woven together. For example, in an interview she once said, "What I can do very well is what I used to do, which is edit. I can follow [other writers'] train of thought, see where their language is going, suggest other avenues. I can do that, and I can do that very well" (Jaffrey Interview 1998). However on inspiration, she counters with "I can't explain inspiration. A writer is either compelled to write or not. And if I waited for inspiration I wouldn't really be a writer" (Time Magazine Interview 1998).

To her, the two mantles of writer and editor compliment one another rather than work against one another. In fact, Morrison declares that they must in order for a writer to become not only great but also complete and content with their own work. "I love that part; that's the best part, revision. I do it even after the books are bound! Thinking about it before you write it is delicious. Writing it all out for the first time is painful because so much of the writing isn't very good. I didn't know in the beginning that I could go back and make it better; so I minded very much writing badly. But now I don't mind at all because there's that wonderful time in the future when I will make it better, when I can see better what I should have said and how to change it. I love that part!" (Bakerman Interview 1978).

Therefore, if we as teachers and editors can endure the process of the draft, then we can bask in the paradise of revising unto greatness. The pressure of writing a great draft should be nonexistent. All drafts are edited at some point, so the need for perfection in drafts remains an unnecessary burden. Becoming both the referee and the playmaker sets us apart. Even writers who are not necessarily editors should take on the editor's role in their own work, allowing them to view the work through a different lens.

I accept the role of becoming more versatile as a professor and a writer. So many have done so with success. I seek to join them. When both great playmakers and great referees are on the field at the same time, the result usually is a flawless spectacle for the world to enjoy: the battle cry for my works as a writer.