Jordan Coleman Loves Fantasy and Practicing Vulnerability, and Other Things you Should Know about the Iris Author

Jordan Coleman Loves Fantasy and Practicing Vulnerability, and Other Things you Should Know about the Iris Author

Art
Autumn Jefferson
Media Staff

Sitting in an abandoned second floor of Trinity Irish Pub, Jordan Coleman and I sip drinks—a Bold Rock for me, and a Coke for her. She wiggles the straw around as I fumble with my recording device. I have her start and stop talking into the microphone at least twice; “Lisztomania” by Phoenix plays at an oddly loud volume, given that it's just us and the bartenders. 

We’re an interesting pair: two people tired from the week, yet talking about writing on our night off. But for Jordan Coleman, a third year Women, Gender, & Sexuality Studies (WGS) major here at UVA, writing is a passion—an art form and a creative muscle she likes to stretch in her free time. And so, on our night off, we talk about fantasy, poetry, and vulnerability. What else would you talk about at Trin? 

Jordan has always wanted to be a writer—but she hasn’t always loved writing. 

She’s stayed faithful in her marriage to reading, but her relationship with writing has always been slightly strained. 

She grew up enamored by fantasy, constantly imagining other worlds. 

“I wanted to be a fantasy writer as a kid,” she laughs, still captivated by the genre today. “I gravitate towards magical realism, science fiction. I just reread the Percy Jackson series a week into January. Five books are already done, and I’m about to start the Heroes of Olympus.”

She’s stayed faithful in her marriage to reading, but her relationship with writing has always been slightly strained. 

Iris has reignited my love for writing…In middle school, I wanted to write my own stories. Then I got to high school and I started struggling,” she said, after her teachers’ critiques of her work. But a senior-year creative writing class relit her love for the form, and Iris gave her the space to hone her craft after years of feeling stuck. 

“[Iris] pushes me to write a lot more,” she says, “and I really appreciate it. Like wow. I wrote all of that in ONE semester. It’s made me love writing again.” Article after article, Jordan began to restore her creative inner-child, transforming that youthful spark into something with remarkable possibility. 

Despite her self-deprecation, the poem, like her other writings, wasn’t without purpose—she draws on her own emotions, her own experiences to create art that is relatable. 

She laughs when thinking about her poem, “becoming witch.” “That poem was short and vague, because I didn’t know what else to say.” 

Despite her self-deprecation, the poem, like her other writings, wasn’t without purpose—she draws on her own emotions, her own experiences to create art that is relatable. 

“I think my pieces are all vastly different, but they come from a similar place—they’re all deeply personal.” The pieces about her loved ones are the most special to her.  “I really love the one about my mom, it'll always be special to me because of the emotion behind it. That, and the one about my cat.” 

She pensively tilts her head as I ask her about the inspiration behind her pieces. “I find it easier to write about something that I have a strong emotional connection to, because I’ve thought about it enough on my own that I have sources to pull from.” Even with seemingly un-personal topics, like her recent article on Reneé Rapp, she considers all of her subject matters as reflective of her person. “I was listening to her music everyday for weeks, so it was easier to let [my thoughts] out on a page. I’m a very emotional and vulnerable person—it's easier to pull from what I’m emotionally invested in.”

Jordan articulates to me her emotionality—and it's through that deep devotion and profound feeling that she is able to articulate more ‘political’ topics. 

Jordan articulates to me her emotionality—and it's through that deep devotion and profound feeling that she is able to articulate more ‘political’ topics. 

“Definitely the knowledge I’ve gained from my WGS classes informs my writing. The persecution of single women and targeting of women… those readings really informed [‘becoming witch.’] My passion for WGS usually influences my commentary.”

I ask her that dreaded question for all 18-22 year olds in college: Where do you see yourself in 10 years? She admits she thinks about it often, and we commiserate over the endless questions about WGS job security. 

“What does a WGS major even mean… I have no idea,” she sighs, but then continues confidently. “That’s why I love it. I can do anything with it. I went into college undecided, and the freedom [of WGS] means I’m still undecided in a way.” 

Whatever she decides to do, she has passion in spades and the artistic prowess to back it. There is strength in vulnerability, and Jordan is a prime example.

“Having a career in the future that lets me write would be nice,” she says. Though Jordan doesn’t know if she wants to write as her profession, writing is still important to her future.

Whatever she decides to do, she has passion in spades and the artistic prowess to back it. There is strength in vulnerability, and Jordan is a prime example. “I still struggle with [being vulnerable]... but I’ve realized how easy it is to be close with people. And now, I’m more readily myself.”

As we close the tab and pack up our things, she pauses. “In 10 years, I also see myself with cats. Living with friends. Being happy.”

I smile, and she finishes the dregs of her Coke. Then we toss the empty cups, and we each find our way home.