“Sister. She is your mirror, shining back at you with a world of possibilities” – Barbara Alpert
Exhausted from a long day of Tuesday classes, Susannah and I wandered aimlessly around Grounds until we found a quiet space to conduct our interview together. Desperately wishing we could spend the time sleeping, we were both apprehensive about the success of this project. And yet, we both emerged from the Language Commons in brighter spirits. Our conversation showed me all the big and small ways Susannah and I connect.
“We are different in so many ways, but I trust that our wavelengths will always find their way back in tune with the other.” – Susannah Baker, “acoustics of sisterhood”
I first met Susannah by chance in Spring 2023. I was spending time with a new friend at their apartment when Susannah walked into the living room and introduced herself. She easily slipped into our conversation and before long, we discovered we were both starting Iris the next year. As we expressed our worries about the internship, we found comfort in our mutual nerves, and exchanged contact information in hopes that we could rely on each other.
As someone who constantly oscillates between thinking no one can match her talent to feeling intense imposter syndrome, Susannah explained how Iris allows her to reach an equilibrium.
A few months later, Iris met us with reassuring, open arms, welcoming us into the fold. Only then did we realize there were people out there excited to hear our voice. Iris became a safe space for our words.
In our interview, Susannah discussed in length the safe, comforting environment of Iris, which is incredibly important for her creative process and her struggles with self-confidence.
Susannah: It's nice to be in a place where everyone's rooting for each other,…creating together.
As someone who constantly oscillates between thinking no one can match her talent to feeling intense imposter syndrome, Susannah explained how Iris allows her to reach an equilibrium. As a writer myself, I understand Susannah’s doubts. To surround yourself with other incredibly talented writers is to invite questions of self-worth. “Am I good enough at this? How did I get here? Do I deserve to be here?”
For Susannah, clay is a medium that doesn’t demand her to be great, or even good.
However, Iris allows us to be vulnerable—like Susannah was with me—and we often discover that we all experience doubts and dips in our confidence. In fact, our vulnerability is the very thing that enhances the craft of our writing. But when we love something enough to constantly want to build our skills, we can get burnt out.
Susannah: Sometimes writing is a chore. But, clay is not a chore. Because it's always a choice. It's…always just a creative outlet.
While talking to Susannah about writing, I discovered she uses clay as a second relaxing medium. For Susannah, molding clay is simply for fun. There is no pressure to build skills, and therefore, those doubts of greatness and pressure of perfection, that she has while writing, don’t plague her.
Clay also appeals to Susannah because it demands physicality, and it was never something she tried to be good at as a kid. She recounts how she was constantly crafting stories throughout her childhood. I laughed when she told me this because I too attempted to write my own fantasy novels as a child. We both smiled as we bonded over our shared love of storytelling and our wild delusions of childhood.
Maybe writing is, I don't know, like a good sister.
As we swapped childhood stories, we realized that in cultivating our skills as writers, Susannah and I had lost our childlike wonder. As Iris interns and humanities students, we don’t give our pieces enough credit during the writing process anymore. Unlike our childhood selves who were perpetually manifesting the next greatest fantasy novel, we feel apprehension when we submit anything for editorial feedback.
However, for Susannah, clay is a medium that doesn’t demand her to be great, or even good. Clay grounds her in the way writing used to in her childhood, in a time when there was no fear of making mistakes. Clay begs her to create simply for the sake of creating.
While clay is an avenue to connect with her inner child, Susannah’s relationship with writing encompasses—and extends beyond—the self. For her, writing is like a friend, or rather a sibling.
Susannah: Maybe writing is, I don't know, like a good sister.
I was struck with the accuracy of her analogy. As our sisters are extensions—perhaps reflections—of ourselves, we often find fault with them because they reflect our own traits back at us, and sometimes we aren’t yet ready to face the truly ugly, or truly beautiful, parts of ourselves. For Susannah, having a twin sister makes this metaphorical reflection even more real.
To become a writer, then, is to sit in our flaws, our doubts, our vulnerabilities.
Susannah: My relationship with writing…it's a deeper sort of connection.
Since our siblings mirror us, we criticize them much more than we would a close friend, and they us. The same goes for our writing. We are more critical of our own words on the page, glaring back at us. And sometimes, our words place us under a microscope, exposing and magnifying our vulnerabilities.
To become a writer, then, is to sit in our flaws, our doubts, our vulnerabilities. To stare into the reflection of ourselves and allow these flaws space. Only then can we grow.
Susannah: I'm glad that Mary…saw something in me
Throughout our conversation, I saw myself reflected in Susannah’s words. Her struggles and joys with writing—even her identity as a sister—are all things I can relate to. Iris not only allows us the space to write, but it also helps us see ourselves in each other’s pieces. After reading a piece, I emerge on the other side in a new space of knowing; understanding the writer—and myself—better.
