5 minute read
Contributor’s Corner (Poetry Katherine Ruth Hofer
Katherine Ruth Hofer
INTVW by Kathleen Crucillo
Advertisement
The COVID-19 pandemic has caused a drastic change to the way people all over the world socialize. In attempts to keep us from even worse situations, authorities have limited travels and in-person engagements, including work arrangements. Budapest-based English tutor and proofreader Katherine Ruth Hofer would know the difference all too well, with her missionary experience offering a clear view of how it was like to be able to openly interact with others.
New Reader Magazine had the honor of chatting with Katherine about the pandemic, her poetry inspirations, and The Reluctant Partier—one of her poems which offer an introspective view about one’s struggle on self-image, connection, and social withdrawal. Read all about it here!
NRM: How are you dealing with the pandemic? How do your experiences in missionary work inspire your writing? Katherine Ruth Hofer: I have been dealing well with the pandemic, thank you for asking. I managed to avoid catching anything since the outbreak began, and I have recently been vaccinated. I have also been lucky to do quite well on my own in my apartment here in Budapest, and have relished the time working at home, though I have missed my favorite cafés.
My experiences as a missionary have inspired my writing probably more than I realize, in that they have afforded me a perspective on life not available to many people. Namely, this is being called to live by the command to love other people in the devoted way that a missionary undertakes.
If I have learned anything as a missionary, it is how to love others, no matter who they are. This love interweaves with my independent, free-thinking spirit, and I feel that this dynamic comes out in my writing. I try to find the balance between realism and a persistent hope for something beyond, a balance to which God calls me, I believe.
NRM: As a humanitarian and an educator, how personal is writing for you? Who are you writing for? KRH: Writing for me is a very personal and immersive experience. In it, I draw out my inner thoughts and feelings, and in one sense I write for myself, in a very immediate way, and in another sense, there are certainly things I wish to say to others who are not present. I am writing for anyone who needs a breath of fresh air, so to speak. I hope that my poems can do this. I find that the incongruence of truths that exist despite seeming contradiction to be fascinating, and a core feature of my work. I believe that when we take the time to look at life this way, we can all find a deeper understanding, and so really, I am writing for anyone. As a person who has filled different roles in my adult life, I have likely come to this belief from the many kinds of people I have met.
An important note to make is that my more autobiographical poems about my past are for people I still know today, and for people whom I no longer know, to say things I had never been able to say at the time.
NRM: What do you love about your poetry? While we’re at it, how do you think people’s assumptions of you influence your works and artistic role? KRH: One thing I love about my poetry is that I can express notions that I find I do not express otherwise. In some ways, it is an even deeper dive than diary-keeping, something I had been doing for years until I started focusing on producing poems. I do continue to keep a diary, but my sights have shifted, and I now find my time writing best spent by making notes for poems on the bus or tram, or in concentrated work at my desk or on my couch. I find there seems to be a plethora of poems to pull out of my mind and heart, and so it is endlessly exciting and truly a thrill. I write as much as my time allows. I often feel the desire to explain my point of view, as a reaction to what I feel are other people’s assumptions of me. I have overcome my past, but memories have a way of sneaking up behind me when I most wish to be unencumbered. Assumptions can be restricting, but in the face of these, I try to find joy in defying expectations. When I write, I try to express what I find to be true, hoping that people can listen. I am a person who continues to evolve, in ways both purposefully chosen and unconscious. I used to be quite shy, but now I would say I have learned how to trust others and express myself, though I can still be reserved in some respects. A portion of what I write has been written to compensate for the times I was not heard, as I now find that I am a person with much to say.
NRM: Your works, like “The Reluctant Partier”—a personal favorite—offer an introspective view about one’s struggle on self-image, connection, and social withdrawal. Was this style a self-discovery? Who are your early writing influences? KRH: I would say that my style is definitely an exploration, and I believe my method is akin to turning over a concept, or self-concept, in my mind so that I can see all of the facets which make it up, sort of the way a person would turn over a crystal in their hand to see all of the light refracted within it. I do discover pieces of the puzzle of my life, and in that there is much self-discovery, and putting words to the things I already believe is extremely gratifying.
My earliest poetic influence, to choose the first significant poet, was Emily Dickinson. I had a book of her poetry as a girl, a Scholastic edition. Also, I am her sixth cousin, five times removed, so I feel that this link emphasizes how important a writer she has been and even now continues to be, for me. As a teenager, I discovered e e cummings in a textbook, and fell in love. Since then, I have read much of his work, and am still inspired.
NRM: Are you the loneliest when writing or when socializing? KRH: I would say the answer is, when socializing, as I sometimes miss my close friends while with people I do not know as well. Many of my close friends are scattered around the globe. However, these days, I do try to appreciate the people with whom I happen to be spending time, even if a part of me has its reservations.