On Desire, Obstacle and Persistence 

Dateline—May 8, 2017
Louisville, Kentucky
The day after the day after the Kentucky Derby

The Kentucky Derby is a feat of endurance not just for the horses and their attendants, but for participants. When it began in 1872, the founders could not have guessed “the greatest two-minutes in sports” would someday be preceded by a month of celebration  For Louisvillians, the build-up to the race is entertaining, and sometimes inconvenient. The festival invites us to marathon, steamboat race, balloon glow, bed race and rat race. Some of us adore the roar of thunderous military planes followed by the largest fireworks display in North America. Others stay home to comfort terrified pets and stock our air raid shelters. Those who live or work downtown complain bitterly about the blocked streets and frequent parking closures, trying to always look on the bright side, even while stopped for forty-five minutes in traffic as the tenacious parade waves at its soggy audience. Despite the inconveniences, we can’t help but feel a smidgen of admiration for the people who plan and attend these events. No matter the weather and other obstacles, they persist.
 
This year, the Ohio Valley endured a mini-deluge, a bit less wet than the meteorologists had expected but more than the celebrants desired. On Derby Day, the sun played peek-a-boo between showers, until minutes before the race began. Then, the clouds parted and the celestial light shined like a blessing on all those damp fascinators in the crowd at Churchill Downs, listed as the second biggest in history. An audience of 167,227 watched twenty horses run for a blanket of roses. This meant the thrill of victory for one horse and 19 agonies of defeat for the rest. Lost money. Lost pride. Lost one big chance.  No regrets.  
 
In the thirty-plus years I’ve lived in Louisville, I don't remember the winners as much as the stories. Trainers emerging from years of near-winning, jockeys recovered from injuries, horses with less-than-ideal-bloodlines becoming champions. Humans and equines unite, determined to beat the odds. 
 
My favorite 2017 Derby story is about Patch—the one-eyed horse. A condition requiring the removal of his left eye should have ended his racing career. Adding to his deficit was his Derby #20 rail position, which put 19 horses on his blind side. Patch wasn’t expected to win, place or show. Nevertheless, his odds migrated from 40-1 to 13-1. Patch’s story created empathy — for the determination to run despite what seemed an impossible obstacle. His story is ours.
 
Story begins when desire encounters obstacle.  In writing, the tension and movement created by desire, obstacle and response gives shape to a narrative—also known as “the arc.”  The real-life narrator/character, like the protagonist in fiction, must fight or flee, surrender or persist.  
 
In memoir workshop, we often consider what’s at stake for the narrator/character. How did she respond to a series of obstacles, large or small? In personal essay workshop, we discuss the importance of the narrator’s journey. Why does he choose to narrate a particular experience? What does he discover? What does he want his readers to understand?
 
The fact that Patch did not win the Derby does not dilute his story, which is about dream and struggle. No surprise that the winning horse had been named Always Dreaming by his hopeful owners.

Join a small group six-week workshop beginning next week:

• Memoir Workshop begins Monday, May 15—6 to 8:30 PM
• Essay Workshop begins Tuesday, May 16—10 to 12:30 PM
• Memoir Workshop begins Wednesday, May 24—10 to 12:30 PM