Thea Shogren

Writer / Educator / Storyteller

about

Thea Shogren holds a BA in Creative Writing from Arizona State University. She is a Teach for America Corps member and a 7th grade teacher. She’s pursuing a Master’s in secondary education while simultaneously writing poems and essays about young adulthood.

recent posts

  • The Young American Paradox

    I’m walking on a treadmill in my gym, which has large windows overlooking a lake. The lake is man-made—this is a desert town after all—but it creates a lovely scene regardless: an urban park near the central business district, filled with young couples pushing strollers, friends sprawled on blankets in the grass, and retired couples taking leisurely strolls. It’s beautiful, and I find these community spaces so valuable—places where people can simply exist, breathing fresh air and taking in scenery alongside other humans. As I watch this scene unfold, I feel grateful and somewhat at peace.

    I say “somewhat” because part of me also feels uneasy. My background noise for this lovely landscape is a podcast about the rise of autocracy in America. Talk about juxtaposition.

    This moment doesn’t hold any earth-shattering significance, but it makes me reflect on the strange phenomenon that is my life right now as a young person in the United States.

    I’m at a point where I feel energized and eager to start my career, learn, and grow. I’ve adopted healthy habits (that gym being Exhibit A) and improved both my daily routine and overall life. I’ve embraced change, learned to enjoy my own company, and leaned into my community. I’ve launched new initiatives that have reignited old passions. I’ve pursued learning for learning’s sake, working to become a more well-rounded version of myself (more on this in a future post—I have many thoughts). But I think this pursuit might actually be feeding some of my negative emotions.

    Hear me out: I’m a huge fan of education. I work in it, for goodness’ sake. But my pursuit of knowledge and my commitment to being an engaged, aware citizen frequently bring me down. They remind me that my life doesn’t exist in a vacuum.

    While I walk on my treadmill and watch young families stroll leisurely by the lake, somewhere else, another family is torn apart. While I start my first student teaching job, excited by new possibilities, half of my roster of Latino students does not show up. Is it a coincidence that the ICE raids were happening on the same street as the school, mere blocks away? I don’t know.

    I think what I’m trying to say is, I’ve felt genuinely happy in so many aspects of my life lately. I’m embracing the freedoms that come with young adulthood, and I have so much to look forward to in both my personal life and career. But with all the horrific things happening in our country—some right in the very neighborhoods where I work—it feels almost wrong to feel this happy. This is not to say I’m slipping into despair, but I am working through some complex emotions.

    At the end of the day, we can only control what’s within our reach. We can stand by our neighbors, fight for our marginalized communities, acknowledge the evils in our world, and use whatever privilege we have for good.

  • Post-grad, switching gears, and leaning into the uncertainty of the early twenties

    I’m sitting alone in a small neighborhood bar with my computer, journal, and a lovely little cocktail with vodka, lemon, and rosemary. Today is the eve of beginning my first post-grad “big girl job.” I’m feeling all of the excitement, nerves, and uncertainty that come with a new endeavor of this significance. Is this the moment I’ve been dreaming of for years? Short answer, no. But I couldn’t be more thrilled with where I’m at, where I’m going, and the pursuit of figuring it all out as I go.

    I finished my bachelor’s degree a little over two months ago. For three years, I studied rhyme and meter, narrative and form. I picked apart sonnets, scribbled messy villanelles, and read book after book of poetry. And I loved it, truly. I loved it so much that for the longest time I pictured myself building a career in writing. I never knew what that meant. I dreaded the question from older relatives after telling them my field of study: “what are you going to do with that?” I didn’t know then. I would make up something different every time. “I’m going to be a copy editor! I plan to work in publishing! I’m going to get an MFA and write a book of poetry! I’m going to be a travel writer!”

    If I’m being completely transparent, I don’t know the answer, now, either. That’s sort of how I got here. I had a bit of an epiphany a few nights ago, lying awake in my too hot bedroom (it’s summer and I live in Arizona). As I said before, I’m so happy with where I’m at in my life. I’m starting my career as a 7th grade teacher at a college preparatory school tomorrow. I will meet my new colleagues, tour the school, and prepare to begin teaching next week. And I am ecstatic. But that’s not the only thing I’m feeling. I feel that, although I’m pursuing a career that’s academic and something that I’m passionate about, I’ve lost my identity as a writer. 

    When you spend the whole of your college career dedicated to one thing and land in a job that has little to do with that thing, it’s confusing. I’ve always thought about teaching in the back of my mind, and in the uncertainty of my senior year of college, Teach for America seemed like a perfect opportunity. I’ve always been passionate about education, and TFA’s mission of educational equity aligned with my personal values. That’s what I tell people when they ask me why I chose it, anyway. And don’t get me wrong, it is a completely true statement. I love my TFA community and I’m enthusiastic to begin my career in education. But there might be another reason—one which I’m not sure if I’ve ever fully acknowledged. I don’t think I’m good enough to make it as a writer.

    Wow! What a scary thing to admit. I spent three years studying creative writing because it is the thing I’m deeply passionate about. I love literature and I want to devote my life to writing new things for people to read. However, it’s an intimidating field to get into. I’ve been surrounded by successful poets for so long, and the impostor syndrome is real. I always thought about pursing a Master of Fine Arts degree in poetry right after undergrad, but I felt my portfolio and my resume weren’t robust enough. How sad that I didnt even try. But how incredible that I get to be in the classroom changing the lives of so many students!


    Moral of the story, I need an outlet for writing. I have thoughts, poems, and stories that need to be shared. I have a degree in writing for a reason, and I am going to put it to use. That’s where you all come in! If you made it this far, I love you. Welcome to theashogren.com.