In every room I have lived in, Woolf’s A Room of One’s Own is one of the first books I place on the shelf. Between cities, countries, situationships, relationships, work in hospitality and lecturing jobs around the world, I have continually sought a space which may have the conditions I wish to write, to think, to dream. Because, as Woolf explains: “A woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write […] Intellectual freedom depends upon material things. Poetry depends upon intellectual freedom.”
There have been many times when I have almost given up on this pursuit. Coming from where I have, the concept of being a writer has always been said to be somebody else’s dream, and within a series of low-paid, highly-skilled jobs and somewhat elite art events, this notion has been reproduced time and time again. Yet, inspired by Woolf and the others noted in this anthology, I continue to try. I want to read fiction about the characters and experiences I would have identified with when first starting university all those years ago. I want to add to those voices on the shelf that speak about women’s representation and class in a nuanced way. In her essay, Woolf explores the effect of the negation of women’s voices in history how, in this absence, women become othered, placed inferior, misrepresented. I hope to continue to write so my specific story does not remain unspoken or misunderstood, and in my teaching, I hope to encourage diverse students to put a name to their experience, too. Because, as Audre Lorde puts it, in the process of articulation, individuals can “put a name to the nameless so that it can be thought”.
First published by Hogarth Press, 1929, and widely available today, including in the Penguin Great Ideas series
A Personal Anthology 