Writing Roots, Writing Futures: A Journey Through Memory and Purpose
Published on: 04/29/2025
In a world that often prioritizes speed over reflection and surface over substance, slowing down to write your story becomes a quiet revolution. Programs like the Sankofa Writing Intensive have emerged as powerful spaces where writers are invited to engage not just with technique but with truth—personal, historical, and cultural. Here, writing becomes more than expression; it becomes transformation.
From the Akan language of Ghana, Sankofa means “to go back and get it.” It reminds us that there is wisdom in returning to our origins, in retrieving what we may have forgotten or lost. The writing that emerges from this philosophy is rich with memory, layered with meaning, and deeply rooted in identity. Through this lens, storytelling becomes a bridge between generations, between silence and voice, between history and hope.
The Past as a Creative Compass
Too often, writers are taught to look ahead—imagine the future, innovate, and invent. While this is important, the Sankofa Writing Intensive encourages something slightly different: looking back to move forward. The past is not a weight in this space but a compass.
Participants begin by exploring their personal and ancestral histories. These might include family traditions, migration stories, cultural practices, or childhood memories that shape how they see the world. Through prompts, reflective journaling, and group conversations, they discover how these experiences can serve as rich foundations for fiction, poetry, memoirs, and essays.
In this process, writers often uncover overlooked details—songs their grandmother used to hum, stories told in dialects now fading, injustices endured in silence. These aren’t just memories. They are material. They are meaning. Writing from these places fosters deeper authenticity and emotional resonance.
Finding the Courage to Tell the Hard Truths
Writing honestly is not always easy. For many, telling the truth—especially about personal or generational pain—requires courage. It means confronting loss, trauma, erasure, or shame. The Sankofa Writing Intensive doesn’t shy away from this. Instead, it creates a safe and affirming environment where writers can begin to say what they’ve long carried in silence.
Workshops emphasize trust, empathy, and listening. Peer feedback is given not as a critique but as encouragement. Writers are supported in writing through fear and uncertainty, discovering that their vulnerability is not a weakness—it’s a gift.
Whether someone is writing about surviving displacement, navigating dual cultural identities, or reckoning with systemic injustice, the program helps them build the confidence to speak up. These truths are not written for shock value or pity but to reclaim agency, invite dialogue, and validate shared experiences.
From Private Journals to Public Platforms
One of the most potent transitions in the Sankofa Writing Intensive is the move from writing privately to writing publicly. Many participants arrive thinking of themselves as journal writers or casual storytellers, but when they leave, they see themselves as authors, speakers, and changemakers.
The program guides participants in preparing work for public sharing—whether that’s submitting to literary journals, reading at open mics, or creating digital content. More importantly, it helps them understand the responsibility that comes with having a platform.
When someone writes with authenticity and cultural grounding, their words can resonate far beyond their communities. They can challenge stereotypes, educate others, inspire action, and create moments of collective healing. The intensive encourages writers to think about what they want to say, who they want to reach, and how they want to be remembered.
In many cases, writers see how their storytelling can serve as an intergenerational bridge—connecting their children, students, or communities to stories that might otherwise be lost to time.
A Community of Purpose and Possibility
Writing doesn’t have to be a solitary act. One of the most celebrated aspects of the Sankofa Writing Intensive is the strong sense of community it builds. Writers of different backgrounds, ages, and life paths unite in a shared commitment to honoring memory and crafting purposeful narratives.
In this space, comparison fades. Instead, mutual respect grows. Participants cheer each other on during writing breakthroughs, support each other through emotional discoveries, and celebrate each other’s growth. The environment is more than supportive—it’s transformative.
Facilitators often serve as mentors rather than instructors, guiding participants with compassion, cultural awareness, and personal experience. The community that forms becomes a well of encouragement long after the program ends, with many alums continuing to collaborate, critique, and inspire one another years later.
The intensive also helps writers think long-term. What legacy will your words leave behind? What kind of writer—and ancestor—do you want to be? These questions are not rhetorical. They are central to the Sankofa ethos.
Legacy on the Page and Beyond
Ultimately, the stories in the Sankofa Writing Intensive are about more than individual expression. They are acts of cultural preservation, resistance, and vision. They become part of a more extensive archive of truth-telling that values marginalized voices and celebrates diverse histories.
Writers who participate in this journey walk away with more than polished pages. They leave with a deeper connection to who they are, where they come from, and where they are going. Their writing no longer feels disconnected or uncertain—it feels rooted, powerful, and necessary.
For many, this experience redefines what it means to be a writer. It's no longer about chasing publication or acclaim. It becomes about bearing witness, making meaning, and offering something honest and enduring to the world.
As the Sankofa symbol reminds us, retrieving what we’ve left behind is never too late. The stories waiting within us are not just remnants of the past but blueprints for the future.