The Not So "Better Lesley"

The Deforestation of Lesley University's MFA of Creative Writing Program

To begin with a disclaimer, as someone once pointed out, I am not getting my MFA to “prove” that I’m a writer. And its not a “fancy degree” either.

I want this MFA for my own reasons.

For one, I simply want an MFA. I got my bachelors, I want a MFA, and then I want a PhD. I also intend on getting a second bachelors and likely a second MFA.

I love being in school and I love learning.

Two, the MFA will grant meeting the best in the business. I’ll meet agents, editors, famous authors.

Three, I’ll make connections and gather a community of writers and I hope to make lifelong friends. Those are the reasons I want an MFA. And that’s why I’m traveling this road to get it so badly.

Disclaimer finished.

I am beyond happy to finally make it to Lesley University.

I’ve weathered through some storms, beaten, bruised and battered going through a traumatic experience at the University of West Georgia, being rejected from Emerson College, jumping ship from Goddard College but ready to continue my Master’s Journey to get my coveted MFA in Creative Writing.

To set the scene, the MFA of Creative Writing program at Lesley University is a low residency model. Which means students only come to campus for an intensive 8 days to study with seminars, readings and other events.

Then after the residency, you go home and work remotely for the next 16 weeks of the semester, by emailing packets of works to your mentor who email back responses.

You communicate with zoom calls or however else the student/mentors decide. There are students from all over the world and all over the state. I live over 1000 miles away from Lesley University’s campus in Cambridge, MA.

And so, I fly out to Cambridge for Lesley’s residency and sure enough, it’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of, and even more.

Based on an analogy I had during a conversation with someone else, and it’s his idea, not mine, after a lifetime of going into rooms where people responded to me with “what are you doing here? We don’t want you here,” Lesley was like walking into a room and everyone cheered “wow! You’re finally here! We’ve been waiting for you.”

At Lesley I felt such a sense of belonging, and expectation, and a lot like a superstar. Everyone knew my name. They all wanted to meet me, talk to me.

I had taken my younger sister to Cambridge with me for my first residency. I had called her “my emotional support human,” and she was invaluable to me. I am extremely introverted, and I needed her like an emotional lifeline.

My first residency experience at Lesley’s was outstanding. There was so much to do. It was rife with love, laughs and experience, with activities. The vibe was off the charts. There were so many people. Pictures being taken. Hugs. Joy.

I can’t even explain it. I’ve never experienced anything like it. It was nothing like what I had gone through at my undergrad English department at University of West Georgia. UWG tried to rip my soul out.

Lesley was like giving me my soul back…PLUS ULTRA (iykyk). It was beyond amazing.

I went back home floating on air. Exhausted, but exhilarated. I hid in my room like a hermit for like four days recovering not willing to see or talk to anyone.

Then disaster strikes. I’m forced to need to take a massive leave of absence from Lesley due to health emergencies.

Finally I returned to Lesley for my second residency after two years and 5 surgeries.

It was like leaving a bomb shelter to go back outside.

Lesley’s lush forest had turned into a desolate desert, completely deforested, cleared out and dead.

From the first day at my second residency, I knew immediately something was wrong.

The vibe…toast.

Secondly, the attendance. I thought where is everyone? Literally. Imagine going from one residency where there were about well over 100 maybe 200 people in attendance, to a residency where there wasn’t even 20 people.

There was no one. I couldn’t believe how empty the room was.

I didn’t know what was going on. But people were talking. Students, mentors and faculty alike quickly began to fill me in. And the horror stories were atrocious.

The dread crept in. I realized I walked into a total and complete nightmare. Like I had been blindfolded and lead into a burning building.

However I’m at residency, 1000 miles from home, 8 days long, and it was only day 1, and my only hope is to survive it until I can get on my return flight, and get out. I began counting the days (and searching for new creative writing programs once I got back to my dorm).

So, the horror stories. What exactly had gone so wrong at Lesley? Why had the lush forest been totally cut down?

Well… “Better Lesley” happened. Better Lesley is a slogan that appeared and repeated when the school began getting “changes” done to I believe when a new president accepted a position at the university.

I was still in a wheelchair at home when this happened, so I was only dimly aware of what was going on due to emails I kept getting in the school’s email inbox. However I wasn’t totally keeping update with that email, and it rarely sent me notifications anyway.

I only knew I kept seeing “Better Lesley” and that they were changing things.

But I knew there students complaints, and programs getting cut, and the new president got a raise, and then…the MFA in Creative Writing program’s coordinator got sacked, suddenly, with no warning. It was shocking, and undeserved.

That was the first super red flag. And after that, rumors began to circulate that our program was being sunset. The program began getting changes made to it, changes that were cutting the legs out of it.

They stopped accepting new students to it, twice.

The signs were on the wall that the MFA in Creative Writing was going to die, while at the same time these rumors were going on, others were trying to insist it wasn’t true.

It was all so confusing. The whole time I’m home attempting to heal and recover from multiple surgeries, and transferring from wheelchair to walker to boot, and really not exactly having an entire clue on what’s happening.

Until I’m fully recovered, and I pay almost $2k out of pocket (requiring a payment plan,) and I fly out to Lesley’s residency, and realize just what a massive mistake I made.

Lesley isn’t what it once was. The program I bought into isn’t here anymore. I’ll finish out my last semester, and then I’m taking a break from pursuing my MFA.

I’ve decided to focus more my writing goals, business goals and art goals, than my student goals for right now. Once higher education has finished with its current upheavals, I’ll go back.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m still massively thankful I went to Lesley. I met great people, and I have no regrets.

I am sad. So, so sad.

The troubles everyone is going through, the people who have been fired, or scalped or have quit. The students who aren’t getting the high-class education they’ve paid for.

It feels like this MFA program was a beautiful jewel, and it was purposefully crushed. I wish I had come here sooner.

I don’t know if Lesley University is going to close, or if its only the MFA program that will maybe get shutdown. I don’t know anything.

All I know is its for my best interest to not go to this school anymore.

As of this moment, the MFA at Creative Writing Lesley is still going. There’s been no one saying its closing, it’s just how it looks to me. And since they aren’t accepting students, I’m the only 2nd semester student. It’s like being in a high school and I’m the only freshman. The school can’t offer me a robust program anymore.

There’s other problems that I haven’t even mentioned yet. Like the mentors I wanted to work with no longer work there. They’ve cancelled programs that drew me towards the school, like publishing opportunities. So main draws of the program are no longer present.

I’ve spoken with one of the department heads and was told even though the school cannot keep its promises, I can’t sue because I had been on a leave of absence, and the fact the school changed while I was out means they aren’t liable.

So yeah. I can’t stay at Lesley anymore. The residency I experienced lacked resources like mentors and classes, so I spent a lot of time just wasting time, having nothing to do. So I spent the end of my days in my dorm researching new creative writing programs. I did find one, so, after my break from school, since I really need one, I’ll go there.

I have a bunch of other MFA and BFA stories in me. It’s been a journey. I’ll keep telling my story, especially once I go to my next creative writing graduate program.

What’s your story? Any college or high school or middle school experiences with writing teachers or writing classes? Tell us! Let’s all hear your story in the comments.