Tips for Supporting Poets in the Writing Center

I’ve been calling myself a creative writer for as long as I can remember. Long before I knew what syntax meant or how to punctuate dialogue, I was scribbling poems in the margins of my math homework and writing my first “books” on printer paper that my mother would three-hole punch and string together with yarn. Looking back, I realize all my young work shared a common denominator (a term I still managed to learn in between my lines of rhymes): written without the very adult fear of appearing too vulnerable, they lived more in emotion than in plot. 

Now, as an MFA student in DePaul’s Creative Writing & Publishing program and a graduate assistant at the Writing Center, I spend my days toggling between my own drafts and helping writers shape theirs. Most writers come to me with practical assignments—lab reports, personal statements, argumentative essays—but every so often, someone arrives with a poem. And in those sessions, something shifts. 

The stakes are different. The rules are looser. I’m transported back to my earliest days as a writer, playing with language not to persuade or prove, but to feel. To play with words of whimsy to create something both deeply intimate and profoundly vulnerable as it’s shared with a broader audience. 

Because poetry so often resists easy interpretation, Writing Center sessions with poets can feel like unfamiliar terrain. How do you revise what is often meant to remain ambiguous? How do you respond to a piece that feels inseparable from the writer’s sense of self? How do you offer feedback on work that may feel more like confession than composition? 

In my time as both tutor and writer, I’ve learned that poetry sessions aren’t about finding answers or solving a puzzle. They’re about making and holding space for the poet’s voice, for the poem’s complexity, and for the collaborative act of emotional, evocative discovery. Here are five strategies I’ve found helpful when offering feedback on poetry at the Writing Center:

#1: Read It Aloud—Twice!

Poetry lives in sound. When working with a student’s poem, reading it aloud helps both the tutor and writer hear the musicality, cadence, and emotional weight. During poetry sessions, I often encourage students to read it themselves first before offering to read it aloud to them. Hearing the poem through someone else’s voice often illuminates pacing issues, enjambment choices, and tonal shifts that weren’t apparent just by seeing it on the page. 

#2: Respond as a Reader First

Before offering any technical suggestions, I often begin by sharing my authentic reactions as a reader. I ask myself a list of questions: What images lingered? What emotions surfaced? Where did I feel surprised, confused, or moved? Framing my responses with “I noticed…” or “I felt…” gives the writer a sense of how their poem is received and opens up space for further dialogue. Leading with reader-based feedback humanizes the session and reminds the writer that their voice matters.

#3: Ask (Gently) About Intention

After asking myself questions as a tutor and reader, I turn to the writer to pose open-ended questions about intent: “What inspired this piece?” or “What are you hoping to explore, communicate, or express?” These questions give the writer a chance to frame the piece within their own terms and the tutor to guide their feedback accordingly, focusing on what resonates rather than imposing a “correct” reading. Centering the writer’s voice and intention builds trust, especially if the writing is especially personal or experimental. 

Further, asking generative questions allows the writer to articulate their goals. If the writer isn’t sure, that’s okay, too. Discovery is part of the poetic process. But asking about intention and understanding the writer’s vision helps avoid prescriptive edits that might compromise thematic meaning, student agency, and overall authenticity. 

#4: Focus on Image & Language, Lineation & Form

When it comes to offering text-specific, concrete feedback, I like to focus on core poetic devices by zooming in on how the poem uses metaphor, imagery, and word choice. Does the imagery feel fresh and specific? Is repetition being used intentionally? How does diction shape tone? By focusing on craft elements, tutors can initiate discussions that connect craft to effect, validating that poetry is serious writing that deserves the same rigor and respect as any academic genre while helping writers sharpen the tools in their poetic toolboxes.

But poetry is as much about form as it is content—line breaks, stanza structure, and white space matter. I often ask questions like “How did you decide where to break this line?” or “What effect are you hoping to create with this spacing?” These discussions can lead to a thoughtful reconsideration of how form shapes function and demystify craft choices, empowering the writer to revise with intention. 

#5: Honor Vulnerability

Last, and perhaps most importantly, remember that creative work often exposes personal truths and raw emotional experiences. Be mindful of the emotional labor it takes to write poetry—and then also share it—and prioritize creating a safe, affirming space. This doesn’t mean avoiding critique, but it does mean offering it with care. I’ve found that when writers feel safe sharing their creative work, they’re more likely to grow—not just as writers but as creative thinkers and risk-takers. 

Poetry asks us to slow down. To listen. To feel. It teaches students to play with language, to sit in ambiguity, and to hone their voice while fostering empathy, critical thinking, and aesthetic appreciation. And it reminds tutors to ask generative questions, balance encouragement with constructive criticism, and listen more than they speak. 

That makes every poetry session an opportunity not just to support creative growth, but to expand what every great tutoring session should be: a collaborative, generative, and human experience. As a writer, I know what it means to have someone sit beside me and treat my words like they matter, three-hole punching them and stringing them together with yarn. As tutors, we should strive to offer that same grace.