“Writing Throughout My Life”
Writing is a channel through which people can communicate their ideas, emotions, and experiences. In my life, writing has only played a key role in my education, but it opened a new door for me. Today, I now have a different perspective on writing in general.
When I was very young, I lived in California with all of my family. We moved from city to city about 8 times so staying in touch with everyone I knew was quite difficult. Most of my family lived in northern California, where I lived all the way in the south. I would call and text and sometimes even write letters to my grandparents, but we soon drifted apart. After we finally settled in a house (well only for 6 years), school became a huge component in my life. Both of my parents were strict on grades and schooling. My mom was a teacher and my father was a computer engineer who could figure out any math problem given to him (yeah I know just my luck). So even from the beginning, I had something to live up to. In elementary school, it was easy. The writing assignments were easy and they allowed my creative mind to flourish. My sixth grade year I was still in California and I loved it. My teachers were great, and while the writing assignments called for more critical thinking, it was still straightforward and simple. Writing assignments for school had a due date and a purpose, a grade. Therefore, I had thought that you only write to answer a prompt or to learn something. Then I moved to Nevada for seventh grade, and that was when everything went downhill.
Before seventh grade, I only wrote for critical school assignments, like essays. But, my English teacher, Ms. Little, made us keep diaries. Everyday we would be “checked” on what we wrote, whether it was describing our day, or what we ate for breakfast, we just had to write about something. We weren’t even graded. Earlier, I thought you always needed an educational reason to write or learn something from it. My teacher wanted us to write about nonsense and not even be graded on it! I thought it was ridiculous and I wasn’t able to fully grasp the topic. I ended up hating my English teacher (sorry Ms. Little) and was angry because I didn’t understand why i disliked her so much. My last two years in middle school were probably my toughest years with writing. I didn’t enjoy it then and it just seemed like a chore. I had certain rules and templates that I had to follow and I could never write about what I wanted. I wasn’t able to express my creativity and writing was not fun anymore.
High school came and it was the same. Now that I’m a junior, I don’t whine and complain about it. I write what I need to, get good grades, and move on. I don’t have a piece of work that I show off or one that I’m especially proud of. Writing is just a scale for my teachers and professors to determine my grade in their class and that’s that. I know this probably sounds bleak and boring but I did find a way to express my beliefs and feelings. For me, it’s a more creative approach to expressing yourself: painting.
My parents thought it would be a good idea to put me in painting classes, since all I was ever doing was homework (yup I was a nerd I know). I was the youngest person there and felt extremely intimidated. After I made some friends, the class wasn’t so bad. Our teacher taught us some basic rules about colors and I started to enjoy it. But, once we actually began painting, a whole new world opened for me. I could express my creativity, emotions, and thoughts by just picking a specific color! Depending on whether I chose to paint a landscape or a portrait of my art teacher, I was able to convey my ideas and it had nothing to do with my grades.
For me, painting was my version of writing. It was my way of communicating my emotions and “painting a picture” of my experiences. Writing for school has always been tolerable and not too difficult. Personally, writing for personal meaning and reflection was not a fit for me. It just didn’t make sense. But, writing led me to begin painting and I will always be thankful for that. In the end, it doesn’t really matter the medium in which you reveal your ideas, emotions, and experiences. It’s what you take from it, and what you learn from it afterwards.
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