The Rare Occasion That School Teaches Us About Ourselves

I received my first real writing assignment when I was 12. Tasked with filling a page I was overwhelmed. I had never written more than a paragraph! Hearing my dismay the teacher suggested that I write about something I liked. “Something I like” I thought to myself. At the time camping was a common activity with my family, I thoroughly enjoyed camping, and I came to the conclusion that I had to write on that. What happened next I could have never prepared for, my pencil was moving of its own volition, Possessed it effortlessly filled my paper. The child holding that pencil was amazed with what was happening, never had I expressed myself quite like this. As my mind, heart, and hand worked together I developed a special place in my heart for words and writing. From then the daily writing assignment was something I looked forward to. Given ten Minutes (which was never enough) to take the suggested daily writing prompt I would weave obscure tales and narratives that reflected my interests and friends. When it came time to share I was usually the first to offer, I enjoyed enrapturing the class with my words. They were listening to what I had written, Laughing with me! The class, invested in my story would often moan in anguish when I ended my adventure with my common catchphrase “and then I woke up” their reaction would bring a smile to my face. Their audible indication that they had been listening was special to me. When the school year ended so did the prompts. Writing on my own? What would be the point in that? I failed to realize the outlet that writing had been. With no real direction I lost my passion to write and express myself. Sure the feeling came back from time to time in the occasional writing assignment but it never stuck. It may have taken a long time but I have picked it back up. Despite my lack of knowledge, I move forward doing what I enjoy. In time I hope to be a better writer but I will never achieve this goal by sitting Idly by.