Before You Read:
This project prompted my class to look back on previous writing experiences to find out why we think about writing the way that we do. We were also told to form a “theory of writing”: basically what writing is, how we use it, etc. Since this project is about my personal experiences, my approach was to “talk” through it and write whatever came to mind. I hope you can follow my wandering thoughts! This project ultimately taught me that writing is a creative outlet that should be enjoyed, and that it can be used to help us listen to ourselves even when we don’t know how to.
We’ve all had to write a paper that we didn’t want to. In my experience, when a paper was assigned, regardless of what it was about, my classmates and I would immediately think, “I wish I didn’t have to do this, this is stupid.” But what makes us think that to begin with? Writing, like any other art form, should be enjoyable, right? It should be a creative outlet where we can express our innermost thoughts and share them. But it often feels like the opposite.
I come from a writing background of research papers: in elementary school, my class was allowed to write creative, original stories every week. However, as we transitioned into middle and high school, we were made to write more and more academic papers. I, like many of my classmates, didn’t enjoy writing these papers. They felt forced and unnecessary, like our teachers needed to give us busy work.
This “busy work” was inevitable in every class, but it seemed to be the most common in English, when we had to write analysis papers. For example, one year for a summer reading assignment, we had to write a “journal” for each chapter of the book that summarized what happened and identified themes present in the story. Usually this assignment would be a paper, so the journals were a welcome change. But once we got back to school and turned in the journals, we were told to write a paper on the major themes in the story. After essentially doing this in the original assignment, the paper felt redundant; it put extra time on a subject that should’ve been done quickly.
And then there were the rules. You’ve probably heard them before: “Never use personal pronouns.” “Don’t use contractions.” “Write five paragraphs, and have a thesis statement in your introduction.” If we didn’t follow these rules in our writing, our papers would come back with corrections marked in red ink all over them. What made this worse was if you had really tried to write a “good” paper—to spend late nights writing a well-thought out research paper only to receive a passing grade. Sometimes it seemed the inverse was true as well; a paper that felt like it repeated the same statements over and over could come back with a perfect grade.
Because of all of this, I’ve never considered myself as a writer. Even when my teachers and classmates complimented my writing, I never felt like I was deserving of the title. After all, my writing was simply “good” because I knew how to follow the rules that were laid out for us. But what makes a writer to begin with? Is it a title reserved for those who connect new sequences of words on paper or follow a set of rules in an essay? Science has shown that we communicate using multiple mediums, so why should the term “writer” be limited to journalists and novelists? Perhaps it’s not.
Often in music, the term “songwriter” is used to describe someone who creates lyrics for a song, but it can also refer to someone who writes the chords that play under the lyrics. Therefore, shouldn’t a composer, one who writes music, be considered a writer too? And what about choreographers in dance? “Choreography” usually refers to the sequence of moves a dancer will perform, but it can also mean the written notation of such moves. I have done both of these types of writing; shouldn’t that mean I can consider myself a writer in those regards?
What I find interesting is that all of these mediums often showcase our innermost feelings, even when we don’t intentionally write them as so. This is how writing teaches us to listen not only to others, but to ourselves as well. In the few weeks of being in a first-year writing class, I’ve already learned so much about myself by simply writing every day in class. It feels a bit like talking to myself—I may not know what I need to say, but even writing the first thing that pops into my mind helps.
For instance, the free writing we do in class has made me realize I actually enjoy writing; I just don’t enjoy it in the context of an assignment. When the writing has guidelines and specific things a teacher wants to see, it feels to me like trying to fit myself into a mold that’s not the right shape. However, when I’m allowed to express my thoughts (much like I can in the free writing or even in this text), I find that I want to continue writing.
So why exactly does an essay make a student think “I don’t want to do this”? I believe it’s in part because of the rules and restrictions that get imposed on the assigned essays; it’s inevitable that at least one student won’t want to simply because they don’t want to, but I think other students would be more open to writing papers if they didn’t feel so restricted by them. I can speak from experience — once I was allowed to write whatever I wanted or needed to, writing became a method of self-expression rather than a chore.
The freedom that comes from this kind of writing is what opens my mind to say what it needs to. The irony is that I’ve done this in my art for years—every time I step away from the controls and allow myself to improvise, my deepest feelings are expressed. I remember there was one day after a friend of mine had passed away that I decided that I wanted to dance. I was tired of crying, so I thought, “Why not get my feelings out another way?” As soon as I put on the music, my emotions took over. No one saw my dancing and I don’t remember now what I did, but I do remember that it was some of the best improvisation I’ve ever done—all because I let my emotions do the talking.
All of this has opened my mind to more artistic expression, writing included. After some friends of mine started to write their own stories simply because they had an idea and wanted to, I’ve been inspired to do the same thing myself and dip my feet back into the waters of creative writing. The idea scares me, but I think it will help me to grow as a writer. I hope that continuing to write—not just in music and dance, but now in words as well—will open my ears to more of what my mind has to say.