All You Need Is a Pen and Paper

“C-a-t. Cat“ That was one of the first words I ever learned to spell all the way back in kindergarten when I was too afraid to say a single word to anyone. It was fascinating and relieving to be able to express myself on a sheet of paper, because that way I didn’t have to worry about talking at all. I could just write it down instead.

Every day we would learn a new word and I was able to write new sentences and stories using it, twisting it around and rearranging it in different ways. The simple conjunction of the letters of the alphabet allowed me to write whatever came to my mind. It was like an everlasting chain of my imagination flowing onto a blank canvas for everyone to read.

On my parents’ birthdays, I would draw them pictures and underneath I’d write them a little story to go with it. It was so much fun that I would write every sentence in a different color and decorate my titles for hours.

Over the course of many years, after writing hundreds of book reports, and history reports, I began to see writing as something dull and annoying. I was sick of writing summaries of the stories I had read, or writing about species of trees, it was tiring and it was useless. Writing reports became obstacles with deadlines, that I always left for the absolute last minute to just crank something out and put it on paper; quantity seemed to be more important than quality at the time.

I am happy to say that today I have grown to like writing papers, but only essays on relatively liberal topics. It may be a little picky, but it’s what I enjoy doing. Writing allows me to express myself and my opinions on certain subjects rather than just listing various facts and numbers about some historic figure, spread out into a 5 page report. When I get to express myself through writing it always feels like a piece of the shy little kindergartner that I was is still a part of me, invisible, but still present in thought.