Why I Write: Part Two
It was the beginning of second semester of my freshman year at the University of Michigan. From the first hour of my first-year writing class, English 125, I knew I was facing a challenge to erase all the writing conventions I had practiced in high school. From simply reading through the syllabus I knew I was being asked to genuinely examine my writing, and to build my own set of rules.
I have never enjoyed making up my own rules; I prefer to follow somebody else’s.
Look both ways before you cross the street, color inside the lines, eat your vegetables.
Graduate high school, go to college, get a job.
Five paragraph essays were my preferred form of writing throughout high school. The structured style told me exactly where to place my ideas and how to formulate them into an organized argument. Rules make me feel comfortable. I can work with rules.
That first day in English 125 we read Terry Tempest Williams’ “Why I Write,” a short essay where the author states, fairly repetitively, all of the reasons why she writes. We read aloud, circulating Williams’ ideas around the room. And as I made the author’s words my own, I felt no connection to her exploration into why she writes. “I write because I believe in words. I write because I do not believe in words” (Williams 6). It sounded forced and artificial; as if Williams was trying to make some point her readers (or perhaps just myself as a reader) had no interest in understanding. So, one can imagine my unease when our first homework assignment was to create our own Why I Write piece, copying Williams’ style.
A clear format to follow when organizing my paper? Great! Creating my own rules and reasons for why I write? I’d rather lose access to my sister’s Netflix account.
When I face a lack of structure I can have a difficult time figuring out what to do. It might be a jumble of ideas, a complete lack of clarity on an assignment, or my confusion about a recent event or social interaction. In these cases, I turn to writing. I make lists. I take notes. I create a record of my opinions and feelings at a particular point in time. I never thought my habit of recording and decoding the world around me would classify me as a writer. But when I reflect on these times from where I am now, I place a much greater value on writing as a process. Writing is my way of bringing order and structure back into my life. If I did not write, I would be lost.
Lost is an effective way to describe my feelings at the start of my English 125 “Why I Write” piece. I had no idea where to begin. I couldn’t think of one good reason why I write, let alone 500 words worth. Luckily, I had a friend in the class dealing with similar writer’s block. We sat together on the floor of her dorm room, listening to music, trying to come up with ideas. The Beatles’ Here Comes the Sun plays on iTunes? Of course! I write because the sun is coming. The writing session continued this way, my open Word document chronicling whatever came to mind or entered my senses until my friend and I had both fulfilled the assignment’s length requirement. At the end of that paper I was no closer to a deeper understanding of why I write, unless my reason for writing was to strive for all A’s in my classes.
Looking back, I realize I was the one being artificial. I tried to avoid the true question of the assignment, and stopped myself from taking my writing seriously. However, I now understand that my English 125 essay truly did some good in helping me to explore my writing. I used to believe that the end result of a piece of writing was the only part worth acknowledging. But when I look back on English 125 from this point in my life, my first semester of my junior year, I can appreciate the steps I took during the writing process. Furthermore, I have come to understand that my writing process alone from that first English assignment answers the question of why I write. I had used writing to create organization out of my thoughts. I wrote to comment on and clarify the world around me. And although I did not recognize it until much later, I realize that I made a mistake while writing. I had been searching for one good reason why I write. However, I didn’t need to think of a good reason. It does not matter why or how I express myself, so long as I do what works for me. Throughout the process of writing that first English 125 paper I continued to make choices as a writer; I did not simply hand-in an essay with everything that popped into my head. I had, for the first time I can remember, used a form of essay or narrative writing to organize my thoughts and create a sense of clarity from all the ideas rolling around in my mind. Reflection, trying to create that clear picture from the blurs that pass me by in today’s fast-paced world, is why I write.
I write to process.
I write to reveal my truth.
I write because after a cloudy day, the sun will always come.