Growing up, most of my writing took place in a small, pink and blue Hello Kitty journal. I look back at the silly things that I wrote with a smile on my face, as I realize how much my goals and opinions have changed over the years. When I would spend time with my Mom in her room, I noticed that she kept a journal. While I would never read it (since I am not a snoop), I was quite intrigued as to what I might find there. I presume she wrote most of her thoughts, what she was struggling with, and what brought her joy. Naturally, I wanted to emulate what she was doing. So I did! I began to write in my journal daily as it was a cathartic and rewarding experience to me. I believe that part of the reason why I enjoy writing is because growing up I didn’t feel the pressure to write a masterpiece. I was just being myself and letting my personality speak through my intriguing thoughts on paper.
In high school, I believe that I wrote the way I thought my teachers wanted me to. Instead of having a unique voice, I would fill my essays with fancy words and analysis that would ensure I would get an A. Looking back, I can clearly understand why I did that, yet I regret not allowing my originality to infiltrate my essay. I dreaded writing essays and research projects, especially. I would frequently procrastinate and depend on the time constraint to get my creative juices flowing. Moving forward onto my freshman year of college, I would read other people’s essays that seemed so much more original than mine. I would wonder why I was never fully satisfied with my work. I was afraid to stumble. I thought that if I tried to voice my true tone that it wouldn’t be good enough. So, I stuck with what was safe, and wondered why I continued to doubt my work.
While the rigidity of writing in high school made me skeptical to fully voice my opinions, my mother’s writing inspired me. A moment that particularly shaped my view of writing was when I came across one of my mother’s Christmas newsletter from 2004. In the letter, she described what was going on in each of her kids’ lives and how proud and blessed she felt. She emphasized how pleased she was with our visit to Ecuador to visit the grandparents. As a young mother with three kids, I can’t imagine how much of a challenge that must have been. From the time difference, to the distinct culture, my mom was very happy with how much Ecuador felt like home to the rest of her family. Upon reading the final words of the letter, I was brought to tears. I quickly came to the realization, that someone other than a professional author, who learned English as a second language could impact a person to such a great extent through their words. The letter had the power of invoking feelings of harmony and an appreciation for my family. In the last year I have learned that writing does in fact serve a purpose, and while each writer may have a different purpose in mind, they share that goal. It has certainly been interesting to see the progression of my writing and how it reflects my outlook on life during that point in time. I would certainly say that I am hopeful to embrace writing with an open heart in the future, because of this experience.
Jessica Roat's Blog 