I write as a challenge.
I write to teach my students.
I write to improve myself.
I write as an expression of my thoughts.
I write to share what I do in my classroom.
I write for enjoyment.
I've never LOVED writing-but I'm starting to enjoy the challenge of writing as an adult. Growing up, I vividly remember writing papers for school(spaced every other line for editing purposes) and having my mom read the paper and then proceed to 'rip it apart.' I remember the frustration of having to make corrections, take out useless words that didn't add value, fix spelling errors(thank goodness I was a good speller), reword sentences, fix sentence fragments, take apart run-on sentences, add description, and improve my topic sentence and conclusions. I would sit there in frustration and think that my mom was the meanest mom in the whole world for doing this to me. Little did I know, this was all part of the process of learning how to write and creating a strong writing foundation. It helped that she was a teacher and knew what she was talking about. Of course, I didn't realize her impact until I was much older. Now, I sit here next to my 14-year-old daughter and read her papers on Google Docs and I experience flashbacks of me sitting by my mother. Now I'm on the other side of the editing. I can hear my mother's voice as I edit her paper. I see many of the same things that I used to do as a writer. She gets frustrated...I get frustrated...am I harming her...helping her? Is there a perfect balance of constructive criticism, feedback, and praise? I'm not sure I've found that balance yet.
In high school, my friend Joe encouraged me to write poetry. For fun...
I told him that I couldn't. He assured me that I could. He would pass me a poem in the hallway(you know...notebook paper folded up into a little square) and I would read it and laugh...because he was hilarious. Then it was my turn to try. I would attempt to write a poem, send it back via the same method, and he would say, "Good job-see you CAN do it." We did this for awhile, I don't remember for how long this went on, but I remember being proud of myself and I remember Joe as someone who encouraged me as a writer.
Fast forward to college-THE Ohio State University! I was 19 and I had a creative writing class during one of my elementary education strands with the coolest professor ever. She definitely wasn't the norm. She was approachable, down to earth, an optimist, she encouraged persistence and resilience, and she wore her long brownish/grayish hair in a ponytail straight down her back. Her name was Carolyn and she made writing fun! We sang operas based off of our writing, had 3rd grade pen pals, and acted out our poetry. She had a cart of writing supplies-it was a teacher's dream! She had papers of all colors, textures, and sizes. She had colored pencils, felt tip pens, markers, and fun pencils. We were instructed to write whatever we wanted. For the first time ever in my life, I had a choice-I could write a poem, a story, a narrative, my innermost thoughts! It made writing enjoyable. Now, as teachers of students, we KNOW and SEE the positive effects of CHOICE and can see how this impacts a child and their engagement.
After that creative writing class at age 19, the only writing that I did was for academic purposes. I wrote papers upon papers during graduate school and for post-graduate courses. Then work and family got in the way...and no writing was done unless it was for an academic purpose.
I started this blog. I started it on a whim. I had been reading educational blogs via Twitter and I felt inspired to start my own. I needed a challenge, I wanted to communicate with others in the field of education, and I wanted to share what was happening in my classroom. It was uncomfortable at first and sometimes it still is!
Would people think it was self-centered to write a blog?
Would people think that I thought I was better than them?
Would people think I was annoying?
Would anyone EVEN read the blog?
Maybe my mom would read it-if I sent her the link via email. OR maybe my close friend would read it if I told her about it. OR maybe someone would end up on my blog by accident.
I had many doubts, fears, insecurities, and anxieties about putting my writing out there for anyone to read. It was risky...and I don't do risky very well.
Now, two years later and almost 100,000 hits later, I'm shocked at the smallness of our world. I can publish a new post and SOME people will read it. Sometimes certain posts are read more than others-and that's fine with me! It's not about the number of hits. It's a creative outlet, it's a new challenge for me, it's helped me to share my voice, it's helped me to become a better writer, it's helped me to become a more thoughtful teacher, and it's connected me with some amazing people. The best thing is that I am STILL learning how to be a writer(I have a ways to go!) and I have new people shaping me a writer.
SO...I'm not sure if I should thank my mom for helping me as a writer, or Joe from high school for encouraging me to write poems for fun, or Carolyn the writing teacher from Ohio State, or other teacher bloggers for inspiring me, or my students for giving me topics to write about. All of these people have shaped me a writer and have helped me to be JUST BRAVE ENOUGH to write this blog.
It has brought me...JOY!