A Room Tied Together With Words

The Gateway? I have never before been in a room with a more diverse array of academic majors. But somehow regardless of our different academic pathways we all found ourselves at the same crossroads, the Minor in Writing. The truth of the matter is we really don’t have much in common other than perhaps the common likeness we share for the written word.  Across from me sit two Art and Design students and to my left a pre-med, but regardless of what brought us to this room in North Quad, we all grew to share a common descriptor…we’re a room full of writers.

I entered this room as someone who loved to write. I was given the chance to revisit my past in an interesting manner and mold it into what I dreamed it might have been the first time around. I got the opportunity to break from my otherwise monotonous days of politics and war-torn conflicts with an hour and a half of just me and my thoughts; me and a blank canvas open for any and all suggestions. If I were to start the course all over again, I would take myself more seriously, make that final leap to identifying as a writer because regardless of however I may have twisted it to be inside my head, I was really a writer all along.

I’ve never really had a problem writing about my personal life, but that being said I never was tasked to write about my personal life for a grade. I never felt quite comfortable leaving my deepest and darkest secrets ready and able to be quantified by a letter grade. If I already felt insignificant would my personal reflections be below average too?

Don’t be afraid to let your thoughts take shape, regardless of the subject matter. Be fearless.

I came in with a goal: come away feeling confident in the work you produced. I feel that as a class we succeeded in that and then some. We left everything we had to say on the table, no stone left unturned.

Good luck and happy writing!

 

 

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