FinalArticle: Why I Write 

 

Some claim that a picture is worth a thousand words. For a writer such as myself, I’d simply claim that a thousand words are equivalent to a thousand words—I’ve never been quite the mathematician, so my mathematical references will not get more complex than that. And so, instead of visual images, I’ve chosen three words to represent why I write. These three words accurately tell my story—the story of why I write.

 

• Meditation

• Audience

• Empowerment

 

 

Meditation:

I’d like to credit my second grade teacher, Mrs. Viviano, for the ignition of my love for writing. My mother would too—as she insists that she remembers every minuet detail about my early writing experiences as a seven-year-old. She loves to remind me of the parent-teacher conferences back in 2002, where she and my teacher would discuss my gifted writing skills for such a young student. Now whether that is accurate, or simply her proud mother complex talking, I cannot quite say. What I do know, is since the start of the creative writing unit in Mrs. Viviano’s classroom, writing is something that has always felt so natural to me.

 

While many find speaking to others comforting, or engaging in relaxation methods such as yoga, I’ve always found writing to be my personal oasis. Cheesy? Quite possibly, but true nonetheless. When something is on my mind, no matter how small, I find comfort in the stroke of a keyboard. Whether for others to read or simply for myself, writing words down on a page or computer screen helps to lift the weight off of my shoulders. When verbally sharing seems out of the question, writing soothes me. It affords me the non-judgmental acknowledgements of my feelings, my actions, and allows me to be selfish. I am not claiming to be un-selfish in all other times of my life—I assume my family would quickly negate that statement—but writing enables that opportunity, unconditionally. To me, writing is relaxing, calming, and the rest of those synonyms one could find on an online thesaurus. And I’m generally a significantly high-stress individual, so naturally, I write often—and thankfully, I’ve attracted some individuals crazy (or bored) enough to read it.

 

 

Audience:

“Thank you for writing this, you don’t know how much this helped me. I’ve been in a dark place and it’s so comforting to read something so relatable, and to see that I’m not alone. Your words have helped me more than you will never know.”

 

I will never forget the feeling of reading this in my inbox. The passage above is drawn from the beginning of an email from a reader, who then went on to discuss extremely personal aspects of her life. She opened up to me—a complete stranger, behind a computer screen. The article highlighted the idea of underage drinking in high school, which it appeared that everyone and their mother was now condoning. Maybe not all mothers, but you get the gist. When surrounded in a world of juvenile mixed drink experimentation, and becoming educated on the guidelines of beer pong in basements, being the token “one” who refrained from the drinking lifestyle can seem uncomfortable. And I was that girl. Through the article, I had apparently stumbled upon another one of those girls.

 

The opportunity to share my voice first arose with a Craigslist advertisement for a new startup Patch.com, and my unemployed 16-year-old self, who was desperately seeking a summer job. Although I admit to being skeptical about taking a job from a Craigslist advertisement, I was both intrigued and desperate. Little did I know, the publication was actually funded by AOL as their online newspaper—or that I would spend the next two years writing bi-weekly opinion columns for the site.

 

It was through Patch.com where I truly discovered the impact of my voice, and how writing could really make a difference in the world. At the time, I had been targeting controversial teen issues—underage drinking, drugs, promiscuity, and the like. I offered my vulnerability as I used my own experiences, my own friend groups, my own observations, and just laid it out on the table—or the computer screen, rather. I touched upon issues that I felt were important, and further, being ignored due to the stigma surrounding them. And for reasons I had not expected at the time, others responded to that.

 

As I attached a separate email at the end of all of my articles, encouraging readers to write to me and share their comments, I was not expecting much action. Honestly, I didn’t know who else was even reading my articles other than my parents and my grandma’s mahjong group—you know how grandmas can be, I knew she was showing those articles to anyone over the age of 60. But my voice, my articles, and what I had to say resonated with people, allowing them to feel a personal connection with me. And that’s all I can truly ask for as a writer, right?

 

The response from my audience drove me to further pursue the world of writing—I felt it as my civic duty. If the personal emails, comments, and positive feedback were showing me that there was a meaning behind what I was doing, I couldn’t allow myself to stop. I had past teachers ask me for permission to use my articles in their classrooms, along with parents wondering if I could sit down and chat with their child—I had apparently greatly aged overnight in their eyes. It quickly became clear to me that my voice had a purpose.

 

My portfolio of articles offered me an acceptance to Northwestern University’s Medill Journalism Summer Program, where I was one of 84 students worldwide to be educated by successful professionals in the field—learning the ins and outs of journalism during an intensive five-week workshop. I obnoxiously printed out all of my Patch articles, shuffled them into a bulging envelope, and prayed that my voice would shine through to the admissions office. At the time, Northwestern University had been my ultimate dream school—but that’s a whole different story. And further, added experience offered me a job as a student reporter for The Chicago Tribune, which then published my works in the Huffington Post. I received a Tribune Towers pass with my picture on it and all—no ones warns you how much you’ll feel like a celebrity when you can waltz right into the Tribune Towers with just the flash of your pass, I tried not to let it get to my head too much. I experimented with different genres, different tones, and different audiences. Even now, I continue to expand my voice and audience by serving as a literary contributor to SHEI magazine, recognized by Teen Vogue as one of the leading college fashion publications. I was, and continue to be, writing to reach an audience in any way I can.

 

 

Empowerment:

Successful writing, to me, doesn’t simply mean having people read your work. While that it definitely a goal of mine, it is not the ultimate one. My dream behind my writing is to empower others through it. Of course, having an audience is great, but encouraging your audience to do good, is even better.

 

Since the beginning of my writing career, I’ve found a common theme linking all of my articles: You can do it attitude. While this may remind some of quotes portrayed throughout their elementary school days, or the morals behind Disney Channel cartoons, I’ve attempted to sophisticate this idea (attempted as the key word). I can’t promise that I’ve been successful, or that others haven’t read my articles and thought they were being lectured by a motherly figure—sometimes I find myself resembling my mother way too much, and it’s absolutely terrifying. But, I’ve tried to empower readers by being their go-to. By acting as their best friend, their advice-giver, and most importantly, someone who understands. And while readers may not know what I look like, or know me personally at all, my goal has always been to break down those barriers.

 

Whether it’s social, family, physiological or the abundance of other issues that individuals are burdened with daily, I like to believe that I make others feel their thoughts are valid. I like to make people laugh (my friends claim I’m not as funny as I think, but maybe behind a computer screen that’s different? Fingers crossed), make people think, and overall, make others feel good about themselves. I aim to tackle that really good stuff, which many are afraid to voice openly.

 

As a junior at the University of Michigan, I am currently the editor of another newer startup publication, Uloop, where I encourage writers to broadcast their voice for others to hear. Even if they don’t think they’re making a difference, I ask them to trust me—I’ve seen it first hand. My ultimate goal is to aid and empower others through words, during the good times and the bad—and I can’t imagine a better career than that.