A teacher once told me the act of writing is as basic and juvenile as singing the alphabet. By grade five, I knew he was wrong. Creating art through words is an innate ability that grows when nourished. Dismissing my naive science teacher’s comparison of writing to the alphabet, I grew to love writing. Even though I don’t get paid to write, I’m not famous and honestly, I’m not that great of a writer, I still appreciate a well-written piece. For what reasons did I decide to start writing? Granted, I did have to write many papers for school courses, but why would I write something that doesn’t get graded? Here, I share my story of why I write…
I never got an allowance or any money for that matter; my parents believed that chores were another aspect of being a member of a family. “You shouldn’t get rewarded for being in a family,” my mom would explain every time I complained. Yes, I’m well aware I sound like a spoiled brat, so it was probably a good thing my parents never gave me an allowance. But when you’re 10 and all your friends are able to buy hot chocolate (I live in Canada) from the corner store and you can’t; it gets to you! My eyes would dart up and down the streets searching small crevices looking for a silver circular object so I could buy something. One time, I found a Loonie, a dollar coin, except it was 2006 and hot chocolate happens to cost more than $1.00. So now that we established I was a “broke” 10 year old, finding people presents for birthdays, Christmases and those other irrelevant holidays was a challenge. Writing stories and poetry became my go-to present.
I crafted handwritten storybooks titled “A day in the life of a Beckerman,” where I would draw pictures and write unrealistic stories. As I aged, I acquired more knowledge about writing and technology, so I started typing these “presents”. These stories were a leg up compared to macaroni glued to a toilet paper roll that my younger sister always gave. I felt so proud and accomplished after I finished one of these stories. For my Dad’s 40th Birthday, I wrote a story about a family adventure where we had superpowers:
“Mom! Look. I can see through a wall,” Sam said. 
“I can fly,” said Olivia.
Olivia and Sam began flying and seeing throughout the house. Then mom yelled at them to stop. Dad started zipping from one place to another. Soon, Mom got in on the fun and became invisible. I was reading their minds and everyone was thinking, “this is a good family.”
I’ll spare you the horrendous grammar and questionable plot by stopping there. I’d always start these stories with no ending; there was no final destination. I was able to free write and let the characters develop naturally over time. I enjoyed where the plot would take me and what I was able to create. That is why I started to write. I’ve continued to write to find my voice.
Finding my voice, my own unique writing style, served as an unwinnable challenge. I thrive to be the elegant wordsmith who creates alluring sentences and writes with such refinement that the reader gets an enticing sensation so powerful it possesses the ability to take over their entire body while they become paralyzed with each sound uttered. These writers who use every word and syllable stationed in a specific order creates boundless sentences composed of immeasurable wisdom. Then when your vision catches sight of a capital letter appearing after a small dot, you are aware that you’ll be taken on a majestic journey only to reach another dot. This style of writing is owned by Charles Dickens who is able to write with immense amounts of details while staying focused. I’ve tried and failed to write papers in this specific style, I could never stay focused on the plot. The sentences would be to intricate and honestly, it looked like I was trying to hard. So I figured this style and me weren’t meant to be.
I prosper to be the blunt honest writer who keeps sentences short and concise. The writer who has the ability to get words out fast with every term possessing such value and purpose. Every word considered in a precise place and every sentence succinct. This form allows a quick and effortless read, yet still makes an impact through diction. Think Hemmingway style.
I want to be that writer that flourishes every sentence and can make masterpieces. I want to be that writer who is forthright and brusque. I write because I have the power to write how I want. I write to go deeper; to go deeper then the human voice can hear. I cannot see my soul, hear it or touch it, but I can feel. When I write, I feel something more spiritual than just my fingers typing words on a keyboard. There is something powerful about writing what is deep. I write because when I get in that zone, when my body and soul are merged, I know that what I’m writing is me. It’s up to me to solve the puzzle of diction, to decipher how each word should be stringed together to create a sentence, to unravel the mystery of sentence structure. It’s just me making those decisions.
Find my own voice was difficult while writing specific essays and papers for school courses. There were always requirements and the majority of the papers 
were academic and loaded with information. I found it hard to show my voice and make the essay ‘me’. Seeing a 90% in red pen with a circle around it took priority over writing an essay using my voice. I found it hard to come up with that happy medium; an academic research paper while making it personal was a suicide mission. I eventually just gave up and started writing strict academic papers for all my classes. Unfortunately, my school never offered any creative writing courses until grade 12. On the first day of this class,“Forget All Writing Rules” was plastered on the chalkboard. This course’s purpose was to teach high school students how to write personal academic papers. Throughout the year, I somewhat mastered mixing the two mediums. The secret is this formula is to add flare and style through detail and descriptions.
I find it funny how much teachers and school impact your writing. Teachers have the power to dictate your entire thought process. Most of the time, I found myself writing for the teacher. I would consciously cater the paper to the teacher just to get the grade I wanted. I hated this. Teachers have such control over how a student writes; do they even realize the influence they have? I was a victim, I wrote to get the grade, rarely would I write a paper that flourishes in my style.
Revisiting my elementary science teachers remark about how juvenile writing was, I can see where he is coming from. Science consists of academic papers, so most students write in an academic form. Turning in papers with style would result in a poor grade, so rarely would his students do that. Understanding this, I can recognize his point of view of writing. Vocabulary, word choice and diction are all different when writing an academic vs. free write paper. With all that being said, I write to find my voice, to find make myself go deeper through the art of writing. X…Y…Z.