Language Investigation #3

I honestly cannot recall much of my early writing processes; until I was a junior in high school, I was completely determined to be a marine biologist. Therefore, I was always fascinated by science. I read a lot, starting novels when I was in third or fourth grade, and I can remember a great deal about the reading tasks we were assigned. For me, writing didn’t become a passion until well into my high school years, and when it did, it was an explosion. I had a change of heart, virtually overnight, to wanting to be an author rather than a research scientist.
I can recall two instances from elementary school in which we specifically dealt with language, at least on a superficial level. When I was in third grade I wrote my first story. I don’t know if I watched Homeward Bound all the time or what, but I must have written ten short stories about animals going on adventures. I would always have the animals talk and go on these elaborate journeys. Our teacher encouraged us simply to write. There was only one stipulation: it had to make sense. In other words, our focus for that class was completely on plot progression. We had to set up a background, then tell a few events that made everything relevant. Language was not very important; of course, we were required to use new vocabulary words that we were learning at the time, but honestly I have no idea what those words were. Each week, we would get three of four new words on the blackboard (pre-whiteboard era) and in our story we had to include those three words somehow. So, it was good to be enlarging our vocabulary, but I didn’t learn anything at all about syntax and subject / verb agreement until sixth grade. If I did learn these basic skills, I was too young to remember.
Another thing I remember is being absolutely awful at handwriting (penmanship). I could never hold my pencil correctly, and to this day my handwriting looks like a second-grader. It was the only class I got a C in from Kindergarten through 9th grade. This mark kind of discouraged me from writing, at least by hand, because my teacher really made a big deal about it. She kept physically twisting my hand into the correct writing position, and I got pretty annoyed after a while.
In junior high school we learned sentence structure. All I can remember about this period of my life was being bored out of my mind. I loved the books; The Hobbit, Tom Sawyer, and Huckleberry Finn I thoroughly enjoyed. I didn’t care how the sentences were put together, what the past participles were, I just enjoyed the stories. However, I survived the writing exercises well enough, despite having an awful teacher. Mrs. Moore: picture a fifty-five year old woman, very thin hair, and a hoarse voice caused by smoking twice an hour. “Diagram these two sentences, everybody,” while she stepped outside for a smoke break, then came back in, her eyes bloodshot and smelling like an ashtray in a dress.
Anyway, I digress. High school was the turning point, the place where I found a passion for literature and writing. Like I said, I wanted to be a marine biologist; until I discovered the advanced math necessary to be a research scientist. So, my high school English teacher, Mr. Schuessler told me once that I was a very good writer. I don’t know exactly what assignment I turned in to make him believe this, but nonetheless, I received the compliment and began writing furiously, all the time. First in journals, then I progressed to argumentative essays. My junior year I was placed into AP English, with about seven other students. I took this class both of my remaining years. And that’s when my writing skills were sharpened. Our school went to seventy-minute classes that year, which allowed for fewer classes in the day but with more time in each class. The first twenty-five minutes of every single class, we were given a writing prompt and we would write a five-page essay. I wrote fifteen essays a month, all with support and feedback from my teacher, and all of us in the class prepared for the AP essays.
Language played a huge role in my development as a writer. My teacher would remind us who we were writing to, so as to avoid that ‘collegy’ language, the pretentious words that made us sound like we had a Master’s in language when we were sixteen. So, we wrote in a language that our classmates could understand. More important than the diction was the sentence style, though. We spend an entire unit on rewriting sentences to give them voice and create our unique writing methods. I probably wrote one hundred college-level essays by the time I graduated from high school, each one sharper and clearer than the last. I got a four on my AP exam, tested out of English I, and jumped into ‘beginning creative writing.’
Every college essay I write for this university reflects the teaching of Mr. Schuessler. From structuring the entire essay so that arguments are supported by textual evidence, to writing stylistic sentences, his keen attention to detail allowed me to develop my skills. Of course, my education on writing continued into college, but the framework was established years ago and now, it’s a matter of handing in the paper, then getting it back with a grade. There is not as much personal attention, which is okay because I never have problems with the grades I’m given. I believe writing is a fundamental and essential tool, which leads to success in all subject areas.