Sharing Through Writing
As a Senior Economics major, this class has been bizarre. At times, I get deja vu to moments back in elementary school when we would trace or make small picture books. It is not, however, comparable, in elementary school the tracings I made were of “jungle animals” and the picture book I made was about “Tom the pizza man”. In this class, I have seen these mediums in a new light, as ways to understand a character’s sexuality and to express the constant reminder of death in my life. These posts have been unlike anything I have ever been asked to write.
At my public high school, I wrote the same standard 5 paragraph essay for 4 years about dozens of books. I hated it, it felt monotonous and for this reason, I didn’t take an English course until my last semester at Davidson. What a mistake. Over the course of the semester, we were asked to write in the first person, to find our voices. It has been a struggle to share and to find what is really on my mind. I remember the “About Me” post, I spent so much time writing it and it just didn’t feel like me. The Friday it was due my friends and I went to the campus bar and got drunk. At some point, I opened my laptop and just spat my emotions and feelings on the page. I was amazed, it was me. This whole semester I have struggled with being vulnerable. It is not an active choice to hide who I am, instead, it is because when I do share I quickly remember the dark space in which my head operates and I quickly retreat to my world of numb pleasure. It feels impossible to put my thoughts into words without feeling as though I am freaking people out. It is far easier to hide, but I think this semester has been an exercise in breaking out of my protective shell. I would like to say that blogging has led to immense progress, but I think it is just the start of a long journey.
When I look back at my digital remediation post I ended it by saying “As I know what Davidson has taken from me and my fellow peers repeatedly for the past four years.” While true, I never really talk about what Davidson has taken from me. I hide behind a broad statement without really sharing my personal struggle. This was a huge missed opportunity for me to share my experience.
I do think I have made progress in sharing my emotions and experiences. In my “About Me” post I briefly mention how my rebellious attitude “has only been exasperated by my experience in Nice this past Summer.” I casually mention my experience in Nice without really sharing the trauma I lived through on the promenade on Bastille Day. This is shown by how Niara commented that “I’m sure your trip to Nice was amazing!” It was horrible. It has been a continuous nightmare that I am only starting to recover from. I clearly didn’t communicate what the experience meant to me in that post. By the end of the semester when I created my final book, I was tempted to not include the experience in my story. Ultimately, I masked my decision to include it by stating that “This book is for me and only me.” I included it and shared it, but I refused to explain or really talk about it in my final reflection. This really was just a cop-out for not wanting to talk about it with others.
I will say my decision to include the disturbing images is progress. I don’t think you could finish reading my book and say that my trip to Nice was amazing. I want to write a story about this experience. I don’t think I am ready, but I do think being encouraged to write with my personal voice has helped me grow in this respect. Additionally, having students read and comment on my work has forced me to become more open and tolerable of sharing my work with others. At the beginning of the semester, I was terrified of this aspect. By the end, I loved reading comments that other students wrote about my posts. I’m glad that I could start to share and be honest through writing before I graduate as it gives me something to practice in the years to come.
