In
my sophomore year while in high school, I began to write. I was working on a story, my story, and had
started at the end of the book. I filled
a notebook with my work over the course of a few months, and began working on,
and completed, an entirely different story over the course of a year or so. But I kept the notebook with the original
story with me all the time. I made the
mistake of placing it on my desk once.
The girl who sat in front of me snatched it up as she went by and opened
it.
I
froze. I wanted it back, but didn’t want
to let the girl know how much it meant to me.
I knew it wasn’t my best work.
I’d written it at 15 for heaven’s sake, and at 17… the work seemed
pitiful.
The
girl returned my notebook the next day.
It was full of red pen.
“I
love the story, but your writing needs work,” she said. “Did you know you use the word ‘just’ in almost
every sentence? I might’ve gotten a bit
carried away, but it was hurting my head after a while and your story deserves
better than that.”
This
moment gave me the courage to continue writing.
It could have gone in the opposite direction. If I had been judged by my writing at that
moment, I would’ve quit. Instead of
being discouraged, I was told that while my words could use work, that the core
of my story was sound. This will likely
affect how I teach literacy in that I do not want to crush anyone’s confidence
in their writing, despite their skill level.
I want to assist young writers in becoming better without covering a
page in red pen. I want students to know
that I will judge their content first, and then assist in the development of
their writing. I also want students to
know that their work, is their own, and beyond content, they have the final say
in their papers. 
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