Why I Write
I sat in ninth grade English class watching the clock. I am pretty sure I saw the clock hands moving backward. I had to read To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee and The Odyssey by Homer. Or should I say the class read them. I just couldn’t relate to those books. Maybe I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t sit still or keep my mind on what the teacher was talking about but it sure felt that way. My eyes wandered out the window as I wondered how I would ever finish the books in that class. Cliff Notes surely would have helped me but I didn’t know about them yet! As a result, I became more attracted to the colorful living world of science and kept my distance from the humanities for most of my schooling.
But if my lack of love for reading makes you wonder if I wasted my youth, there was a reason to be hopeful. I actually created my own bookat the age of thirteen in 1967! Okay, to be completely honest it was a scrapbook, but nonetheless, I created a book. It covered important topics of the day such as hunting, fishing, hiking and camping. And as luck would have it I still have the book after all these years. It includes lots of great tips and articles on thriving and surviving in the wilderness and clippings from my “Boy’s Life” magazines. This was an early sign of my love of creativity and wild places. There were other signs of hope too.
I performed in a school play or two played my trumpet in the school band and sang in the church choir till high school. And I earned above-average grades, but “pleasure-reading” seemed like an oxymoron to me. That is until I found myself in college reading biology textbooks and humanistic psychology tomes. I found those books readable and interesting, including titles like How to Meditate by Lawrence LeShan, The Master Game by Robert S. deRopp, and Zen and the art of Motorcycle Maintenance by Robert Pirsig.
I went from college to a full-time high school teaching job, with adjunct college teaching, bartending and painting side-hustles soaking up any potential reading time. By the end of my twenties, I was in a flow of adulting- working, marriage, fathering, and outdoor activities. Except for earning advanced degrees, reading or writing never found a habitual hook in my life. Well, I published a few journal articles and book chapters along the way, but I always felt too busy to find the time to write a book. My father confirmed how swamped I was when he confided, “For me, the time between when you were born until the day you graduated from college just flew by in an instant!” Once I became a father I knew exactly what he meant!
Along the way, I developed a fondness for fine art, photography, poetry, reading, and writing! As I learned from many years of working with kids, people learn at different rates and in different ways. Given time, my interests blossomed into the humanities. Some of the revelations have come as a result of experiences such as meeting different people, raising my own children, and travel. I believe some of my interest in the humanities and writing specifically is on account of my own latent development. I finally grew up!
Now that my full-time career is behind me I have reached a moment in life when I have the interest in making sense of the world. Writing seems to be one way to do that. I have begun reading a lot and have been writing nonstop for the past two years. My work has resulted in some Op-Ed pieces in local media, some blogging work on topics like energy, and now some books in the works. And a few months ago I joined a local writing workshop! Imagine that! I hope this means I will be learning to communicate better. I already know that it is helping me learn about myself and the world. I wonder- Have others found a similar path to reading and writing as I have?
