P.Hill+Reflection+Letter

Ever since I can remember, I have been a whirlwind of activity. I have filled my life with music and dance lessons, extra-curriculars, clubs, sports, and part-time jobs. I have found that the more packed schedule that I have, the better that I perform at school and the more organized I remain. Somehow, if I have many things to do, then I feel comfortable planning ahead and staying on task. I even like to test the limits, sometimes, of things I can fit in a day. I even calculated my commute time from one job to the next down to the minute (including traffic stops), so that I could maximize my time at each workplace. But even outside of school and work, I organize my life so that I can do at least two things at once. I watch TV while I clean, I talk on the phone while I browse the Internet, I read while jogging on the treadmill, I eat food and apply makeup while driving, and I do my homework while I’m at work. At any given moment, I am usually doing two things at once. I have restless leg syndrome, and I even walk and talk in my sleep. I am a multitasker. I have found that if I slow down, I feel unmotivated and usually procrastinate, and this is where writing comes in. Writing is one of the only activities that I cannot multitask. I cannot listen to music or watch TV, I cannot exercise or clean up, I can’t really do anything at the same time as writing except sit and think, and that makes me feel unproductive. From the time I was a little girl to now, my mom and I would sit down and discuss the minutiae of our days. If you want to feel lazy, ever, ask my mother what she did today. It’ll go something like, “Well, today I cooked breakfast, did a couple loads of laundry, finished reading that book I was telling you about, got my hair done, grabbed a bite to eat with your grandmother, did the grocery shopping for the week, and squeezed in some Pilates and a face mask while the roast was cooking, then hopped off to work. We cleaned three of those big office buildings today, and I am always finishing before Richard. He is unbearably slow.” I think you can see where I am going with this. Just like my mother (and come to think of it, my grandmother), I have been trained to live my life by the tasks that I can label as being “productive.” Before I write, I always think to myself, “What else could I be doing that is more ‘productive’?” and usually, I do it before I can even think about writing. I clean, cook, check my email, exercise, get the mail, gas up the car, and do just about anything else I can think of that, as a task, is finite and measurable. For someone who lives like a tornado, my home often looks like one hit the house, so I can usually find something to forestall an impending writing assignment, which by then could either be due in less than a day, or even late. All of this can be added to the shock of my dad’s cancer diagnosis this past summer, which has impacted my general attitude toward school immensely. While times have already been tight, (my father has been unable to work because of a heart condition since 2008), they have become even tighter after my father’s former employer stopped paying disability insurance. As the former sole breadwinner in our family was reduced to bed rest and hospital visits, both my mother and I, who once worked to add a little bit to the household, but more so to stay busy, began working to survive and support our family. Living in a whirlwind is significantly less enjoyable when your livelihood depends on it. Now, when breaks are a luxury and not a given, I find myself using the time that I would normally dedicate to homework to a temporary, almost vegetative state; a brief calm before the next storm. This uncharacteristic near-catatonia gives me just enough energy to burst forth and move on to the next task, yet in my life of extremes, writing falls in a strange, yet undesirable middle ground that I push off at all costs—sometimes until it’s too late. Once I get started, I usually can’t stop writing until I am finished. I write how I live: fast. Getting started, however, is the hard part. Before I write anything, I think it through in my head. Even weeks before I put pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard, as is often the case), I think about themes, main ideas, supporting evidence, and even full phrases and sentences that I make a note to remember when I finally compose. When I finally sit down to write, the words flow out of me so fast that sometimes I can’t even really keep up, and usually, it’s pretty good. I have no doubts that I am a //good// writer. I may not be a //great// writer, but I am a //good// one, and //good// seems to get A’s. Apart from comma issues (which will probably be my greatest struggle in writing until my dying day) and keeping paragraphs entirely too long, I think that I am a strong writer. I definitely feel more comfortable with academic writing, but creative writing usually doesn’t pose too much of a challenge. This is another obstacle to me as a writer. I have learned now that I can sit down at a computer two to three hours before a paper is due and produce something that will keep me on the Dean’s List. Over the years, just like all of the other tasks in my life, the time I allot for writing and the time it takes me to write have greatly decreased over time and practice. Unfortunately, this has caused me to feel a little bit jaded when it comes to writing. This is where 408 comes in. When rough drafts are a necessity, so is revision, for which I //rarely// give time, but from which I could greatly benefit. Some of the writing of which I am most proud comes from this course, simply because I have given the time to refine my work and expand upon my ideas. I live by the page count and usually produce the minimum requirement (unless the subject //really// interests me), but for this class, I found myself taking my time, expanding on details, and revising work that, if not for the portfolio, I would likely have thrown away after receiving the grade. It is a rare thing for me to take any kind of pride in my writing, and to consider writing as being enjoyable, instead of another task to complete to sustain my GPA for another semester. I love that this class gave me the opportunity to expand on work that formerly would have forever remained as a scribbling on a scrap piece of paper. My persuasive essay that poses a solution for "How to Get a Boyfriend or Girlfriend" was a piece of writing that I didn't even imagine becoming a ten-point long list. I wrote out the first three points in about 5-10 minutes during the persuasive writing mini-lesson on the back of returned work, because I had forgotten my notebook. When I returned to the list, I found myself expanding for so long on some points that I had to revisit my first three points to fit the rest of the list. It became almost addictive to keep adding to the list until I had a real product of which I could be proud. While my initial "burst" of writing in class was received well by my peers, I believe the finished piece is really something that they could enjoy.