One week. One week more, and I will be half way through my college career. I know many of my friends are getting ready to graduate, many who I will miss very much, even if they are here at Gettysburg or at other universities. But as they are beginning to feel the fear of graduation, I am beginning to feel a similar (though not equal, by any means) fear at the fact that I am going to be a junior in college-- half way done, and half way to real life. What will am I going to bring to real life? What has Gettysburg given me to take into my future?
I am a history major, which means I write a lot of papers, reactions, discussions and blogs. These are only a few things that come with the major, but also my minor. I am a Civil War Era Studies minor, studying the American Civil War on the ground of the most famous battle of the war---Gettysburg.
With the level of my education, I almost have my entire major/minor requirements filled. Do I want to leave my label as a History kid and Civil War junkie, or do I add to myself? As I contemplate, I remember something that I've always wanted to do since I was little.
Write.
My mother has always told me that I have been a story teller from the time I could talk. My first recorded story, one I wrote in a tiny green notepad, was when I was 6 years old. I wrote about a mermaid who got stuck in a ravine, having her father call upon a soldier to save her. He cuts her out of the snarled reef, falls in love with her and marries her, which turns into an ocean holiday. When the Young Authors contest came around in grade school, I always went to the finals, but never heard where it went after that. Moving through high school, I worked on many story ideas, but one I constantly worked on stops today at over 125 pages. Once this story stalled, I stopped writing.
A small critic on any writing produces massive doubt. Since I've been in college, my writing has been slammed from every direction; both positive and negative. I had gotten to the point of staring at the blank screen crying because I didn't know what to do. What do my professors want?!
A blessing in disguise was my last-minute choice to take a Creative Writing class last fall. It filled one of my requirements, and I assumed I would enjoy it, even with my fear of writing. The first day of class, my professor came in and sat before us, a softened wise eye glanced over his class. He smiled, making the atmosphere immediately comfortable. He asked us to close our eyes and imagine our most painful memory. We all took a sharp breath, letting the pain return. I envisioned my jaw, the ravishing pain ripping through every muscle, every fiber in my face, and how much agony I had endured when my jaw locked open.
"Now write it."
I froze, feeling an embarrassed heat flush my face a deep red. Everyone around me began to write, but I sat with my pencil in my hand, staring at my notebook. A knot in my stomach tightened as I forced some words down, frequently erasing and rewriting my experience.
When we finished, we read ours outloud, giving the class a taste of our writing style. When I read mine, I was shaking, terrified of it being torn apart. As I read the last sentence, a stunned silence filled the room. My professor slowly nodded, a small, proud smile was on his face.
"Good. Very good. You can really feel the pain. Dive into that."
I smiled, feeling some of my confidence return. It continued that way as my professor challenged me, encouraging me to dig deeper into the pit of my soul and find my true self through writing. I wrote about dreams, a fraternity party rape scene, a break up, an interrogation of a serial killer who believed he was saving his victims from Hell, poetry of my jealousy of others and Robert E. Lee's guilt of Pickett's Charge. All of these were poured over as I felt myself enjoying it. Enjoying the writing process, something I had forgotten how to do. I ended up with an A+ in the class from a very proud and impressed professor who I look up to and admire today. He helped me break out of my paralyzing fright and move on to hear my voice.
My last week, I have two papers due; one of which I have been working on for months. Massive research at the Library of Congress and digging through the Georgia State Archives and the UGA archives to find information about the changing of the Georgia state flag from 1956-2004. Anyone who has talked to me in the last few weeks knows how excited I am to write this paper. It's going to be great! But this excitement leads me to wonder if maybe, just maybe, a Civil War Era Studies minor isn't enough on my minor plate. I'm thinking about writing it out, and making it official.
For my last two years at school, I will be a History major, Civil War Era Studies and Writing Minors. I will be published soon.
~E
