Hate Writing: Reflecting on Writing as Problem-Solving - Essay Example

My problem was that I hated writing as much as you hate getting a flat tire in the middle of a deserted road while it is snowing. I had my reasons ofcourse- I was slow, had a horrible handwriting and was never satisfied with what I wrote. However, I received help from an unexpected source owing to which I gradually overcame my weaknesses and came to love writing. ‘Write’ - the word itself used to bring out a shudder from me. You must be thinking I was mentally challenged, but I was not (thank God for that).

It is just that my hatred for writing was so intense. So you can imagine my horror when the teacher announced a ‘writing fair’ that was to take place at my school, where students had to submit an essay on anything they wanted. The worst part was that there was no escaping. Whatever we were submitting, we had to write it in front of the teacher so that the school would know that no one else wrote it on our behalf. Could things have gotten any worse? Oh yes they could because we were later told that our writing project would be graded by the Principal herself.

I could just imagine that old cranky woman humiliating me in front of everyone while she read out my essay. Anyone who would be in my place would think the same. I was an extremely slow writer who took ages just to write one sentence and would always (yes, ALWAYS) be the last person to ask for an extra sheet of paper while writing in class or during an examination. I am a left-handed person, so you can guess how bad my handwriting was. You know that face people normally make when they see something disgusting?

Well, that is exactly the face my teachers would make whenever they would look at my handwriting. However, the biggest reason why I used to get low grades in my essays was because I would never get the time to complete them-I was THAT slow. No matter how much I tried, writing would be my one biggest weakness-which explains why this writing fair seemed like doomsday to me. Grudgingly, I set off towards my home while Regina George who was my rival since kindergarten, pranced excitedly around the parking lot yapping away to her friends about how her essay would be the best; after all, she was the brightest student in our class.

I would have kept looking sulkily at her if Ms. Helen Rover (my new English teacher) had not caught my eye. She was sitting in her car waving at me and beckoning me towards her. I instantly remembered my mother’s saying “do not take candy from strangers”, but quickly shook away that thought and went towards my teacher. “This-”, she said while giving me a thin book, “-might be the key to your success. I have been observing you ever since I started teaching your class, so I know you have the potential to write.

Use the book well and time yourself”. She must have noticed my bewildered expression while I stared at the handwriting book. It was the kind of books used in primary classes and she gave me a kind smile and drove off. If I had known that was a turning point in my life, I would never have behaved the way I did on reaching home that day. The book went straight to the bin while I went straight to my mother to complain about how my new English teacher had ‘mocked’ me. However, my mother’s reaction was the complete opposite of what I had expected.

Instead of getting furious at my teacher, she actually sided with her! “Sweetheart, why don’t you try what your teacher told you to do? Just try it. If it does not work out, forget all about it”