Just Words

I can remember story time being one of my favorite things about school. In kindergarten, I loved listening to Mrs. McCormick read stories to us and then my friends and I will act them out during centers and free time. My mother was always reading a book and every birthday and Christmas seemed to include some new book or series. I would breeze through Nancy Drew, Encyclopedia Brown, Little House on the Prairie...any book I could get my hands on would be devoured quickly with anticipation of the next one.

I loved writing stories, too. And poems. I loved Miss Yate's 4th grade language arts class because she was always having us write stories about being an eraser on a pencil, or about who our hero was, writing haiku or acrostics of our names or a holiday. I always waited anxiously for the literary magazine to come out at the end of the school year, so I could see my name in print under a story or poem or if I was lucky several of my writings may be published.

In middle school, I started keeping a folder of all my poems, turning some of them into songs. I still have the folder and can still sing one the poems/songs.

In high school, I went from writing to acting. I was in several dramas and loved the challenge of memorizing the lines, the nervous excitement of being on the stage, the reaction of the audience and the applause. I dabbled in writing plays for a bit, but pushed all of it aside when I fell in love.

I forgot that my writings were not merely words, but part of me, representing who I am and who I wanted to be. They have never been just words.