Accidental Ambivalence

Reflecting

My latest writing assignment is a profile of a fellow student. The idea is to capture who they are as a writer to assist both our professor and them in learning about their style and what we will find important to teach when we get in the classroom. As we were conducting interviews, my partner asked me if I was a journal writer, and I paused for a moment before answering. I do have a journal, although it’s been months since I’ve written. I used to journal more consistently than I do now, but I’ve become a much more avid blogger than journaler. However, I didn’t tell her that I blog, and at the time I wasn’t really sure why.

I try to keep a certain level of anonymity here, although it’s probably not difficult to figure out what city I live in, what school I go to, and probably even my last name. I told myself that I didn’t reveal my life as a blogger because I want to keep people I know personally from reading it (you never know when you’ll manage to insult someone). Upon further reflection, I wonder if I’m not somewhat embarrassed. As a student of literature, composition, and education, the internet is often regarded as a resource that is to be used carefully, and almost never is it regarded as a valid, serious place to expand yourself creatively.

Why have I allowed this notion to invade my own perceptions?

I genuinely believe that reading is never a bad thing, whether you’re reading Jane Austen or Tom Clancy or J.K. Rowling. I believe in reading for pleasure, for the sake of reading and expanding your mind and making yourself happy. If a monthly dose of Reader’s Digest makes you happy, so be it. If a monthly dose of Cosmo is enough for you, fine. So why are online forms of writing so stigmatized? Why shouldn’t the fact that I read Sizzle’s daily thoughts be just as highly regarded as the fact that I just read Edith Wharton’s “Souls Belated” and the first three acts of The Taming of the Shrew?

My daily ramblings certainly aren’t high literature, and often they aren’t really worth the space they’re taking up in the blogosphere, but that doesn’t mean that they are any less valuable to my growth as a writer. And I feel the same way about writing that I do about reading: As long as you’re writing, it’s worthwhile*. I’m not going to let anyone else make me feel like blogging isn’t just as valid as writing an academic paper. Besides, I’m learning more about myself through blogging than I will writing a critical essay on Shakespeare or my philosophy of education.

Here’s to my blog, my fellow bloggers, and anyone out there who has ever felt that what they’re writing isn’t worthwhile.

*A grocery list is a possible exception. However, if you can turn that list into poetry, kudos to you.

Labels: everyday musings

posted by nicalyse @ 11:17 PM