“Put it into Laura’s voice,” Dr. McCoy reminded me after I asked her to read the introduction of my “Bloodchild” essay.
My voice? The suggestion sent me waves of confusion, doubt, and to be quite honest, a slight bit of annoyance. I am not an English major, I do not enjoy writing papers, and I certainly do not believe I have a “voice.” Not one worth hearing, anyway.
My cynicism prevailed until I read Roisin’s recent blog post, “The Dreaded Essay Rewrite.” She seemed to comprise some of my own “dreadful” thoughts into a simple quote. She states, “I am intellectually curious, I want to grow and achieve as a student, I want to problem-solve, and I want to be passionate and spirited in my pursuit of education. So why is it so hard for me to revise my essay if rewriting is exactly the type of process that will help me reflect, grow, and achieve?”
It is frustrating, to say the least, that something that used to be a simple revision process is now an anxiety-causing, cumbersome one. In class, we often discuss how we as students have grown accustomed to our trusted high school essay template. There is an intro, with a thesis. Two or three body paragraphs, each beginning with an argument statement. Quote, unpack, quote, unpack. Over and over. Why, I wonder, would I need my own “voice” to make the same exact claims? After some thinkING, I found some clarity in our expectations as students.
In the past, I have argued that “expectations” have negative connotations. My entire “Bloodchild” essay discusses how expectations set by others lead us down academic paths that we did not truly choose on our own accord. We blindly accept risks; we simply follow the path laid for us. We are uninformed, even naive.
I’ve recently tried to see expectations in a more positive light. Without them, how could we push ourselves to achieve higher standards? What would be our incentive? Without expectations, I can confidently say I would be satisfied with my original “Bloodchild” essay. To submit it and never see it again. Rather, I am required to revisit my writing. I rewrite, think, and rewrite again. Each time I develop stronger arguments, clarify my thinking, and unpack more evidence. It is a learning process rather than an obligation. And, surprisingly, I notice there is a “Laura” quality to my writing, if there exists such a thing. It reflects my thoughts, encompasses my emotions, and gives meaning to the words I write. All through my own voice. Who knew?
From day one, Dr. McCoy has affirmed that this class is about getting to “feel good” about our writing. I think I’m finally understanding that feeling. It’s tiring to confront seemingly endless revisions, blog posts, and the search for my “voice.” Despite the exhaustion, the reality is that I have a fast approaching due date, a professor who wants to help, and an opportunity for intellectual growth. Sometimes it just takes some expectations to get us there, and we’ll actually find ourselves enjoying the process along the way.