Biographies
don’t do a person justice. Listing off
things I have done while someone else takes their time to write it all down,
twisting my words to make sense to them.
Interviews don’t do a person justice.
Millions could watch me from their televisions as I answer “deep” scripted
questions, and then feel as if they knew me. Watching me to waste their time,
barely paying attention. Five minutes afterwards I would be forgotten until the
next time they heard my name.
Grades don’t do a person justice. I can tell you
I have spent too long studying for tests that I won’t ever be able to
understand. I can tell you I never read that English book but somehow crafted
the best essay you have ever read. Kids look around the classroom and “know”
who is smart from judging off the number in the teachers book, but have any of
them had a chance to ask who puts in the most effort?
Public speaking doesn’t
do a person justice. I could talk all day about nothing and entertain you more
than I would if I was told to give a presentation. The list carries on but if I
continue, the repetition is too much for someone as impatient as I to handle.
Writing
does a person justice. Writing is the time to let your thoughts flow and to
convince someone your point without ever feeling rushed. You can hear my voice
through writing and my personality flow through every word I chose. I have not
said a single “fact” about myself but you can understand me better than you
could through an interview or a conversation.
You are hearing my thoughts when
you read my writing. You are hearing them inside your own head and picturing
me. Without knowing it you have created an idea of me. Just from my writing. I
never said, I was born July 3rd, 1999. I didn’t need to because
those facts aren’t as important as my thoughts. You may not know that my
favorite color is the heather grey that’s painted on my bedroom walls, but then
again, you never ask such a trivial question, when there’s so much more to
learn. Who wants to learn my favorite meal when I could share my thoughts on
the world? I don’t want to repeat myself, you know how I dislike that- yet did it ever occur to you that you
pictured me and my voice while you read
this in your head and you now understand me without even knowing my name?
Writing does a person justice.
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