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.