It seems like all my life I can remember being cooped up in a classroom being told what is acceptable and what is not. Writing and reading for the purpose of having fun disappeared in middle school and I lost part of what made me, me. It seems as if every time I tried to write something in my own voice it was shot down by my teachers, and any creative flourish was swept to the side. All my creativity was drawn to other arts because of this and it affected how I feel about writing. Poetry was always something I loved and it still is, but the idea of writing poetry means I have to adhere to certain rules that I’ve been fed. The crazy thing is that it’s not even true I can write free form poetry or make up my own metering, but the years of teaching has dampened my motivation to create through writing. This culmination of teachings is what is referred to as Engfish by Macrorie.
It’s funny to me that this almost imaginary force field of oppressive ideas has such an effect. When I write for class and assignments my main concern is what the professor would want to hear, but not what my own voice wants to project. It’s definitely a goal to be able to use my voice in it’s most raw capability. I want to speak with the truth that is in my mind not hindered by trying to impress anyone reading. I love the point that Macrorie makes about becoming more like a third grader, “The difference between the college students’ writing and the third-grade child’s is simple: One is dead, the other alive.” Returning to the seriousness we had as a third grader about every day life seems like something that would revert us to more childlike, but maybe that isn’t a bad thing after all. Speaking our minds because it’s how we feel disregarding the outside influence is how it should be, unless you’re a neo-nazi.