| Grandmother's Death Brings Out Inner Writer (3/05) | | Print | |
| Written by Mellina Stoney | |
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In an angry world of incompetence, misunderstanding and dread locked in her room with music on full blast to drown out her sorrows: This was my vision of a poet when I was in the seventh grade. Unfortunately, it took a tragedy to change my false perception of writers.
My grandmother was a person I could talk to when I felt like crying; I can still picture myself crawling into her bed when I got scared. When she died, I was 13 years old and could no longer turn to her. I began looking for a place within to make bad feelings go away. It was then that I picked up a pencil and began writing. It was initially a slow process, but with nourishment and encouragement from my English teachers, I was able to tap further into myself and find a person I never thought existed. I found a writer. I found a person who uses words to make sense of things, someone who not only writes in her darkest hours, but also in her most shining moments. <table class="pics" align="LEFT OR RIGHT, ALTERNATING"><tr><td>  <br><br>CAPTION </td></tr></table> I went from shunning the literature we had to read in middle school to carrying four journals around wherever I went, from laughing at students who read their stories in class to volunteering to recite my poetry in front of others. I remember when I first built up the nerves to recite one of my poems to my peers. Entitled “I thought you were fine til I met your mind,” it made everyone laugh. The poem was about an experience I had when I met a really cute boy who turned out to be a dud. My favorite lines: “We called him over and asked him his name/ from that moment on things weren’t the same…I asked him about school and he was like, “what?”/ I swear this boy is fine, but he’s dumb as f—.” Today, I am very focused on achieving my goal of being published by submitting my work in poetry contests and to publishing houses, companies that publish writing. After seven poems published in four different poetry books and two poetry slam titles, I am spreading the word about writing to my other friends. There is no better feeling in the world than the one I experience when other people tell me how well I write. I become ecstatic when my friends come up to me and ask me if I have written any new poems. Writing has not only changed the way I view others, but it has also changed my perception of life. I didn’t used to be concerned about societal issues, but now I want to personify the issues that teenagers like me face through my poetry. I now stand up and express my views whereas I used to sit back and let the world pass me by. I cannot say enough how writing has changed me, mostly because I’m anxious to see the person I will become in the future. I don’t plan on stopping my writing any time soon, so it will be interesting for me to see how much I have changed years from now. As for my writing career, there is no telling where I will go from here, but I do know that I would not be the educated and enlightened person I am today if I had not picked up a pencil three years ago. Thanks, Grandma. |
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to listen.
