Why be an English Major? I'll tell you why...

One of my three essays for Wheaton.


My earliest memory is of me sitting at the dinner table, sheepishly telling my family that I had corn stuck up my nose. The memory that follows closely after is of my four-year-old self sitting on the floor next to my mom's desk, watching her fingers hit the keyboard of our new computer as I dictated a story to her. I caught the bug early, and I was writing stories before I could physically do it myself. I've since avoided sticking vegetables anywhere near my nose, but the joy of telling stories has not yet slipped away from me. I am a writer. Maybe not a great one, at least not yet, but it's in my system now and I don't believe that it will ever get washed out.

Literature has always been important in my family; my siblings and I were raised with books on our shelves and often in our hands. We were told that reading was a way to understand people and the world around us, not just a way to get a large vocabulary (although we covered that aspect of it, too). While my three older siblings seemed content with this level of understanding, I suppose I always felt a little dissatisfied when I finished a great book. It felt so one-sided, like listening to a fantastic speaker but never being able to make a response or ask a question. I felt that I had responses to make, and I knew I had questions to ask. So at the age of nine, I took action in the best way that I knew how. I began to write. Every day, every minute, I observed the world and my experiences and thought of how to use them best for my stories. At first I wrote mostly for enjoyment; like most kids, I made a conscious effort to incorporate the most bizarre circumstances I could think of into my "novels". It was fun, but not quite fulfilling.

As I grew older, the purpose of my writing became more specific. I realized that I understood the world best while I was writing about it. Still later came the realization that I understood myself best while I was writing. A friend once told me that all stories are really about their authors, and the more I write, the more I see that this is true. A story is more than a bunch of carefully-chosen words; it is that author's response to the speakers around him - the great ones and the not-so-great ones alike. It's a place for him to explore his questions to whatever extent he desires, using whatever experiences he wants to search for answers. It's a place for him to think and, ultimately, to make others think. I once read a book in which the author called existence in this world a "great conversation" - meaning that everything which takes place is part of an ongoing interaction of lives. No story is an isolated event, just as no human is an isolated creation. I can't think of a better aspiration in life than sharing my thoughts and encouraging others to share theirs by joining this "great conversation".