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Essay on A Reflection Upon My Writing

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“As a student, I write for multiple purposes. Purpose is the key for how my thoughts are dictated on this blank white sheet.” After writing this in my in-class journal discussing my transition from five-paragraph writing to actual formation of thoughts without a specific format, I realized that this process was a larger undertaking than I originally thought. Through endless amounts of essay writing the personal academic improvements that have taken place this quarter are indescribable in comparison to any other academic feat made in my brief but fulfilling college career.

As a writer, I realized coming into college that my writing was not necessarily bad by any means, but instead extremely uninteresting. After leaving the public …show more content…

As I received my rough draft with comments back from my teacher, my stomach dropped to the floor in utter disgust. The amount of red pen on the paper weighed down three sheets to feel as though I was holding an entire ream of disappointment in my hands. This is where things began to get tough: The editing process. Taking my writing extremely personally, having to go into a meeting with the teacher that gave me so much constructive criticism was not humbling at all, it was just scary. As I sat in his cubicle, he was smiling. As I sit there sweating in anxious bitterness waiting for him to tell me how he would run this teacher-student conference, he smiled! Just as I thought I was in the clear, he wanted to repeat the essay out loud so I could hear what I wrote. Just as he said this, my stomach did not only hit the ground, but sank into the pits of Hell. As he read I tried to stay attentive and sentence after sentence I would write down small corrections for grammar and syntax errors. After the reading, a discussion about my writing style occurred and this is where the ugly turned pretty. I had a list of corrections laying on my lap and for the first time, I had someone to talk to about my writing and the corrections I needed to make. I remember sitting there realizing sentence by sentence spewing out of my mouth, a fountain of new ideas that I could barely get down in time before they swam away. I had never had a teacher so

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