When I was about thirteen years old my mom taught me how to cook. I first started with learning how to make simple things like buttered noodles, grilled cheese, and scrambled eggs. But as I got older, she had me following complex recipes with multiple steps all happening at the same time. I’m thankful that I know how to make my grandma’s famous homemade gnocchi, but I’m more thankful for the advice I learned along the way. I know not to put my hand on the stove when it’s hot, use mits when taking something out of the oven, and don’t put aluminum in the microwave. But more importantly, I gained life advice through kitchen metaphors. For example, my mom used to always tell me: “A watched pot never boils.”

Going into this class I felt I was a strong writer. I always received high grades on essays in high school despite never being in love with writing. I thought FWS was going to be an easy A and I wasn’t going to learn anything that I didn’t already know. I quickly discovered that this was not the case. I struggled throughout the first couple of months of this class. I couldn’t figure out how to break away from my high school writing habits. For example, even though Brian taught us not to play “dress-up” with our words, I still found myself searching through the thesaurus to sound more intelligent. Because I was so focused on sounding like an intelligent writer, it prevented me from making my main ideas clear. Since I was unclear, I received a lot of check minuses. This frustrated me, so I tried even harder to write what I thought Brian would want to hear. 

However, I dug myself into an even deeper hole with this strategy. I was still receiving grades I wasn’t happy with, and felt like I will never figure this out. I was about ready to stop trying. But as time went on, I started to realize my mom’s advice that “A watched pot never boils” could be applied to my current situation. Giving up and just waiting for this class to be over at the end of the semester would only make me miserable. Like waiting for water to boil, this mindset will make time pass very slowly, and I will have wasted an opportunity to improve my writing. I decided this wasn’t how I wanted the semester to go. I was determined to improve my writing. 

As we moved away from analyzing texts and writing more about personal experiences and thoughts, it started to click. I discovered my best work comes from writing about topics that genuinely interest me and writing in a way that sounds most like myself. Additionally, I discovered that writing is a process that requires patience. It takes time to learn how to clearly articulate what you think and feel. It doesn’t all come together right away. Looking back, I wish we had more time because I am just recently starting to understand what strong writing looks like, and for the first time I’m enjoying writing.