Telling Stories
Since the first day of English class at Exeter, I have formulated narratives and essays that tell my story and show personal change, as I have been instructed to do. It is always difficult to keep coming up with exciting events that taught me lessons in life and then put those down in words. However, this is not the aspect of the personal narrative curriculum that I am critical of. Over the terms I have spent here, and especially during this current fall term, my English teachers have taught me patience with my writing, to not concern myself as much with the significance of the events I am writing about, but rather to focus on bringing those moments, large or small, to life. I have learned that the best writers can create spectacular non-fiction out of merely trivial events.
I become bothered when it comes to the uniformity of the English writing curriculum. By writing around ten papers per school year all with the same general design, I am draining my bank of personal memories, special moments, and happy and the haunting events of my past. Then I am taught to analyze them and find the larger meanings behind each of these stories. To show how they have changed me. But the truth is, a lot of them have not. I want some of my great memories to remain untouched, unanalyzed. I want to keep a few stories just for myself, to appreciate them nostalgically and for them to remain sweet eternal mysteries.
The valid argument can be made that our personal stories are completely confidential when we submit them and that we don’t have to pour out the details of our pasts onto the page, but I do think that it is encouraged and silently expected of us. On each prompt that I am given, it is implicit that these stories (especially the 10th grade “roots” paper) are intended to tell events of your past, in hopes that you will learn more about yourself while improving your writing and analyzing skills. That is just the intent of the personal narrative structure, and I, at least, have not found a way around talking about myself in them. I agree that personal storytelling is crucial in learning the discipline of writing, but I do not think it deserves three years of study.There is not a lesson behind everything, and if perhaps there is, then we are spoiling it by over-analyzing. I do not want to exhaust myself searching for reason and justification behind my past. I want to keep it in fondness and virginity.
“At this point my life isn’t my life anymore, it’s just a story I know really well.”
What am I asking? I want to learn how to write poetry, fiction and biographies! Short stories, satire, comedy and playwriting. I want to be trained in the multiples genres, disciplines and styles of literature. This is not to say that I disregard the importance of learning the personal narrative and essay styles, but I am getting one of the best educations in the world. I want the most out of it; this includes a well-rounded training in the variety of writing methods.
While having a conversation about this with a friend in my dorm, she said these words that I think perfectly summarize my argument and have resonated with me ever since: “At this point my life isn’t my life anymore, it’s just a story I know really well.”