When I was younger, I experienced a drastic change in the way I dealt with my life day to day. We all experience change at some point in our lives. To many it could be the death of a close family member, your favorite dog could have ran away, and many other things. I experienced a change that greatly affected me as a person. I moved over 1,070 miles to a place I had only visited as a child. In Georgia I had my friends, my classmates, and my favorite teachers. We all have them. I was soon up rooted from that normalcy in my day to day life to live in a place where the winters were freezing and central AC was barely around. You were considered luck to have a house with central AC. The fast paced Massachusetts could not compare to the turtle like state of Georgia. It took twenty minutes to get to Ingles, the grocery store where I lived. This is one town mind you.

All that changed the summer of 2006. I had to pack it up and leave. Everything that was so familiar was soon to be gone. I was going to be a new shiny toy in school. I wasn’t going to know anyone but my family who I lived with. For me, I knew at that moment I was going to have to acclimate myself all over again. Within doing that I was bullied. The way I spoke, what I did, how I acted, were all targets for torment. This greatly affected my writing and productivity as a student. I lost all drive and wanted to get things done without any passing comments on how I fulfilled each one of those tasks. The keyboard on my computer became the bully that replaced those I had faced in elementary school. I was taunted and teased. Each one of these letters made up the words that bullied me. Honestly, to write anything terrified me. When it comes to writing, you are creating a sense of vulnerability. You are on the paper for anyone to see. In a way, there is a technique to hiding. You create a voice that is not your own. It becomes an artificial you. The “you” that you think people want to see, to hear. It got to that point in life where I wanted to be that person. I created an artificial me that averaged a “B” in all of my classes. I wanted to get by and nothing more. I had no desire to stick out and be my own person.

I stuck out in many ways. Let us start off by saying that I sounded really funny to most. My thick southern drawl kind of gave it away when I was trying to hide in the background.

Every time I would ask a small group a question or any kind of small talk conversation, I would drop a “y’all” here and there. Almost immediately after I would here a voice command me to “say it again Morgan!”. Why would I want to say it again? Why would I put myself through that pain of being teased? At this point, I didn’t want to be around anyone. Even when it came to asking for a crayon, it was difficult. How I say “crayon” is different from what many people say. “Can I borrow a CRAYON?’ would sound more like “Can I borrow a CROWN?”. To me what I was saying was grammatically correct. I knew I was right but everyone told me that I was wrong.

I was greatly affected in who I was. There was a great lack of individuality that I had harbored for such a long time before entering into my university as a first year student. I decided that this year, I was not going to let my past affect my present and future. I gained a greater confidence; I believed personally that it abolished my artificial self. At first I did not like the vulnerability: I was all academic. I steered away from things that pertained to me. It was not until we had done that first assignment where we had to over characterize someone you felt that had impacted your writing. I can recall doing the assignment: reliving the time that I had dreaded for so long. When I had to over exaggerate his facial features, things he wore, and how he acted I was able to get past that vulnerability. I had been making fun of someone that made fun of me in a way. I tend to believe at that moment- I had reached my break through. I was so confident in what I was doing. I believed I have carried that throughout the rest of this semester.

People believe that writing is hard. I am not going to lie and say that it isn’t. You would not believe the struggles many encountered as a class and individually. As the semester had gone on we definitely have overcome many hurdles that were in our way. I have enjoyed my class during our time together. To say that I have finished my first semester of college is very awe inspiring. I now feel like I can overcome any fears that I had entering this class. My keyboard is no longer my bully. We work together to accomplish anything and everything. It is a match made in heaven. A partnership that now works in unison and not singularly. I fear no longer. I have come out with “guns blazing” and stronger than ever. I have been a much happier person since. It has been a very proud moment for myself personally and as a student.