When I was in elementary school, my main hobby was writing.
My love of writing started early on in second grade when we made our first hardcover books. Each month of school we would receive prompts such as “tell the story of when you lost your tooth” or “what would be the LAST thing you want to be when you grow up”. We would then draw pictures to match the stories we wrote and it would get “published”. This legacy continued to follow me through 4th grade as I made two more books like these in class.
Outside of school, I would go with my mom to the library, or really any meeting place, and I would find art on the wall. Based on the art I would write short stories about the people depicted, whether it was the ‘wild west’ or New Jersey farmers. I even wrote songs alone in my room, including one I am particularly fond of, “Whisper of the Wind”.
By fourth grade, my writing was starting to get more recognized (luckily not the horrible songs). I was taken out of class once a week, along with three or four other students, for an accelerated writer’s workshop. We wrote more of our own stories and particularly read and wrote poetry.
Writing kind of became my thing even though poetry never stuck with me. In fifth grade, I would even trade other classmates, promising that I would do their Language Arts homework if they did my typing workshops for me (I am also fairly good at persuasion).
This stretch of “English greatness” stopped around 6th grade. I had to write countless essays for my English classes and I was putting way more effort into my musical extracurriculars. I’m not even sure if there was a writing club anymore. Writing became associated with all the schoolwork and books I had barely read. Sure, I got good grades on my papers, but there was no more space for writing for fun.
So, I had lost my love for writing.
Since I was known to family and friends as a lover of writing, this switch has hard for some people in middle school.
“Are you still writing?” family friends would ask. Usually, I would lie and say yes, but I knew the only writing I was doing was book reports. I hated to lie, but it seemed more difficult to explain than to lie.
As I spent my time on many, many other things, writing fell to the wayside completely. I never even THOUGHT about it until the summer before sophomore year of college. I arrived early to campus as a peer coach where we all had to discuss our extracurriculars at Bonaventure. One girl started to discuss Her Campus. I felt all the joy I had felt in elementary school come back to me.
This was a strange feeling. It had been a long time since I had written for pleasure, almost seven or eight years. Why was I so drawn to this club? My confusion held me back until around October when I decided to take the plunge and join with all credit to fellow member Cassidy Bertino who, thankfully, answered my Instagram dms.
Of course, my first few articles were NOT good. Please do not go back and read them, but writing is almost like riding a bike. Sure, it takes a bit of practice and training, but not something one cannot relearn.
Now having risen to the ranks of co-president, I find that my guiding value is to foster the little writer who lives inside of all us. She wants praise! She wants a new glitter gel pen to write with! And, most of all, she wants to write beautiful work that she is proud of. I am beyond proud and humbled to co-lead the club that can help shine even a fraction of her spark.
So, this is your sign to find YOUR hobby. Maybe it’s dance. Even if you haven’t danced in ages, join the SBU Dance Team. Maybe it’s acting. We have a great theater department! It could be a language, art, a physical activity or anything else under the sun. Even if it has been ages, and you are not good at it, just TRY.
Hobbies are about having fun, not about being the best at them. Honor your younger self!
I cannot wait to send a prayer to my younger self who now gets to see me with my elementary school ” published books” and my Her Campus printed magazine.