Have To

 I teach kids how to write.

This comes shortly after I have taught them how to read. 

The real challenge here is that both of these activities are seen by many of them as torture. 

I am in the awkward position of not being able to relate. At all. 

I do not remember a time in my life when I did not read. Books. Voraciously. 

I can remember when I started to write. It was in the second grade. It was a story called "The Drunken Snake." The encouragement I received from my teacher, Ms. Hof, powered me through until fourth grade where I became something of a cottage industry unto myself, writing and illustrating then taking the stories I wrote to Kindergarten and first grade classes to read aloud. 

Meanwhile, I was reading every fantasy book my fourth grade teacher, Ms. Stuart, could provide. When it was announced that we would have silent reading time, I never asked, "Do we have to?" When it was time to write, I did not write a sentence or two and beg to be released from this painful task. I never said, "Can I be done now?"

And so you see that when I encounter this marked lack of enthusiasm for the written word in my classroom, I struggle with some sort of empathetic response. I understand that their struggle is real, but I cannot relate. Whatever magical switch was flipped in me when I was very young or whatever genetic predisposition I have to be doing all this reading and writing sixty plus years down the path is a mystery to me.

I have spent my life in this neighborhood of words. I cannot imagine life without them. I am resolved with the mission to keep trying to deliver this love to a new generation. 

Because I have to.