The Why Post

Why do I want to be a writer?

On the first day of the "Issues in Arts Journalism" class with David Rubins, who used to be the dean of the Newhouse School, went through half of us and asked, "Why do you want to be an arts journalist?"

Some, such as Sarah, in her Tennessee accent, loved and appreciated the arts and since she does not have the talent to be an artist or performer, she would rather write about it. Others, such as Deandra, who has beautiful curly hair, said that she wanted to scope out new artistic talent.

Halfway to the table we went and in my mind, I was shouting, "I just want to write! How come no one said anything about writing?"

Finally, Dean Rubins (what us Newhouse scholars like to call him since he used to be our dean) said, "You all say that you cannot participate in the arts but you forget that writing is an art form as well. To be able to form words into images, that takes great skill."

There it was, I don't know what I could call it, but it seemed to justify why I wanted to be there. It wasn't until I came to Syracuse, talking with others in my program and why we chose to come here rather than stay at home that a revelation came to me: I just wanted to write. It was, and has so far, been the clearest indication that this is what I was meant to do.

I just want to write. To write about things that matter to me, about beautiful people singing and dancing on screen or that Renoir painting standing on the wall that always has me in tears. I want to give that feeling to someone else.

So that question of why do I want to be a writer?

Not because I cannot do anything else or because it's the only thing left for me to do. If I can ever write anything as beautiful as Walt Whitman when he wrote "I celebrate myself, and sing myself/And what I assume you shall assume/For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you" then I will know that I was meant to be a writer.

As for now, I don't know if this is that higher calling that the religious folks always talk about but I do know that it's the only thing I'm sure of right now. And since it has been a certainty that has lasted more than a month, then there must be some truth.

So I want to be a writer because it is what I love to do, and when you can take that love and produce something that you are proud of, that other people will love, then why would you not do everything you can to get yourself to that point?

For now, I will wake up as early as I need to, stay as late as necessary, and work until I can no longer think. It's all felt painless, not a chore, because I am finally, actively moving towards my end goal. Since being here, I now realize what I want to do. And no one, least of all myself, will convince myself otherwise.

Though you always have those moments of doubt, that's part of being a writer.