Umm Anthony, Words Mean Everything.

“Can't tell you nothing you ain't already heard
No matter what I say it's nothing but words
Just let me prove to you what I know is real
Let me express to you the way that I feel”
~ Anthony David, Words.

I think Anthony is full of shit. If it were “nothing but words” then why is it taking me so long to crank out the mere 1,400 words of sweet nothings designed to woo my way into the gracious hearts of various graduate admissions committees across the country? How do I finesse their minds in such a way that they would be willing to over look my low GRE scores, and my first two years I bullshited my way through college which resulted in me having less then stellar grades. Yeah, it’s true that I more than made them up by doing phenomenally well the last three years while working nearly 30 hours per week and attending school, but hasn’t every other candidate been through something similar??

It’s simply taking me forever to write a personal statement and statement of purpose for my graduate applications. It hasn’t taken me months, weeks, or days but years. Three years of looking for the right words to say that “I am passionate about journalism,” and “fluck those other candidates- I am what you are looking for.”

Not to mention the fact that Rabiah doesn’t want to go to just ANY school (raising pinky to lip), she has to go to one of the best an Ivy League preferably, or she doesn’t want to go. I am so working on being a little more humble, and being okay with going to a tier two school. At the moment though, I’d be lying if I didn’t say that I am striving for the best.

I didn’t want to come at them with the same sob story that most minorities have when they grew up poor. Yeah, the streets were hard, that’s why I couldn’t go out in them. I was sheltered so to speak. My high school was over crowed, didn’t have adequate books or enough teachers who cared. However, my teachers did care, I was in Advanced Placement classes and I had been taking additional community college courses since I was 15. I think they’ve read enough of those.

I could talk about my experience in the field, but my resume does that already.

Over achiever? Not really. Hard worker? Definitely. It’s the story of my life.

Ironically enough, the only thing that is really holding me back is my lack of confidence in my own writing.

Though I want to be a full-time journalist, I don’t consider myself a writer. To me a writer is someone who loves the science of written words. Writers paint pictures with words. Punctuation, grammar, sentence structure, are like paint brushes and a new Microsoft Word document is a canvas. They can invent phrases and invoke emotion. I love reading real writers, my friends the Golden Girls-Nakia, Syn, Britt, Lola, Dayna, in fact are amongst the best. Reading their work along with other writers such as Phellah G, Justin, JaySpace, We All Like Things, and One Man Gang, tells me I’ve got lots of work to do.

I can write too, I just wouldn’t say that a “real writer” is who I am. I don’t write because I love the craft of writing. I write because I like to talk, and inform people. I write to debate and discuss issues. I write so people can understand where I am coming from. I am not stringent about grammar and punctuation. It doesn’t bother me when people don’t stick to conventional standard forms of writing. Just don’t use large vocabulary words incorrectly and we won’t have any issues. Lol

I just want people to hear my voice and understand where I am coming from. The admissions committee wants to see evidence of a solid command of the written language. I don’t have an elegant prose to pen. My writing style is straight forward. I write the way I speak, revised.

Is it enough? Is it okay that I won’t be the next Maya Angelou or Toni Morrison? Sigh. Hopefully tomorrow I’ll have more ideas to write this statement from hell. These words that mean everything. As for now, my pillow awaits.