Oh you fancy, huh?

For some strange reason when I was riding down the road the other day, this one particular memory came to mind.

I’m guessing it’s because I’ve started back writing and subconsciously my mind wants to remind me of rejection and failure. Nevertheless, the memory was there and I had to full heartedly deal with it. The memory that was conjured up from the depths of hell in my life was a time in middle school. We had a journalism club back then, and if you were part of that journalism club you could do the daily news in the morning which appeared in every class room around school. I decided that year to try out for it. Now, I’d received accolades from teachers and friends about how great of a writer I was, but I wasn’t prepared for what would happen next. I wrote a dope article is all I could remember, I couldn’t tell you exactly what it was about, I just know it was dope and there was no way I wouldn’t be a part of the journalism team. I just knew with my unique penmanship and my expansive literary mind there was no way she wouldn’t choose me to become a part of those elite students. I was ready and prepared to take my throne behind the morning news chair.

          I was sitting at my desk when she passed the articles back out, and I was ready to tell her she made an excellent decision in choosing me because I am a hard worker, an excellent writer, and wonderful researcher. To my surprise, I received the article back and there it was…. a paper full of red marks.

“Umm, how dare she? You do not, I repeat, do not, mark up a paper of one of the best writers in this school with red marks!” I thought. To my surprise though, I saw every reason behind all of those red marks. Since I was younger, I wanted to stick out with my penmanship and I worked hard to write all fancy and stuff. So, I would practice for days on end in my youth different ways to set my writing a part. However, I picked up a bad habit. I started to write fancy capital A’s in my sentences. I knew not to write capital A’s in my sentences as a rule and she should’ve known they were just fancy A’s, but no she just had to mark up my paper to let me know ain’t that much fancy in the world. I was distraught, and it dampened my pursuit in writing for a while. That one moment of rejection, that I played a part in, did something to my psyche and until this day I didn’t know how deep it was.

Rejection wanted to rear its ugly face again to remind me of my inadequacies, my failures, and my rejections. Yet, it forgot one thing, and that’s my tenacity. I never stopped writing behind closed doors because of the incident, and I never stopped using my God given ability to heal areas of my heart or write down my experiences. My writing is my medicine no matter if it places me in front of a crowd. That’s what I forgot, and that’s what that memory reminded me of. I didn’t focus on the rejection, as much as, the love that was buried deep down in my heart for writing that I forgot about. I used that push and pull of rejection, and actually became the first student at my high school to conduct a black history program with my own self written black history play. So, what?! I decided to be fancy with my capital A’s and got rejected for a moment. It’s a part of life and a lesson learned to keep striving no matter what. I took my fancy A’s and turned them into A’s in life. I took my fancy A’s and never stopped being inspired or being motivated to push and accomplish any task I set my mind to. The reminder of rejection thought it defeated me once again, but this time it reminded me of how strong I am and how fancy I can be. Appreciate it bad memory!