(a recruit that who couldn’t)
The word “that” refers to objects, “who” refers to people.
One of the most fascinating authors of non-fiction I’ve ever read is named Trevanian. Quite a mysterious person, as I am sure is the intention. It’s been over thirty years, long before the internet was as popular and widespread as it is today, so I’m sure an internet search could turn something up.
Like you, Poe is one of my favorites. Typical of many people, I’ve read a great deal of Stephen King. Dean Koontz is another science fiction author whose works are really good. Rita Mae Brown, James A. Michener, James Clavell, Alice Walker, Amy Tan, the list goes on and on.
~
Thank you. Over the decades, I’ve had many people express to me their encouragement that I take up writing. (Now that I think about it, the first time was when my seventh grade Creative Writing teacher said it. I had written a short story in first person from the point of view of a girl who had a twin sister. My teacher was extremely impressed with the empathy I came up with in getting inside a 12-year-old girl’s head.)
~
I share the sentiments of those encouraging well-wishers who have said I should write. I’d love to put out some fiction works and even non-fiction. On the side of reality, I’ve read about more than a few published authors’ struggles to finally realize their goals, and I know my own mother‘s lifelong journey along those lines, and while it’s not all doom and gloom, nor is it strictly disconcerting, it’s certainly sobering. You have also recounted your goals and the paths leading to them, so I want you to know that I do pay attention to what you write.
I believe the possibility exists that I may do some serious writing some day.
~
My mother was the same way in regards to baby talk; she was not a proponent of it in any way, nor was slang or any other kind of street talk allowed in our household. I grew up with the understanding that it was akin to disrespect to speak to her that way, and of course, that extended to how we were expected to and allowed to speak to other people, not just adults, but all people. To me and for me, reading opened up so many other doors in many other aspects of everyday life that I have always enjoyed my love for it. In addition to being taught the alphabet and how to read AT HOME before even going to preschool, I can also remember being taught how to properly answer the telephone, how to greet people who knocked at the door, how to introduce myself and to respond when being introduced, the importance of pronouncing words correctly, how to look up words I didn’t understand, how to use reference books, etc. Some components that I picked up as a direct result of learning to read were an uncanny ability at spelling, conjugation, synonyms, sentence structure, syntax, a broad vocabulary, chronology in storytelling, and of course, it either all fed or was fed by my overly vivid imagination.
I began kindergarten through the second grade at a school of over 90% white students, and the corresponding education offered there was far better than that being belched out in the elementary schools closer to home. My mother first of all investigated the best options and then pulled strings to have her children sent all the way across town to the better school, an act of love for which I will forever be in her debt.
In those first three years, I was never made fun of or bullied about “my smarts”. It was just an accepted fact amongst the peers that Randy and his siblings were smart kids. It wasn’t until the next school year when the politics of “forced” busing brought the advent of black students from my own neighborhood to those better schools, and students from the better schools being sent to the schools in my neighborhood. Each student spent half the school year in the home district and the other half bused to the other district. It was at that point that I first faced any ridicule or negativity for “talking white”, all of which came from my fellow black students. Of course, I was lumped onto the category of scorn that many of the black students had for the overall student body at the better school, but being black myself, and with so few black students originating at the better school, that scorn was multiplied. Being so young, I never let it faze me, never let my grades slip in order to fit in. On the contrary, I continued to be the sane kind of student I had always been, one who loved learning and loved school.
When I became a parent, I carried on my mother’s tradition of never using or allowing baby talk and/or slang to be my children’s primary forms of communication, I taught them to read shortly after they began to talk, and throughout their childhoods, I encouraged and reinforced the importance of getting good educations, among other positive life lessons. My wife and I are not grandparents (and the way things are going, we doubt we ever will be, we think we’re just going to skip it and become great-grandparents instead), but we look forward to yet another generation taking up that same mantle.
~
This post was edited by Randy D at July 23, 2020 3:07 PM MDT
Duplicate post.
Element 99 