The Magnifying Glass: My Relationship to Writing

When I was younger I thought I’d be Harriet the Spy. I wanted to see the world and write it in my composition book, documenting all the things the world thought were secret. I didn’t know what I’d do with those secrets, but at least I’d know…

When I was in 5th grade I started a journal. It wasn’t a flowery diary, but an investigative report into Ms. Martin’s class. Who caused drama? Note it. Who liked who? Wrote it down. Each person had a name and a page, and I would save it all in my head, until I went home, and wrote it down. Tensions, conflicts, the dark and gritty underside of elementary--- I wrote about it. One day I decided to go E! Hollywood story on my class. I dropped the book on the desk of a very popular girl. Did I have a death wish? She never spoke to me, surely I couldn’t speak to her, about her, and her secrets. This little book had the power to turn the magnet class upside down.

In the end, everyone loved it. You can write so much that you can’t say. Words I used to describe or explicate, to replay or revise, helped everyone look at each other and take a step back from the drama and gossip. In the pages of my composition book, people were able to laugh at themselves, and learn from themselves, and see what people really thought of them. My class begged me to write more about them. Hold me to the magnifying glass, they asked, show me who you think I am, I want to see my name in the little black book.

  I stopped writing, and picked it up intermittently, whenever I wanted people to pause, reflect, and see the way I wanted. Writing has been a great tool to reflect outward.

I’ve skillfully used writing as a magnifying glass, putting a spotlight on the people and problems around me. But this tool I wield can be more than a magnifying glass, it can be a mirror. This is an attempt to get closer to the mirror.