Why write? Or read, for that matter?
Why spend the time and effort to inscribe thoughts in printed words, or make the effort to read and comprehend their meaning?
What is the purpose of the written word and how does that match up with the values of human life?
More selfishly, why am I, Jeremy Driskell, a writer? Or am I…?
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Writing most likely originated as a means of conveying a message to someone who might follow after, letting a friend know your route and, perhaps, why you took it. In this original purpose of writing, the purpose was to leave meaningful communication behind to be understood by another.
There was little to no subtext, no deeper meaning lying beneath the surface of the characters. Everything was simple and direct.
Of course, this was an extremely limited form of communication. Human communication involves so much more than just the surface-level meaning. When speaking with another in person, there are body language cues, tones of voice, forms of address, and endless other subtleties that couldn’t be easily through straightforward messages.
The written word is not the best medium for conveying these underlying messages. This is why endless means of conveying parts of these unworded messages have developed over time. Adjectives for characterizing things, adverbs for characterizing actions, literary modes for likening and comparing things to each other, even emojis as a shorthand to express emotions associated with a message—to name a few.
These have added great complexity to the messages that we can convey, though they rely upon the reader’s familiarity with the convention used. This doesn’t change the purpose of writing—conveying meaning to those who are not in your presence.
On a personal note, in light of this current medium of journaling largely for my own consumption, it is to convey meaning from the self of the present to the self of the future or—in the unlikely event that most of this will be read by others—to a hypothetical reader somewhere down the line.
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Does this not seem arrogant? What value do I think my words have that will transcend time, that will add to the life of the reader in the future? Where is the source of my confidence that what I write is worthy of preservation?
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Considering this argument about writing, reading must then be the process of trying to receive the message left behind by a writer.
In light of this, reading is an act of trust. By choosing to read, I am pre-supposing that the words will have a meaning worthy of the time I put into reading them.
It is possible to read objectively and carefully, rejecting things that do not match our values. Although this is true, in the absence of blocks and intentional critical thinking, I think that we naturally have already accepted a message that we read and comprehend as true. Again, reading is an act of trust.
Whether we will act on the content of the message is another matter altogether.
In light of this, it is no wonder that our society is so confused, that it accepts ludicrous statements as fact and shouts them from the rooftops. Truth is deemed relative, thus we grab ahold of whatever seems to resonate with our values without a second thought. This, I know, is my common practice as well—I cannot deny it.
But I digress.
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In light of these truths about writing and reading—that all writing conveys meaning, that meaning is naturally accepted without thought—it follows that the action of writing is, by nature, that of teaching.
A teacher is one that purports to know something and attempts to convey it to another. Writing is, by its nature, a claim of value in a message to be imparted to the reader. Speaking is the same. In fact, all communication asserts the value of its message by the mere act of existence.
Hence the rub.
I’ve lost confidence in myself as a teacher.
So as one who feels called to writing, to communication, to teaching, what am I to do?
Continued in [Placeholder For Continuation Link]Considering the Responsibility of the Teacher[/Placeholder For Continuation Link]