My mom ruined my life. Or, at least that’s what I would have told you when I was nine years old. While some kids spent their summers laughing with friends and exploring neighborhoods on their bikes, I worked my way through mother-assigned reading and writing drills.
It was very unfair.
You see, mom was an English teacher, and nothing mattered more to her than facilitating my grasp of the English language. Having a decent vocabulary or average essay writing skills was never enough. It was paramount that I achieve language arts perfection. That summer I read Macbeth, penned lyrical poetry, and flipped through grammar flashcards with finesse. Remember, I was only nine.
Yet, as an adult, these experiences stuck with me and shaped my career. When given the chance to write web content for the Research Institute on Addictions, I asked myself: What would mom do? And then considered the best ways to distill scientific research into digestible, attention-grabbing information for any audience. By flexing my persuasive writing muscles, I generated excitement and interest in upcoming events and new restaurants on Yelp’s social media channels. My work at the University at Buffalo focuses on creating content that answers students’ questions before they even ask them. By drafting student-centered communications, enrollment is now higher than it’s been in years.
I may have missed out on afternoons filled with chalk art, cherry popsicles, and bike rides. But, my mom taught me how to write clearly, concisely, and thoughtfully. I understand the importance of writing about what I know and researching what I don’t. Because my focus is centered on my readers, I always practice radical empathy. No matter what.
As it turns out, my mom did not ruin my life at all. She paved the way for my communications career. Now I just need to teach her how to take a breath, step outside, and savor a cherry popsicle on a warm summer day.
-Danielle LeGare