I started blogging about two and a half years ago, in July of 2009. At the time, people I cared about were dealing with some pretty heavy shit. A friend of mine had just lost her parents and brother. One friend’s house had burned down. And another’s six-year-old daughter had recently drowned in a northern Michigan lake during a poorly supervised church outing.
You know that moment when you realize how mortal you are? Yeah. Mine stretched to fill a whole summer.
So I wrote about what made me happy: the creative writing seminar I attended every year as a teenager. The music responsible for keeping me sane. Books I loved.
It was (and remained) a pretty random blog. But that’s okay because it accurately reflected me as a person at the time. I was trying to figure myself out and therefore, dipped into a little bit of everything.
But these days, I feel a little bit more focused. (It’s about damn time.) I know what I’m doing, even if I’m still not quite sure where that will take me.
And so I’ve decided that it’s time to start a new blog. But my opinion of blogging (and what it should accomplish) has changed just as much as I have over the past two and a half years.
And that’s why I referenced Stephanie’s poem above. Without the blogosphere, I would never have connected with some of the great activists I’ve gotten to know. But if you want to be an activist, you can’t just stop at blogging. If anything’s ever going to change, you’ve got to do more than just “run your mouth.”
But, since I’m an English major, I will always value writing and will therefore always write, even though it is now only one aspect of who I am and what I do. And so, this.