Personal Narrative: The Miracle Worker

Decent Essays
Whenever I felt a portion of my self was inaccessible and I desperately needed access to it, writing made my inner life come alive as a concrete manifestation. Writing has always been the crucial first stage in imparting all my favorite research discoveries and revelations, and over the years, I have realized that neglecting this step causes nothing but grief. I am going to traverse abandoned memories detailing how my craving for the written medium came to be. Throughout my life, writing has persistently remained my instinctual means for self-understanding and expression.
As I recollect my fledgling years as a writer. I can see myself scribbling with markers until my palms bled with the ink, filling blank books fashioned out of construction
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In my dual enrollment Acting I class, I wrote a paper analyzing a production of The Miracle Worker, a dramatic text depicting Hellen Keller’s historical struggle with her culminating afflictions of deafness and blindness. The potent symbolism and dramatic emotional content left me enraptured, and I enjoyed translating my narrative investigation to page. My instructor E.E. perceived my passion and directed it towards dramaturgical work. This overlap of fictional and historical had always fascinated me, and I used Dramaturgy to transmute this joy into an incarnate textual guide for another person. I know from personal experience that navigating untapped intellectual topics is a daunting task, which is why I loved spending my hours slaving through what others might consider tedious research. Locating the hidden gems and bringing them to light for other people to appreciate was a joy previously unmatched. As I pieced together overarching patterns, actors incorporated these cultural idiosyncrasies into their own characters as directors breathed sociopolitical nuance into their vision. Having my own not only read and appreciated by another but also applied to something so artistic and organic was incredible. This was the most vibrant and exciting chapter in my life as a writer to date, and though seeing it come to a close was bittersweet, I will always have these memories coupled with assurance I can take it up again like an abandoned childhood bicycle or an old trumpet from band class. You can never
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