And You Decided Correcting the Word Torture Might Be A Good Thing

This will probably be one of the easiest blog posts I can spin off before my coffee brews in the morning.

You know, every once in awhile you come across something that just begs questions and commentary.

Since I am inclined at the moment to gradually share things I’ve written going pretty far back during different points in my life, I should start with the earliest available writing, lol…

Somewhere in my mother’s house – as an adult – I found this poem.

It appears to be a Haiku assignment of some sort? I have analyzed the format, somewhat.

There are several things that interest me as I read this and put it into some type of context.

I think it was Mrs. Zebb’s class, 4th grade, Wilson Elementary School. Newark, Delaware.

It appears I was either given or selected a topic: Life

It appears that we were given some type of structure to follow.

It appears that my mother took it out of my bookbag, likely read it allowed, corrected my spelling of the word “torture,” and put the date on it. (I can see erasure marks under the word torture).

Because I clearly know those parts are in her writing, the other in mine.

There is nothing wrong with documenting some types of things, or teaching and correcting.

But this really disappoints me.

Because…now I can only speculate how I spelled “torture” at nine years old.

Or why a nine-year-old might use this word!

Now it’s no fun!

Clearly this kid “ain’t no picnic!”

It’s ruined I tell ya -ruuuuinnnneeeddd!!!!!

How torcherous!