It’s the beginning of senior year, and everything has turned into writing. Personal statements, supplementary essays, scholarship applications, internship demands, it doesn’t matter; the written word contains my fate. Almost—that’d be neat if it did. I actually like writing! But knowing how to write has become one of the most crucial skills in my life. Given how many of you are still in high school, I’d be willing to bet it will or already has for you as well. Why not stay ahead of the curve?

However, I don’t give this spiel to initiate you into some cult or convince you to become an author. I began writing when the pandemic struck in 7th and 8th grade, and only for one reason: I had to. I wasn’t as chatty as others, but the pandemic forced everyone to talk through text as opposed to in-person conversation. I didn’t have any aspiration to become a budding troubadour, tuning out my English teacher because my Picture of Dorian Gray was more poetcore than her To Kill A Mockingbird. But, middle schoolers are horrible at communication, and I was insecure about the fact that I wasn’t comfortable even presenting my thoughts as someone with a (developing) brain of my own. I didn’t need to become Hemingway or work for the New York Times; comfortably formulating my thoughts satisfied me, and it satisfies most of the demands our lives ask of us.

However, I strongly adhere to the idea of continual self-improvement, and so do most universities. Basic writing and spelling beyond a middle school level will ward off Ms. Pizzino’s evil eye of constructive criticism, but it holds you back in higher education. Imagine you’re a freshman biology major, but you haven’t taken a biology class since 8th grade. You’d be unprepared and not taken seriously. Writing is like that, except for every major that requires writing, which is all of them. It gets worse, though, because you’ll then step out of the classroom to apply for an internship, and you’ll need to write professionally, or it’ll cost you. Literally. The same applies to research spots or emails to your professors. Even if we return to senior year of high school, you’ll still have to write essays that are compared against tens of thousands of other applicants’ essays to decide which institution you’ll take on debt to live, eat, study, sleep, and breathe at for the next chunk of your life.

Scary? It shouldn’t be, because you’re likely young and smart if you’re a BASIS Independent Brooklyn student who reads the Grizzly. You have time to train this muscle and you can do so. You can practice writing not by forcing yourself to love it, but by exploring what you love the most. For some people, this is food; for others, movies. I always found it difficult to collect my thoughts about music, always having a circular conversation devoid of argument or cohesion with myself instead. So, the paper is where I give these sensations and reactions meaning (not to forget an audience!), thereby deepening my feelings—and often, fondness—towards the music I review. Writing offers you memorable experiences with your favorite parts of life while simultaneously preparing you for the future. Simply put, it lets you be good at and better enjoy life.

Others, though, are committed to finding their greater purpose in helping resolve global issues, like war, global warming, or poverty. Here, writers often write less to inform themselves and more to inform others. Writing, of course, handles spiritual health and existential crises equally well as it does Ten Things Phoebe Bridgers Can’t Live Without. For any occasion, whether it be diving into what delights you or tackling what agonizes you, it provides an avenue to live more fully. We miraculously acquired language to enrich and describe our primal emotions of joy or anguish—why not enrich these as much as you can?

As I touched on earlier with college, many of us will be living to take full advantage of the age of information that’s upon us. Some may highlight certain skills, like programming or using artificial intelligence, as important in 2024. Yet, thinking was just as important in 2024 BCE, and it’s as crucial or even more so now. Writing—both purposeful thinking and the communication of thoughts—takes its place, then, among all the other skills needed to succeed. While ChatGPT can write your history essay for you, it can’t replace your brain or your voice. Everyone can tell. As has been drilled into you in years past, adopt the active voice: think for yourself and start writing. Preferably at the Grizzly, but we’re not picky. We’re just glad to see you motivated to live meaningfully, pen in hand.