Rodney Fenner

Why I Write By: Rodney Fenner

Hello world. I went to Norview High School in my ninth grade and was in a class with a girl by the name of Diamond. It’s always a girl isn’t it? Well, this girl was really dark skinned and really beautiful. Of course, I was attracted to her. I always finished my work early and used to watch her because at the time, I was too shy and/ or scared to say anything to her in reference to taking her out or getting her number. For those of you who think elite natural beauty isn’t intimidating, think again. As I watched her day after day, I learned that she was very intelligent and finished her work right after or sometimes before me. This raised my interest in her, but what really intrigued me about this intelligent, quiet and beautifully dark young woman was her notebook. Every day when she finished her work early, she would write in this notebook. She used to look so submerged in her thoughts and then she would write and be just as submerged in her words. On day, she caught me spying and responded with a small smile. Captivated by her smile and unable to look away, I was forced to say something or suffer looking as weird to her as I already felt for spying. So I awkwardly asked what she was writing. She showed me her notebook and introduced me to the eyes, heart and soul of a true poet. I read a few of them and to this day, I cannot remember the titles or what any otlf them were about, but I do remember that they moved me in a way that I had never been moved before. He words leapt off the page and encased me in a world as vivid and tangible as the world I breathed air from. I got lost in it and came out changed. Naturally she was humble when I praised her, giving me only a shy smile and words of disbelief of the talent I told her she possessed. She was sweet with such unwarranted insecurity about her craft. After that, every time I saw her in school, I would look at that notebook that she carried everywhere and wonder what new worlds she’d forged between the margins of its pages with her ink. I was later expelled for inciting a riot and have only seen Diamond once since then. I walked past her in Military Circle Mall once and her beauty was still paralyzing. I saw the recognition in her eyes, but neither of us had the courage to speak. I wish I’d spent some time with her, but she’s always been with me every single time I write. I used to wonder why she was so quiet in school when she was so articulate and compelling with her words. Her notebook inspired me to try my hand at my own creative expression and I’ve never looked back. Love for expression inundated me completely, carrying me in its current on innumerable adventures with the most exciting words, the most vivid visions and the deepest emotions. I’m still in those waters, but the only difference is that now I’m surfing those waters instead of being helplessly carried. After fourteen years of writing, I still don’t think my poetry is as good as hers she we were in ninth grade. I eventually progressed from poetry to writing books. The crazy thing is I began writing my first book on a dare. I love both crafts though. The point to this is that, in life, everyone will come across a person or situation that will inspire them to do or be what they were put here to do or be. Our job is to recognize it, embrace it and allow it to be our driving force. When you know you are supposed to be doing something and you really are supposed to be doing that thing, it will bring you joy without effort and things will begin to fall into place for you. You have to be absolutely committed to it though. My poetry is a dedication to the woman who gave me that inspiration that powers every stroke and curve of my pen. Thank you Diamond and I hope that one day I can return the favor. Peace.

Rodney Fenner
DOC #1436377

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