Alongside my mother, I would sit and write my name over and over.  Usually, it was sloppy, little-kid handwriting, but eventually, I learned how to write my name legible.  After a while, my mom decided one day that she was going to teach me cursive. I would practice writing “Emma” over and over in cursive.

A few years later, I was sitting in Mrs. B’s third grade class, and she started teaching all of us how to write in cursive.  I already knew how, thanks to my mom, so I would fly through the practice books. Since I would have free time, Mrs. B would get me to write stories and poems in cursive as extra practice.  I come to find a deep interest in poems. Rather than writing stories, I would sit at my wooden desk, with my almost-to-the-end wooden pencil, and practice writing poems in cursive.

I never thought I was good at writing.  I just found something about it to be a release for me.  I thought all the poems I would write just sounded like your average third-grade student.  I never believed my poems would take me anywhere, but It was wrong.

Later that year, there was a competition called Young Authors.  Students could submit a poem or story related to the given theme. The first award was school level, then county, then state,  The theme of that year was “Treasures of North Carolina.” Without a doubt, I had decided to write a poem. I wrote a poem about my family vacation to the North Carolina Battleship and named it “My Battleship Treasure.”  After submitting my poem, I was anxious to find out if I won anything.

Towards the end of the year, I was sitting at my pencil-covered wooden desk, and Dr. Maynor, our school’s principal, came over the announcements.  My head lifted up from my work as I anxiously listened to the announcements. I remember when he said, “this year’s school winners are”, and in one of the following sentences I heard him say “Emma Maltba with My Battleship Treasure.”  The rest of that day is a bit of a blur because I was too excited. All I remember was thinking to myself this is not happening.  

Later, I found out that I had not only placed in school, but I had also placed in county and state.  Since I placed statewide, I was invited to this massive awards ceremony in Raleigh. The day I went to the awards, I wore my favorite fringed, orange shirt and a jean skirt.  I remember walking up to this tall building with an abundant amount of windows. We walked in the glass double-doors into this large conference room, where there was hundreds of students from around the state.  As the awards went on, they finally called my name. I got up and walked across this little, wooden stage that was set up and shook a bunch of strangers’ hands. They put a bronze medal around my neck that had a red, white, blue strap, and they also gave me a certificate that at the top said, “Congratulations to Young Author Emma Maltba.”  

To this day, these vivid memories stick in my mind.  They remind me of what shaped my love for poetry, and they show me that no matter how small, you can still accomplish things.  I have no desire to grow up to be a published writer, but these experiences helped shape me to use poetry as an expression for myself.