Why is writing important?

Writing exposes the skeleton of a person. Ink strips meat from the bones, and presents a hollow shell that allows us to see the soul truth hidden under the fallacy of skin worn to protect ourselves. We spend our lives proving this external view exemplifies the “real me” to others gullible enough to believe. We become so good that we eventually con ourselves. My first portfolio focuses on answering the question, “Why hide who I am?” This is an inquiry I’ve dealt with for most of my life, the reason I started writing in the first place. I have since ripped apart my body and mangled my mind to solve the issue, and in doing so, I found I wasn’t concealing truth, but rather blind to it. And now I wonder is this issue of self was bigger than individual struggle, and a greater part of my ethical struggle? Is this problem relevant because of my African American past? I am afraid to connect to my ancestors because I know that the energy of oppression is still battling within the ideals of freedom. "The Coming," by Daniel Black has forced me to seek answers to my inquiries. He came to the school and discussed the power of being black in white America. He spoke, inspiring me to open up to my lost culture. No, not lost, left. Left on the skeleton shores. And now I am closer to seeing the truth beneath this painted brown skin of mine.