“The View from My Cubby” (2023-2024)

I entered school with a devastating secret. When I wrote an essay, there was no rough draft, just as there was no final draft–there was only ever one draft. Not to say I wrote bad essays; my pieces were fine, but they didn’t advance my thinking. I knew what I thought about a topic and created an essay articulating these conclusions. My teacher, David Foley–a lovely professor and person–would not allow this behavior to continue. Early in the year, I realized that drafts were not only required for high marks but also were the cornerstone of his class. Professor Foley was concerned with the journey to our final draft and the struggle to find what we were trying to say. My previous essays were well crafted but lacked the depth only found through further investigation. The drafting process, my teacher and I agreed, would be my Everest. 

Professor Foley and his course immediately challenged all of my preconceived notions of what an essay was ‘supposed to be.’ In the past, I designed essays to erase myself, the author. Showing the reader my thinking and allowing my specific voice to color my piece was foreign to me and forced me to change my approach to academic writing. I began working with Teju Cole’s “Object Lesson” during my first week of college and quickly felt attached to it: I loved its intimacy and its simplicity. Professor Foley insists we must begin writing without knowing what we are writing about, instead finding it along the way. Through each exercise, I began finding my voice, and exploring how my unique perspective could enhance my work. After reading my first draft–an impersonal, fine essay–Professor Foley asked me to complicate it further by making it more personal and by rewriting my essay without any apathetic distance in my way. He was right. It was only after exploring my personal experience that I could step back and see what resonated so strongly with me about “Object Lesson.” The process was cathartic in a way I could not have predicted. Without the drafting process, the influence of my writing voice, and the guidance of Professor Foley, I would have a very different essay. A fine essay, maybe. But I like this one better.

Ava Wolesky grew up in Kansas City, Missouri, and is studying drama at the Tisch School of the Arts. Primarily working in the medium of goofing around, Ava is a member of Dangerbox Improv and  NYU’s Musical-Sketch Comedy group, LaLaHaHa. She also recently worked as a writer/performer in the NYU Reality Show at Radio City Music Hall. The time she doesn’t spend roaming the Met or Eataly is used obsessing over niche topics so that she might bombard her friends and colleagues with semi-useless information . . .  needless to say, her essays were created with great enthusiasm. This piece explores media-induced apathy and how utilizing the complicated relationship between objects and their owners might help us to overcome it.