Tracing and Writing: The Solitary Tracer and the Sleeping Diamond

My first-grade son is a bit of a goofball.
He is also clumsy.
He is a little slow to develop.

But compared to three months ago, or even a month ago, he is growing today. Within himself, he is improving and moving forward.

He isn't very good at schoolwork in general, but he is especially bad at writing. He started learning katakana in the second term, but his hiragana is still shaky.
He writes characters like 'tsu' and 'su' mirrored.
He writes the dot above the 'u' (the first stroke) in a strange position.

On worksheets, he somehow writes his answers in boxes other than the designated answer space.

His name doesn't fit in the name box. It spills over. And because he breaks the lines in weird places, the spilled-over characters are completely unreadable.

Even so, even so, there is something he has improved at recently.
As his mother, it's something that makes me want to cry with joy.

He has become good at tracing.

Practice books for hiragana and such have parts to trace at the beginning.
They have 'a' written lightly, and gradually it becomes just empty squares.
Regarding those lightly written parts, he used to think,
'Who cares about the model! I'll do it my own way!'
and ignore all the lines, writing characters that were so
clumsy, free-spirited, energetic, and bold that even Kobo Daishi would be surprised. But now, he shows such mastery (in tracing) that I wonder, 'Oh, did you trace this? You didn't write it directly?'

A genius of tracing, a solitary 'tracelist' is born.
And because he is a bit of a goofball, he gets carried away easily.

'Oh, am I that good? Oh, really? I was even able to write this...'
He can't hide his happiness. He starts mass-producing them.

I see. Teacher. Admiral Yamamoto Isoroku.
I had completely forgotten your famous quote.

This is it. This is what you meant by,
"Show them, tell them, let them try, and praise them, or they will not act".

Instead of lamenting what he cannot do, I should count and build upon what he can do.
Come to think of it, a relationship guidebook once said it's better to use an additive method rather than a subtractive one.

My son is slower to grow than others, takes longer to understand things than others, and yet the class doesn't wait for him.
He must have been trying so hard that he was trying too hard in his solitude.

While I, his mother, am trying hard not to try too hard, he is trying and trying and trying, and since that effort isn't conveyed to people on the outside, I wonder if he has been struggling all by himself.

I am sorry I didn't notice.
Truly, you are a solitary person.

As for me, I have my own frustrations lately.

That my own writing is sloppy.

I read a lot of people's writing on note, and it makes me realize once again that writing is a matter of sense. There are so many people who are just bundles of talent. It's frustrating. While reading, I find it interesting, and at the same time, I laugh, but then I feel frustrated.

There are people who write addictive, quirky prose that makes you want to keep reading forever. It's unique yet strangely comfortable, and the content sinks in perfectly; it's all just interesting. If I were to compare it to something, it's like gum that changes flavor as you chew. The more you chew, the more new flavors appear, so you never get bored. I'm the type who wants to swallow it while it still has flavor.

On the other hand, there are people who write very refined and elegant prose. To be honest, I'm envious. And if it just ended at being beautiful, I could forgive it, but it's also interesting. Even the punchline is excellent. When it gets to this point, it's just unfair. If I were to compare it to something, it's like a cream soda. You get to eat the ice cream, and the melon soda quenches your thirst. I absolutely love the part where the soda bubbles, the ice cream, and the ice all mix together. And they even put a cherry on top—it's just too cute from the look of it.

As a representative of the puzzle-lists, I could try tracing it, but a thought keeps bubbling up that there's probably more to it than just that.

Something that cannot be compensated for by technique or vocabulary.

Yes, perhaps it's human strength.

The writer's good character, their refinement, their personality—it all seeps through. That is what writing is.

If you want to become good at writing quickly, the first step is to change your thinking. To change your thinking, you must change your actions.

Experience is born from thought, and thought is born from action.

That is my favorite fable. No, it was originally said by a great man named Benjamin Disraeli. I don't really know what he did.

"If you neglect to polish it, even a jewel with light will be no better than a roof tile."

And speaking of changing actions, it reminds me of the fortune I drew at Meiji Jingu Shrine when I was still in my teens, even after rounding up.

Yes. A diamond is just a stone if you don't polish it.
Even the legendary Konosuke Matsushita left behind a maxim.

The role of a manager is like that of a parent in a family.
I want to teach my children how to polish themselves, too.
To you, a raw diamond shining brightly. And to me.

We are truly sharpening each other.