I’ve had my share of struggles with the Red Pen Monster.
I’m going to pat myself on the back because my taming of the red pen monster has stuck. I no longer knee-jerk react when faced with giving feedback on my teens’ papers.
(And yes, I still wait 24 hours before writing feedback.)
I think that personal growth deserves a minimum six-month supply of Lindt’s sea salt chocolate bar.
The other day I was at my desk, ready to give feedback on my son’s latest essay. My desk was its usual mid-week mess with a handful of pens scattered all over it. I mindlessly reached out to grab one and happened to pick up a red pen.
Uh oh. Stop.
I better pick another color. Because, RED PEN.
But then I did stop. Ever the questioner, I wondered what exactly is wrong with a red pen. And how does the Red Pen feel being labeled as bad? Red Pen didn’t ask for a bad rap! And red is the color of love too.
What if I use the red pen to only write what I love about their writing?
I’ll even draw little hearts.
There you go, you guys.
Red pen reclaimed.