The piece of writing that had the biggest impact on me isn't in the library

When I was 12, I could name just about every player in the National Hockey League. Hockey was life, and my parents supported this mania by shuttling my brother and me back and forth from practice and tournaments.

I loved it. Loved being on a team. Loved choreographing game-winning goals in the driveway. Loved colliding with other players and getting back up again to chase the puck. I was never on the first line, and I didn’t score many goals, but it was still fun to suit up.

Until the day it wasn’t.

I guess our team was underperforming, whatever that means in youth hockey, and I and another guy on my line were benched so that other players could get more playing time and hopefully more wins.

I don’t really remember the conversations with the team or my parents around that time, but I’ll always remember the letter my dad wrote to the coach and the other parents informing them that my brother and I wouldn’t be playing anymore.

It began, “Jack and Noah’s season ended today. Jack’s because he is judged the eighth or ninth-best skater on the team. Noah’s because brothers stick together.” It continued in that way, methodically laying out the reasons the situation was unfair and why we’d be removing ourselves from it.

I was just a kid so while I had some experience with talking back to bullies and jerks, never had I been defended in writing. Never had I experienced the power of the written word in such a personal way. It was the power of making a difficult but principled decision, the power in communicating effectively, and the power of writing from the heart for someone you love.

I’ve read a lot of acclaimed writing over the years, but it’s this letter from my dad that’s stuck with me and reminds me how I came to be the writer, and person, I am today.