I work as a proofreader for a corporate editing company. I love it. I’ve just signed my full-time work contract with them, and start properly in March. When I first started, I was cocky. I thought “I know everything, and I’m going to fit in here because I’ll be surrounded by people who also know everything”. Looking back on it, I feel like kicking myself or finding a time machine and shaking me, saying “You know nothing”.

It’s true. I know nothing. Even after four years of proofreading, I find it difficult to change a passive sentence into an active sentence. I don’t understand how to simplify phrases into singular words. I only know how to say “that’s wrong, and I’m going to change it, but I can’t explain why”. I can spot a double space a mile away. I can tell if you’ve switched font size by one point. I thought I was brilliant. I’m not.

The coworker sits next to me. She’s sullen, sarcastic, and snarky. But I like her. We’re similar in some ways. I constantly feel as though she doesn’t like me, even to the point where my General Manager told me that “some people here think that you’re not good enough”. I think I know who she means. The coworker gave me an old annual report in layout to proofread. I did it, thoroughly, and even made sure to not put in any commas, because I use commas too much. I then had to find the mark-up that had been sent back to the client and mark anything I had missed in a different colour. I gave it to the coworker, who sneered and said “This was the first annual report I did when I first started”.

Great. Fantastic.

I told her all of the things I felt I was not yet strong with — capitalisation of professions or job titles, leaving things in italics when they shouldn’t be. She flipped through it and never once said anything about the large number of things I had picked up on.

She turned to me and said “I don’t think you read enough books”.

I was gobsmacked. Me? Not reading enough books? I carry a book wherever I go, am starting a book club, have just finished an English degree, and have a large pile of books that I keep buying from book cafes. And she thinks I don’t “read enough books”??

She then went on to say that perhaps I started proofreading at too young an age, and that it had led me to be arrogant about my skill, without pushing it forward anymore and simply relying on things I had picked up on as a kid. I felt like a child.

However, I felt that perhaps there was some truth to it. I did start quite young, and maybe that would stop me from being moulded into something the company wants me to be. Maybe children should just be children, gifted or not, skilled or not. If I had only discovered this skill at the age of 20 instead of 12, then perhaps I would have been less arrogant and feel less entitled.

I think that no matter what the skill is, whether it be music, chess, sport or writing, a child should remain a child and dabble in the skill just enough to be interested, but not enough to be considered a prodigy. Because if you’re considered a prodigy, then your head may not be able to fit through the door of your first full-time job.