I remember walking out of a writing conference a few months ago bemoaning the poor quality of my writing. "I swear my science classes are destroying my ability to write," I lamented, "I keep slipping back into passive voice."
"What is your major anyway?" my classmate asked, "English?"
"No. I'm a chemistry major," I replied.
"What are you doing here?"
It was an excellent question. What was I doing in English 311? Why was I spending my time attending a class I was bound to get another B in, when I could be acing science classes like a proper chemistry major? I'm not great at writing, and I'm dyslexic besides, so I wonder why I keep at it. I sometimes think I'm a strange sort of masochist.
I am occasionally told my writing will be a great benefit to me in my future as a chemist. This always makes me laugh. The way I learn to write in my science classes would mortify any English professor, and my writing style for English courses would be just as distressing to my science professors.