What Have I Learned?

As I try to decipher what it is I have learned in this class my mind keeps pulling me back to a 7th grade English class. I was 13 years old and just starting to find that I was capable of putting my imagination into words. I was experimenting with a kind of creative literature that was supposed to be poetry. I have had a fascination with poetry from early elementary. So, as a thirteen year old, I was casually experimenting with creating my own works. I'm sure it could hardly be called poetry, it was more like some dumb kid was just randomly writing down paragraphs. My parents should have recognized this and bought me a journal. Then I could just say I was journaling. This was in 1987 though, words like blogs didn't exist yet, computers still had a lot of growing up to do and the internet wouldn't be known to the general public for another decade.. So, I would venture to say that my poetry was probably be more like a blog if anything. Just some ramblings of a thirteen year old kid who was on the verge of discovering love and pain. All in the same day. My point is that the experimental, melodramatic ramblings going on in my head were finding there way through my body and out through the lead of a No.2 point lead pencil.
 Anyways, I was sitting in class, day dreaming about Lord knows what, probably about my future sex life, when my English teacher walked by and placed a graded writing assignment of mine on my desk. I don't even remember the score, based on my life time GPA, it was probably a low C. I don't remember the assignment or the teachers name. What I remember is, as the teacher placed the paper on my desk, she whispered, "Your writing" then made a gasping sound and walked off. That was it. I was left to having to decipher what the hell that meant. Was that an exasperated gasp? Or was it to express her joy and sensation at reading such an epic piece of literature. The grade didn't reflect. Any marks higher than a C would have elated me, cementing the moment into my memory forever. Did her words indicate that I was such an exceptional pupil and capable of properly finishing her thoughts. Or, did she just choose wisely to not finish a cruel thought. Did she want to say ' Your writing makes you sound retarded'. I am also left handed, so anything hand written in ink, or lead, would slightly smear as I drew my hand across the page as I wrote. Righties won't understand, lefties will. Was she just stating that reading through my lead colored paper was tough to do? Whatever she meant, I took it as as a positive, negative. Used it continue exploring my thoughts with a lead pencil to get better and enjoy. I have long since discontinued my creative writing, lost with my innocence I suppose. I know that my words as a young writer grew dark and ominous. I was a troubled teen, from a broken home. I would soon experience pain, addiction and sorrow. So my writing would reflect that. Just thinking about all of that causes me to feel that little tug at my heart. That need to communicate my thoughts creativity. In an effort to express his sorrow about the worlds inability to communicate positively Paul Simon wrote, " Hello darkness my old friend, I have come to walk with you again". These lyrics would be the opening words in the Sound of Silence. A song that would propel the careers of Simon and Garfunkle. Kind of how I feel at the moment thinking about all of that.( Song Facts).

I have rambled on. The point that I am trying to make about my learning outcomes in this class is that we began learning what we have just learned when we were children. We began summarizing when we learned to read. We started analyzing when we took our first breaths. Elementary school started to teach us punctuation and structure. This class just stressed those at an accelerated level. I guess for me this class has taught me to explore things in literature a little deeper by exploring them with our minds.

Ever wonder what the paramedics really think? See video.

Works Cited:
Song Facts, http://www.songfacts.com/detail.php?id=796