I had the benefit of having a non-stop string of excellent English teachers in middle and high school. In 8th grade, Mrs. Leavell introduced us to Ernest Hemingway. Miss Roark in 9th grade help a class of 35 boys discover Great Expectations, which turned out to be a great book for 14-year-old boys. Miss Campbell in 10th grade helped us understand Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar. In 11th grade, when Mrs. Prince wasn’t celebrating Jacqueline Susann’s The Valley of the Dolls (which she did not have us read), she’d rhapsodize about Thornton Wilder’s Our Town and Twain’s Huckleberry Finn. And in 12th grade, Miss Shorey guided 30 boys through the late 16th century Spain of Don Quixote.
As individual as they were, all my English teachers held one writer or poet in common esteem, the one considered the “American poet,” even when we studied world or English literature. This was the poet who, along with T.S. Eliot, all my teachers had studied when they were in middle and high school as well as college.
To continue reading, please see my post today at Tweetspeak Poetry.
Some Tuesday Readings
Chicago – poem by Carl Sandburg via Rabbit Rom Poetry.
Bend – poem by Jim Peterson at Good Life Review.
The Uncomfortable Art of Enjoying Poetry – Melissa Woodruff at Bandersnatch Books.
Poetry Prompt: Sink or Swim – L.L. Barkat at Tweetspeak Poetry.
Cultivate – poem by Bethany Lee at Every Day Poems.
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