Today in my speech class our teacher had us stand up and move to two sides of the classroom. She asked us 5 questions, and we’d move to a certain side if the answer was yes, the other side of the classroom if it was a no. She stared with “Have you ever referred to anyone as a bitch?” Then moved to questions like: “Called anyone a fag? A situation ‘Gay’? Retarded?” and you’d see movement in the classroom, but never really a lot. The majority of the class stayed on the ‘yes’ side, and it was shocking to feel even myself move back and forth in the classroom. We all carry around this quick judgement, and it’s terrible. That lesson was so simple, but it impacted me. It reminded me that sometimes I need to carry a lighter heart; everyone does.
I’ve always had a certain love towards poetry, even back when I read “The Giving Tree” by Shel Silverstine. I enjoy analyzing poems, all it’s components and thoughts; understanding each line as it stands alone. But to me, there’s always been something great about poems that I’ve kept to myself, the real reason I really like poetry. We constantly get so caught up in what we say, our diction and syntax, but in poetry none of that matters. It shares the same component that all art shares I guess, something I really value. Poems can be pages or a few sentences, it doesn’t matter. Poetry has the capability to say so much without directly saying it, even with only a few sentences. To me, that’s pretty beautiful.