Finally! My moment of epiphany
It came too late for me to put my epiphany as extra credit for the test. I'm not going to lie, I just put down the first thing I thought of regardless of its personal relevence. Anyway, today I have my class epiphany and this is about how it went.
After going to class today I met with Dr.Sexson in his office. I was still curious about my poem and I wanted to talk to him about it. This is the on of the only times I have ever met with a teacher outside of class. I'm usually really shy and am quite afraid that visits with teachers will turn into the loss of one of my limbs. It's an irrational fear but so are most phobias. Anyway I was quite intimidated by the all-knowing Dr. Sexon just as being in this extremely intelligent class has quite literally, scared the shit out of me. I bit my nails, picked at my cuticles and considered taking a couple shots before the discussion. The first two signs of anxiety were done in excess. I held off from the last for fear of talking to Dr. Sexson drunk and therefore saying something really dumb.
As I entered his office and began conversation my fear subsided. It was then that I had my ephipany. It is not really related to the moment of revelation had by others in this class but for me it was really life changing. I realized that this class isn't about how much you know or what previously acquired knowledge you bring to the class. Nothing personal to Valerie, but her conversation on "Dead Man" made me feel like I was again sitting through college algebra, desperate for any hope of feeling like I grasped the concepts. I realized that this knowledge, although wonderful to have, is beside the point. It isn't about IQ or SAT scores. I could belong to MENSA but that does not dictate how much I'm going to get out of "Invisible Man" or a poem by Wallave Stevens. It is about the beauty I've found in every work we've studied this year. It's about my imagination's power to create a woman singing, an "invisible" man hibernating in his room of 1,369 lightbulbs, or a desperate lover. It is the work itself and its power to recreate life in a way that revels in the details and is yet not concerned with them. Talking to Dr. Sexson I realized that I am no longer searching for the correct answer, the best way to go about discovering what is the real hidden element that every real intellectual sees. It is about the words, the music, the life that a work of literature breathes. If you do not see this life, regardless of how many titles you have won for yourself, you will miss the greater meaning. You will miss the beauty, joy, and power of the human imagination.
It came too late for me to put my epiphany as extra credit for the test. I'm not going to lie, I just put down the first thing I thought of regardless of its personal relevence. Anyway, today I have my class epiphany and this is about how it went.
After going to class today I met with Dr.Sexson in his office. I was still curious about my poem and I wanted to talk to him about it. This is the on of the only times I have ever met with a teacher outside of class. I'm usually really shy and am quite afraid that visits with teachers will turn into the loss of one of my limbs. It's an irrational fear but so are most phobias. Anyway I was quite intimidated by the all-knowing Dr. Sexon just as being in this extremely intelligent class has quite literally, scared the shit out of me. I bit my nails, picked at my cuticles and considered taking a couple shots before the discussion. The first two signs of anxiety were done in excess. I held off from the last for fear of talking to Dr. Sexson drunk and therefore saying something really dumb.
As I entered his office and began conversation my fear subsided. It was then that I had my ephipany. It is not really related to the moment of revelation had by others in this class but for me it was really life changing. I realized that this class isn't about how much you know or what previously acquired knowledge you bring to the class. Nothing personal to Valerie, but her conversation on "Dead Man" made me feel like I was again sitting through college algebra, desperate for any hope of feeling like I grasped the concepts. I realized that this knowledge, although wonderful to have, is beside the point. It isn't about IQ or SAT scores. I could belong to MENSA but that does not dictate how much I'm going to get out of "Invisible Man" or a poem by Wallave Stevens. It is about the beauty I've found in every work we've studied this year. It's about my imagination's power to create a woman singing, an "invisible" man hibernating in his room of 1,369 lightbulbs, or a desperate lover. It is the work itself and its power to recreate life in a way that revels in the details and is yet not concerned with them. Talking to Dr. Sexson I realized that I am no longer searching for the correct answer, the best way to go about discovering what is the real hidden element that every real intellectual sees. It is about the words, the music, the life that a work of literature breathes. If you do not see this life, regardless of how many titles you have won for yourself, you will miss the greater meaning. You will miss the beauty, joy, and power of the human imagination.
posted by marilyn v bruce @ 8:13 PM
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