A perk

One of the joys of teaching Writing B is that I have an excuse to sit around and read poetry for "work."  I get to research authors and talk about short stories and listen to interviews with writers on Youtube (here and here and here.) Just talked about Langston Hughes and Gwendolyn Brooks. Read "Pied Beauty" and "The Tyger."  Discussed coming of age in T. C. Boyle's 'Greasy Lake" and Alexie Sherman's "This is What it Means to Say Phoenix, Arizona." "Cathedral" and "To Build a Fire" were popular stories to examine for the first papers. Grading goes slowly still, and plagiarism is rife.  But so much more fun to talk about literature rather than commas!

And now I'm super excited about this conference which I first read about at Heather King's blog: "The Future of the Catholic Literary Imagination."  At USC! My diocese! I'm working details to go to at least one day - but which one?

Theme for English B

Langston Hughes, 1902 - 1967

The instructor said,

    Go home and write
    a page tonight.
    And let that page come out of you—
    Then, it will be true.

I wonder if it’s that simple?
I am twenty-two, colored, born in Winston-Salem.
I went to school there, then Durham, then here
to this college on the hill above Harlem.
I am the only colored student in my class.
The steps from the hill lead down into Harlem,
through a park, then I cross St. Nicholas,
Eighth Avenue, Seventh, and I come to the Y,
the Harlem Branch Y, where I take the elevator
up to my room, sit down, and write this page:

It’s not easy to know what is true for you or me 
at twenty-two, my age. But I guess I’m what 
I feel and see and hear, Harlem, I hear you:
hear you, hear me—we two—you, me, talk on this page.
(I hear New York, too.) Me—who?
Well, I like to eat, sleep, drink, and be in love.
I like to work, read, learn, and understand life.
I like a pipe for a Christmas present,
or records—Bessie, bop, or Bach.
I guess being colored doesn’t make me not like
the same things other folks like who are other races.
So will my page be colored that I write?

Being me, it will not be white. 
But it will be
a part of you, instructor. 
You are white— 
yet a part of me, as I am a part of you. 
That’s American.
Sometimes perhaps you don’t want to be a part of me. 
Nor do I often want to be a part of you.
But we are, that’s true! 
As I learn from you, 
I guess you learn from me— 
although you’re older—and white— 
and somewhat more free.

This is my page for English B.

http://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/theme-english-b