I am blogging right now from my English class. Various students are presenting their historical figure projects, these year long projects over, you guessed it, a figure from history.The presentations are terribly boring.
The one going on right now is over Nikola Tesla, who is more interesting, I guess, but the kid presenting him has a really annoying voice.
I realize that I’m being pretty rude by writing during someone’s presentation. I was one of the first people to present, so most people were paying attention to me and I should return the favor. Eh. Maybe it looks like I’m taking notes. I think that’s what we are supposed to be doing anyway.
Even though my English class is AP (as in, “Advanced Placement”) and I’m technically earning college credit if I make a high enough grade on the English AP test, this class is a joke. We never do anything actually difficult. Our teacher is not very good at a
English (at least in my opinion) and never has any cirriculum prepared. It’s very frustrating for me, because I want to major in English in college and make a living off of writing novels. How can I be a good writer if she teaches us like we are kindergarteners?
Our most recent assignment was to write a letter to a character in The Great Gatsby, a book we had just read. I love this book and thoroughly enjoyed reading it again for this class. I was hoping we would talk about the themes in it, the amazing way Fitzgerald wrote his characters, the sneaky way organized crime snuck into the plot….but instead we wrote a letter. To give them some advice. Oh, and we were also supposed to say what we liked and didn’t like about them. How difficult.
(The Tesla project finished. Now I’m “watching” one about Mary Cassatt.)
Literally my eight year old sister did the same assignment. I felt offended. Like I took this class to become better at writing and because I love English and the one assignment you give over the one decent book we’ve read all year is to write a letter?? Really?
Okay, the project that’s being presented now is about some painter. It’s pretty boring. My project was waaay more interesting. I researched Edgar Allan Poe. I’ve talked about this with my mom, who was an English major. She says Poe proves that she can never be a good writer because she didn’t have a traumatic childhood. Then she apologizes for letting me have a perfect childhood. 🙂
As humorous as my mom’s statement is, it does have some truth to it. Poe wrote a lot (very much a lot) about insanity. I doubt that he would have been able to write so disturbingly about being insane if he wasn’t practically insane himself. My mom suggested that maybe the reason he wrote was to keep his hold on reality and avoid becoming insane himself.
I think Poe is very interesting. I like his stories and poems, which is why I chose to research him for this project. The book I was assigned to read for this project was The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket, the only novel Poe ever wrote. At the beginning of the year I asked my English teacher if I could change my book and read a collection of poems and short stories instead. You know, read the stuff Poe was known for. The stuff he was good at. There was a reason he only wrote one novel.
She said no. So I read the novel.
Anyway, I also re-read The Raven and Tell-Tale Heart, works of Poe’s that I actually like. He’s very good at freaking people out with the various psychological aspects of his poems and stories.
Okay, the presentations for today are over now. I have to do actual class work. See ya later, Blogverse!