The other day as I was preparing for my talk at the Success Expo (Glad That's over!), it occurred to me that I was dwelling on the poem "The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere" by Longfellow. I was studying the life of Revere for the talk. Then I thought, "My blog is also based on a Poem, 'The Road Less Traveled' by Robert Frost." Poetry is not a big deal these days unless you consider that much of Hip Hop or Rap (if they still call it that) is a a form of it. My fondness for some of the classic poems was fried into my brain by my high school English teacher, Edna Sims. What she inflicted on us kids in Haskell was unusual in the 1960's and probably isn't even possible today.
If you lived in Haskell you had two thoughts about Mrs. Sims. 1. She's crazy and evil and forcing students to do things that they will never need in the big world. This feeling was the dominate thought. 2. She is preparing the students for college. This feeling was held by few, because in the 1950's not many went to college and those of us in the 60's were just beginning to consider it. Less than 50% of my class went to college. I should add though my class that had 42 grads. Of the 42, we had a West Point Grad, a Doctor, an Architect, two Engineers, and 2 PHDs as well as several teachers.
My oldest brother (by 8 years) flunked her class his senior year. My other brother barely got by and he was a sports star who everyone knew would get a scholarship. She did not give him an inch. Needless to say that as I approached 3 years of her classes I was apprehensive. I had heard the stories, and I had her as a proctor in study hall (the old days). She would grade papers and literally cry over the stuff that she would read. Every one said she was crazy.
I guess my opinion was cloudy until I enrolled at Northeastern State and took Freshman English. The first day of class the professor asked each of us to stand and tell our name and hometown. When I said Haskell, she asked, "Did you have Edna Sims?" "Yes" "Well," she said, "You've already had this class!" I soon found that to be the truth. College English was much easier.
Here is what I did for three years in Haskell:
1. Creative Writing: Every Monday, each of her classes had to turn in a minimum two page theme, story, or poem that we created. She could tell if it was bogus or not! She would return it marked up by grammar errors and at the top she would comment on substance. Each paper had two grades. If you did great it might say A/88. Top grade is substance. The lower grade was for grammar.
2. Book Reports: We had to read 6- 8 books a year from her book list. At the appointed day she would write the questions on the board that we would answer like : What was the Central Impression? Why did the Author write the book?, etc. She knew these books and it was a large list!
3. Term Paper: At the end of the year you had to turn in a term paper on a subject that she must approve. If you chose to forgo the paper (and you could), your grade would lower one letter grade! It is amazing how many would do that!
4. Poetry: She divided class into five sections. If there were 20 in class then 5 groups of four.
You were assigned a day of the week and each week (all year long) would recite a poem of your choosing. EVERY WEEK! We not only were to recite the poem, but then give the life story of the poet and why he/she wrote the poem and it's meaning. All year long! By my senior year I had a shoe box of poems written on 3x5 cards, with the author's lives (Frost, Sandburg, Dickinson, Longfellow, Tennyson, etc.) categorized with them. This happened at the beginning of class. We might not have time the finish the literature class or grammar, but I gave and/or listened to at least 4 poems a day for three years. Each student would go to the front of the class and make the presentation. She would sat at the back and take notes (and sometimes make comments). When all, in a given day, were finished, we would go to the back and read a card with each person's grade and comments. The better students tried to top each other. The rest would look for easy 4 line poems. Sometimes we would hear the easy poems 4 times! She kept track. You could not repeat in a year! I got to know Robert Frost, Longfellow and Emily Dickinson very well.
Yes, we still read Shakespeare and had grammar lessons, etc., but that was the easy stuff.
In reflection, it was the first creative assignments in my life and pointed me toward writing, music and imagination. Because of her, I read Jules Verne and studied Robert Frost. I learned to look deeper into stories and probably influenced my love of movies and books.
When I really consider things, she probably influenced my life as much as anyone and for that I am grateful.
While Frost is my later favorite, my favorite poem remains, "A Psalm of Life" by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. It is long but worth it"
Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream!-
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.
Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.
Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each tomorrow
Find us farther than today.
Art is long, and time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.
In the world's broad field of battle.
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb driven cattle!
be a hero in the strife.
Trust no future, howe'er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act- act in the living present!
Heart within and God o'erhead!
Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And , departing leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time;
Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother.
Seeing, shall take heart again.
Let us then be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to Labor and to wait.
Good old Henry!
