This week has been crazy! We started our first unit about what is literature, and I couldn't be more excited. My group is made up of Madison and Bre, and I think we'll definitely work well together. We're studying characterization and symbolism, two components of any well written story, and hopefully, what I learn I can put into my own writing.
We also analyzed the poem "Cross" by Langston Hughes. I really liked this poem. Granted the subject matter wasn't the best, but I really enjoyed reading it. It was straight forward. There wasn't a whole lot of interpretation needed to really understand the meaning behind the poem. The words speak for themselves. I wonder if it would be any different if it were a Hispanic and an African-American, or someone from the Middle East and a Caucasian. Would the same point come across? We have just as many prejudices against those from the Middle East as we did about African-Americans. This poem screamed of an identity crisis, of not knowing where to belong. I think all of us, whether it be racial or career or some other category experience some form of identity crisis at some point. The idea of where do I belong and where do I fit in is universal.
I learned that sometimes, working with groups can be stressful. People don't always think the way you do, and I need to learn to let little things like that go. It's definitely been an interesting couple of days for me, but I know that everything will be fine. I just have to learn to pick my battles.
We also analyzed the poem "Cross" by Langston Hughes. I really liked this poem. Granted the subject matter wasn't the best, but I really enjoyed reading it. It was straight forward. There wasn't a whole lot of interpretation needed to really understand the meaning behind the poem. The words speak for themselves. I wonder if it would be any different if it were a Hispanic and an African-American, or someone from the Middle East and a Caucasian. Would the same point come across? We have just as many prejudices against those from the Middle East as we did about African-Americans. This poem screamed of an identity crisis, of not knowing where to belong. I think all of us, whether it be racial or career or some other category experience some form of identity crisis at some point. The idea of where do I belong and where do I fit in is universal.
I learned that sometimes, working with groups can be stressful. People don't always think the way you do, and I need to learn to let little things like that go. It's definitely been an interesting couple of days for me, but I know that everything will be fine. I just have to learn to pick my battles.