I have known my whole life that I have a love for literature. I’ve always loved to read and write. My parents could always find me curled up on the couch, book in hand, or sitting at the computer writing stories or poetry. I surrounded myself in a world of words and metaphors. I was always, to fit the cliché, “lost in a book.” I’ve known for a long time that I wanted to pursue a career involving this passion of mine.
Then I got to high school. My life became hectic and busy. I looked forward to English classes only to be let down about the things we would read in class, or the writing that we would be assigned. It often seemed to me that literature was becoming a chore instead of a passion. Sometimes it even seemed that the teachers themselves weren’t interested in the content. No one was helping me find interesting metaphors. Instead of getting excited about my favorite subject, I dreaded the class.
When I got to college, I was clinging to the hope that I still loved literature the way I did as a young girl. I didn’t take an English class in college until my second semester. I decided to take your “British Literature I” class that semester. I entered your 8 a.m. class unsure of what I would find.
What I did find was a warm and inviting professor. I found someone deeply passionate about what he was teaching. I found someone who facilitated higher-level thinking for his students, who always pushed them to do their best, who held them to a high standard. In your class, I learned the history behind the stories. I read Beowulf for the second time in my life, but this time (unlike when I read it in high school) I enjoyed it. You read the beginning of the story in Old English, you taught us the metaphors used and the archaic literary devices used. I was fascinated. Each lesson you managed to teach me something I never knew, and you managed to make me laugh.
The most important thing I learned that semester, however, was that I still loved literature. I also learned exactly how I want to teach it: exactly the way you do, with passion pouring out of me each time I open a book with my future students. I learned that I made the right decision with my major. Perhaps, if I had not had such a wonderful professor that semester, I might not be where I am today. Thank you for that semester, and thank you for each semester of class I’ve taken with you. Each semester you’ve pushed me to be my very best, and each semester you inspire me. Thank you so much for giving me back my passion.
