A Life Changing Experience
Yesterday was just a little less bright after learning of the passing of Maya Angelou. As I posted on Facebook yesterday, she went to heaven because God needed a consultant. She may have been the wisest woman to ever walk the planet.
One of my passions is reading and I honestly have Ms. Angelou to thank for that. If it wasn't for her, I don't think I would have ever made it past D.C. Comics.
Like everyone else, my introduction to literature was in high school. We read novels such as The Great Gatsby and The Grapes of Wrath, and while these are great works of literature, they are poor choices to get young people interested in reading.
By the time I made it to college, my feelings toward reading were ambivalent: I would read if I had to, but why would I choose to? It was boring. Mind-numbing, even.
But I was about to encounter a life-changing experience. At the time it seemed to be a fluke, but it was obviously supposed to happen. Looking back on it all, life seems to be a finely crafted novel.
At the beginning of my sophomore year at the University of Minnesota, I needed four more credits for the fall semester to qualify as a full time student. The only class available was an African-American Women's Literature course. Now, this was the last class I would have imagined myself enrolling in, but I bit the bullet and approached it with an open mind.
The first day of class was an eye-opener. I was the only male and the only heterosexual in the room.
And as it turned out, this was one of two classes I took in college that changed my life (the other was History of the Holocaust). Literally (pun intended) overnight, my attitude toward reading changed.
We were assigned Maya Angelou's I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings on that first day and it was like opening of some unknown treasure chest in my mind, spilling out brilliant, shimmering light which I never knew existed...
Such were the opening lines of the book. I was hooked. I had no idea anyone could write like this. I read the entire book in two days (300+ pages, which may not sound like much to you, but this was a huge deal for someone who struggled to finish a chapter).
The next novel was Sula by Toni Morrison, who I thought was even better than Maya Angelou! (Morrison remains my favorite author to this day.)
Another incredibly powerful novel I read during that class was Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston. (I had such admiration for Ms. Hurston's writing that the Boy is, in part, named after her and the Girl was going to be named "Zora" up until the last few days before she was born.)
It's odd how I can pull these lines out of the air after all these years, but this was really heavy stuff to a 19 year-old who thought literature started and stopped with Ernest Hemingway.
It was life changing to know THIS kind of writing was out there. I mean, I could relate to this. It sang to me. Something about it gave me goose bumps. It gave me a lump in my throat and made tears well in my eyes. It affected me just like music affects me. I've never been able to explain why I was so moved by it, but I've accepted it as part of my DNA.
After the class was over (I got an "A" in case you were wondering), I spoke to my professor and started to devour books. The more I read, the more I was inspired to write: two hobbies which continue to this very day (and will continue, undoubtedly, until air no longer enters my lungs).
But it all started in the autumn of 1989 in Folwell Hall with Maya Angelou flinging that treasure chest wide-open. For that, I am eternally grateful.
And I never picked up another comic book again.
One of my passions is reading and I honestly have Ms. Angelou to thank for that. If it wasn't for her, I don't think I would have ever made it past D.C. Comics.
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| Sgt. Rock was an old favorite of mine. Once upon a time, a long, long time ago. |
Like everyone else, my introduction to literature was in high school. We read novels such as The Great Gatsby and The Grapes of Wrath, and while these are great works of literature, they are poor choices to get young people interested in reading.
By the time I made it to college, my feelings toward reading were ambivalent: I would read if I had to, but why would I choose to? It was boring. Mind-numbing, even.
But I was about to encounter a life-changing experience. At the time it seemed to be a fluke, but it was obviously supposed to happen. Looking back on it all, life seems to be a finely crafted novel.
At the beginning of my sophomore year at the University of Minnesota, I needed four more credits for the fall semester to qualify as a full time student. The only class available was an African-American Women's Literature course. Now, this was the last class I would have imagined myself enrolling in, but I bit the bullet and approached it with an open mind.
The first day of class was an eye-opener. I was the only male and the only heterosexual in the room.
And as it turned out, this was one of two classes I took in college that changed my life (the other was History of the Holocaust). Literally (pun intended) overnight, my attitude toward reading changed.
We were assigned Maya Angelou's I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings on that first day and it was like opening of some unknown treasure chest in my mind, spilling out brilliant, shimmering light which I never knew existed...
'What you looking at me for?
I didn't come to stay...'--I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou
Such were the opening lines of the book. I was hooked. I had no idea anyone could write like this. I read the entire book in two days (300+ pages, which may not sound like much to you, but this was a huge deal for someone who struggled to finish a chapter).
The next novel was Sula by Toni Morrison, who I thought was even better than Maya Angelou! (Morrison remains my favorite author to this day.)
"It was not death or dying that frightened him, but the unexpectedness of them both."--Sula by Toni Morrison
Another incredibly powerful novel I read during that class was Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston. (I had such admiration for Ms. Hurston's writing that the Boy is, in part, named after her and the Girl was going to be named "Zora" up until the last few days before she was born.)
"They seemed to be staring at the dark. But their eyes were watching God."--Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston
It's odd how I can pull these lines out of the air after all these years, but this was really heavy stuff to a 19 year-old who thought literature started and stopped with Ernest Hemingway.
It was life changing to know THIS kind of writing was out there. I mean, I could relate to this. It sang to me. Something about it gave me goose bumps. It gave me a lump in my throat and made tears well in my eyes. It affected me just like music affects me. I've never been able to explain why I was so moved by it, but I've accepted it as part of my DNA.
After the class was over (I got an "A" in case you were wondering), I spoke to my professor and started to devour books. The more I read, the more I was inspired to write: two hobbies which continue to this very day (and will continue, undoubtedly, until air no longer enters my lungs).
But it all started in the autumn of 1989 in Folwell Hall with Maya Angelou flinging that treasure chest wide-open. For that, I am eternally grateful.
And I never picked up another comic book again.
