Dear Reader,

Take 5 I used to dread English. It was my worst subject and I thought it incompatible with my straightforward and pragmatic personality. In my mind, English was surrounded by a nebula of uncertainty and I wanted answers not what-ifs. Even worse, when English teachers tried to break apart a book I mean novel they would insert their own ideas of symbolism, foreshadowing, and innuendos. If only the classics were academically studied back when they first were published; literature scholars could simply ask the author questions that we debate today (though it is true that new questions can always pop up). I never understood why modern day students must study books that are out of our century. When are newer classics going to be added to this old curriculum? My conclusion of English: an outdated decree of learning outdated books that are surrounded by outdated, clich arguments. For so many years English teachers have attempted to teach the art of writing they failed fabulously. Uh . . . add another sentence here. Your transitions are not good enough. Hey, uh . . . I think this essay is a B+. Like anyone could actually improve based on that type of criticism. For a long time, I thought that talent was what was separated A-writers from B-writers. I did not believe that writing could be improved on unless through practice something that was lacking in the beginning years of English. Furthermore, it was a subject that I could not study for. I could read the novel five times and get all the questions right based on the novel; but I could not get those few points on an essay. A B-writer I was forever destined.

Combine a students ambiguous writing with a novels interpret-based writing; it results in bullshit. If only I could have perfected the art of writing complete crap; I would have been an excellent phony English student. But I cant bullshit my way through anything as I have a necessity to put effort into everything I do. English was decidedly not my forte, but I am an obsessed overachiever. I must perform well and it thoroughly frustrated me that I couldnt. Throughout the years as an English student, I realized that teaching writing was as difficult as teaching art both subjects required style; I had no style. 11 English AP was quite an interesting experience as Mr. Weinstein was the first teacher that actually stepped up to teach writing. For the first time, I was getting legitimate advice as to how to phrase and utilize writing technique; how to use ethos, pathos, and logos effectively; and how to write awesome poetry. Writing was no longer a boring, routine chore. Throughout junior year, I developed my writing skills and my writing style. The techniques we learned in class I found myself using them in other classes like social studies and science research (which I was successfully granted an $800 scholarship). Though I continued to get the same grades on my essays as I did in the past, it didnt matter. I was improving; I saw the improvement. So what if my writing wasnt as great as an IvyLeaguer? At least it did not seem like the writing of a twelve year old. Creative writing was also as intimidating as essay writing. Initially, I was stubborn and could not accept the creative writing as actual lesson material. My whole high school career was designed to beat the creativity out of students. Why all of the sudden was there a course on poetry and mind mapping? Just the sound of mind map was so childish and I thought we were wheeling backwards to kindergarten. As the year progressed, I realized that English wasnt just about essays. It was about generating your own work and exposing

us to the critical revision process. Students must be multi-talented: On one hand they must know the art of professional writing; on the other they must know art. The idea of writing a set number of poems always bothered me. People cannot simply force creativity, can they? Or rather, when limited, people are more creative? Whatever the answer, writing a set number of poems was disastrous for me in the beginning. I would have a few inspirations and the bulk of the poetry would be based on whatever stood before me. Furthermore, my pragmatism-and-dislike-for-the-intangible mental wall was clearly blocking my creativity as shown through my first quarters poems: Evergreen, Fairy Tale, Oh Crap, and When I Realized. All of those poems were written in free verse because I simply could not rack my brain to think of a clever line that rhymed with the previous clever line. As the year continued, I had less time to work on creative writing. To make my requirements, I had to adapt and think quick to generate all the poems in time. And by the end of the year, I was a factory machine; I could write a poem about anything. Hell, I could make it rhyme, too. I am a silent girl but also a rebel at heart. 11 English AP was a unique experience. No other class let me take out my phone to listen to music. No other class let me write whatever I wanted and not get in trouble for it. No other class let me be so free. I always hated when teachers stood over my shoulder to take a peek at an assignment just to make sure I was doing it. The level of distrust and cynicism among teachers was greater than my own (thats incredibly high). 11 English AP class was different. The laissez-faire attitude and tolerance in class really surprised me; I wish every class could be this way. In every other class, I have to watch out for controversial comments and offensive remarks. The relaxed environment is a safe haven for dissent.

11 English AP raises kids unconventionally. The traditional teachers are so eager to tear peers from their peers; to make students feel as though they can only nod their head and follow instructions; and to have a teenagers dream be crushed with a few low numbers. This goes against the natural order: students are to socialize with other students. Luckily, 11 English AP offers a different experience where many lessons involve group work and discussion. Peer editing is also highly emphasized, promoting the network of sharing between students. In my poem, I Wish I Lived in a Virtual World, I collaborated with my editor. Easily in any other class, this could closer to cheating. But in reality, the only thing that was closer was our friendship. In this modern-styled, reformed classroom, I finally felt independent as a student.