Poetry in the Classroom

Last week, one of my students passed me a note, asking for some suggestions on books of poetry, philosophy, or romance that he could read. He might have had one more genre -- whatever it was, it was a wide variety of subjects. He mananged to ask for recommendations in genres that I don't really read all that often.

A couple of nights later, my eye caught my copy of "Howl" on my bookshelf. "Ha-ha!" I thought to myself, "Now here is a poem that he should read." It was certainly racy for the 50s, but this kid regularly listens to explicit rap, so I thought it might fit. In fact, I thought he might be able to make a connection between what was and what is. Then I remembered that I was given some Chicano poetry by a departing English teacher last year, so I could give him those to read, as well -- for some diversity.

I handed over three books: "Howl", a book of poems by Luis J. Rodriguez, and book by someone else -- it was another Chicano poet that I haven't read but was on the bookshelf. I set them on his desk. I warned him that Ginsberg might get inappropriate, but it was probably no worse than his rap. He thanked me profusely, and went to his next class.

I saw him around campus a couple of days later, and he asked me what was up with "That guy".

"Which one?" I asked, "Ginsberg?"

"Yeah," he replied. "He seems like he's gay or something."

"Well, he is," was my matter-of-fact reply. I laughed. I was impressed that he was reading closely enough to come up with an impression of the author and happy to break him out of his comfort zone. Seeing different viewpoints, especially in my close-minded town, is a good thing. I also can't help thinking of a Mapplethorpe essay I read in college where Mapplethorpe explains how he wants his art to have a visceral effect on his audience. Art should make you feel -- even if that feeling is an uncomfortable one. Hence all the crazy sex stuff in Mapplethorpe's otherwise beautifully photographed pictures.

Fast-forward to today. At the end of class, he pulled out the Rodriguez book, and I asked him which he liked better. "The other guy, Howl," he said. "I dunno, he's tighter. This guy is just writing about himself."

Wow.

Let me say that again.

Wow.

He not only read the poetry, he thought about it. Not only did he think about, he considered the viewpoint of someone totally different from himsef (Ginsberg, as a gay white man, is not like him. Rodriguez, as a Chicano heterosexual growing up in the gang life, is very much like him.) Then, he went even further and made an evaluation of the work based on the structure of the writing. Gingsberg is tighter -- which probably means both cooler and better developed. Although Rodriguez has feeling, his writing isn't as well done.

Sometimes they amaze me, and I feel lucky that I get to help push them in whatever direction they want to go.