What I have learned in Dr. Katy's class.

To be honest, I was a little upset at the beginning of this class because I felt as if I were forced to take it. As a requirement for English, I had to take a 110 class before I could take a "fun" english class. My only choice was taking "Picking the Pulitzer" with Dr. K. because seriously, I had recieved my acceptance letter from Agnes Scott on Dec 11, 2009 and classes began on Jan 12, 2010. Therefore, I was (quite possibly) the last student on the planet to register for classes that late. There were three other English 110 classes, but all were full, so essentially...I was stuck with Dr. Crowther.

Then, to my utmost horror we begin our English class with (enter da da daaaa)...poetry. I was mortified. Not only am I not good with poetry, but I am not good with poetry. I explained this to Dr. Crowther thinking she might show a little favor, but she merely scoffed (here I am imagining the teacher who turned into the wicked witch and started singing "You'll shoot your eye out" to young Ralphie) and said: You'll do fine. It's just one one poem."

I can't speak for everyone in the class, but I thought I would do a stinking job and get an "F" on my first assignment in my favorite subject. Thanks Dr. Crowther. Fortunately, I recieved my first assignment back, and with trembling hands, took it, and slowly peeled back the front cover to expose my B. What? No A? What about all of the trouble I went through? The sleepless nights? The endless stream of oil sludge coffee? The lack of romanticism in my personal life?...yeah right. Maybe, if I had brought a basket of chocolate and force fed her she would have given me my so desired A...But hey, it didn't work for Ralphie and the fruit basket did it?

Putting the fun aside, I was ecstatic about my B and it gave me a bit of confidence with the other assignments (although now that I think about it, my next assignment was a C). But I still had confidence. Not once did I feel that I couldn't do the work in Eng 110. There were times, however, that I didn't want to do it. Dr. Crowther has this thing...this aroma? aura? essence? about her that makes you want to do your best. I was trying to impress her with my smartness, and ended up impressing myself. Impressive isn't it?

She was funny when she was exasperated (remember when she explained the difference between it's and its?...how about proper MLA formatting?) and intimidating, but not on purpose.

All in all, I learned that I can critique someone elses work besides my own, and that somehow, someway, I'd like to be as articulate and well versed in literature as Dr. Crowther is. I can do it, and I'm not as bad at analyzing poetry as I thought I was.