Sometimes I love my Spanish lit class. Like when my teacher talks about all kinds of random things and somehow manages to cobble together a really interesting conversation about poetry, subversion, censorship, the Spanish Civil War, and the Spanish Inquisition. And by “conversation” I mean I volunteer to read a García Lorca poem aloud, he stops me every sentence or so, and then he asks me to close read it, since nobody else feels like participating 95% of the time. It’s interesting, because I finally feel like I’m getting good at really quickly and efficiently close-reading poetry, but I’m way slower at it when I have to do it in my second language. Still, García Lorca is always awesome, and it makes me want to study more poetry of oppressed people. He’s especially relevant today, since Europe still loves to rag on the Romani, and since the US hates Latinos.
I went through my to-read list and got rid of a lot of contemporary “average” stuff that I’m not dying to read. And instead I’ve been adding more history, more sociology, more theory. I’m back to wanting to study everything again. Which is kind of annoying, because I was just getting to the point where I was thinking that maybe I will just stop after the Master’s. On Tuesday nights I volunteer with a group that does art with recent immigrants and survivors of trauma, and it makes me want to be like the author I’m shadowing, who writes, teaches, and does awesome things like this. I want to be a role model to all these kids I’m meeting from Nepal, Iraq, and Somalia. There is so much to do and so many people to read, learn from, and teach. I just hope I can find time for it all.