The Poetry Professor
Excited. She had been published during community college several times. Professor Wrightwood seemed kind. She was ecstatic to be admitted to his university class of only seventeen pre-approved students.
At first, the temperament of the class seemed normal.
Then the criticism began. Students were asked to write comments on each work submitted. The works were anonymous with a symbol representing each student. She had chosen a dragonfly, symbol of self that comes with maturity, going past self-created illusion which limits growth and the ability to change. A representation of happiness, new beginnings and change for many centuries, suited her.
Until the great Wrightwood proclaimed her work to be Romantic. Apparently, the worst adjective for a 1970’s poem.
“Where is the revolution? Where is the pain? Where is the angst?” “ This is amateur pulp poetry.”
Though no one knew her by name, her flushed cheeks gave away her identity. The other written comments she received by students were positive and encouraging.
When the teacher thrashes the work, it’s hard for a novice to recover.
She withdrew from the class and never wrote another word of poetry again. At least a word anyone saw.
In 2021 her book was published. Take that Professor Wrightwood, or should it be Professor Wrong.
— Mugsy
Excited. She had been published during community college several times. Professor Wrightwood seemed kind. She was ecstatic to be admitted to his university class of only seventeen pre-approved students.
At first, the temperament of the class seemed normal.
Then the criticism began. Students were asked to write comments on each work submitted. The works were anonymous with a symbol representing each student. She had chosen a dragonfly, symbol of self that comes with maturity, going past self-created illusion which limits growth and the ability to change. A representation of happiness, new beginnings and change for many centuries, suited her.
Until the great Wrightwood proclaimed her work to be Romantic. Apparently, the worst adjective for a 1970’s poem.
“Where is the revolution? Where is the pain? Where is the angst?” “ This is amateur pulp poetry.”
Though no one knew her by name, her flushed cheeks gave away her identity. The other written comments she received by students were positive and encouraging.
When the teacher thrashes the work, it’s hard for a novice to recover.
She withdrew from the class and never wrote another word of poetry again. At least a word anyone saw.
In 2021 her book was published. Take that Professor Wrightwood, or should it be Professor Wrong.
— Mugsy
Bravo!
ReplyDeleteIt's a shame some professors have to pump up their self esteem at their students' expense. Happens way too often.- Opelikakat
ReplyDelete"Living well is the best revenge." I must confess that I WAS (in a combination GRAD-level 500 and undergrad 300 poetry-writing class where everyone sat around a table), vocally critical of a fellow-student's poem as being too romantic and full of cliches and forced rhymes. But I was aggravated by the situation: a young man and a young woman (300-level) who sat next to each other and who were already a couple were writing poems to EACH OTHER. It just felt too ridiculous. I was chastised for voicing my opinion, however. The professor (a well-known poet) was much kinder and more tolerant than I was. ----Macoff
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing that vulnerability. An inappropriate couple but a kind professor for sure.:)
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