Throughout my time at Geneseo, I have taken multiple classes that challenged my thinking process, however, I have never had the confidence to share the seemingly crazy thoughts and connections that rose from my mind. This semester in English 203, I have finally gained the confidence to share my thoughts with the world, no matter how farfetched they may first seem. During the first month of class, I told myself that comparing The Bacchae, a famous Greek play, to my wild younger cousins seemed too philosophical. Looking back, however, that was a valid and creative assertion that could have been shared with others. Confidence in my own thoughts, was not gained in one day and took time and reassurance to build. Through peer work and constructive feedback, my thoughts were validated and for the first time all my thoughts have felt valuable. Fully comprehending the value of thought is one of the most important concepts that I have gained from this class and can use in future classes, or on a larger scale, throughout my life.
During the beginning of the semester, many students arrive to class ten minutes early with sharpened pencils and smiles on their faces to cover their genuine nervous emotion. Students face the unknown in a class full of unfamiliar faces and a professor they have only heard little about. Going to class, asking questions, and understanding assignments is scary enough during the first few weeks of school. Therefore, sharing far reaching philosophical thoughts is not on anyone’s agenda. Throughout my first few weeks in Professor McCoy’s English class, I purposefully played it safe and answered questions with more concrete answers. However, the conversation that commenced throughout class was thought provoking. I had multiple ideas swarming my head, the majority too absurd to share. It was the fear of being judged for these thoughts that kept me from sharing my ideas. As time went on the first few weeks, I noticed that Dr. McCoy and other students were most intrigued and excited by these crazy connections. If multiple people understood these seemingly crazy ideas and welcomed them, perhaps they weren’t that crazy after all. This genuine excitement in conversation led me to opening up a bit in class and sharing some original thoughts.
My first blog post, like my original conversation, was safe. I took little risk in my writing, used the word, “allochthonous”, which we fully discussed in class, and ended up receiving a grade that was rather unsatisfying. However, looking back, I am happy this blog post was as safe and lame as it was. I was able to learn from this blog post and its feedback. Dr. McCoy’s critique was genuine, positive, and most importantly constructive. Dr. McCoy reminded me to “SLOW DOWN” which at first seemed odd, but after reading her reasoning and realizing the many connections I could have made and missed, I understood her comment. I took her words to heart and strove to make my next blog post more conversational, more thought out, and less safe by sprinkling in some of those seemingly obscure thoughts I had.
Not only was the original feedback from my first blog post a good indicator that encouraged me to share complex thoughts, but group work also pushed me this direction. Throughout the semester, conversations between groups became more specific. As a class we began to unpack complex ideas rather than explaining plot to each other. People in groups understood these far-fetched thoughts, and if they didn’t, were open to learning the way others interpreted a reading. In fact, conversation in groups became so complex and captivating that Dr. McCoy often had to hit her bell, a signal to regroup as a class, multiple times. I recall discussing the ending of Percival Everett’s book, I Am Not Sidney Poitier, with a few classmates. We were so caught up in interpreting the ending that we hadn’t realized Dr. McCoy wanted our attention.
While gaining the confidence to share complex ideas aloud is often difficult, putting these complex ideas into practice can be even more difficult. Over the course of the next three blog posts, I was able to highlight these more complex ideas, but still struggled with fully analyzing and sharing them. In my second blog post, I discussed the immaturity of the Greek god, Dionysus, from Percival Everett’s, Frenzy, but did not entirely expand on my ideas. In fact, I wanted to discuss the idea that Everett may have been using Dionysus to represent the immaturity of humankind as a whole. However, I feared that this assertion was to abstract. Later, in her feedback, Dr. McCoy made it clear to “take some time to attend to the small details that add up.” By urging me to look deeper at the more complex ideas, I realized that Dr. McCoy would have loved the idea that I developed but feared to share. Slowly, with encouraging feedback, I gained the confidence to share this type of thinking. In my third blog post, I investigated these more minute, complex, and abstract ideas. However, I had still analyzed them too fast and Dr. McCoy commented that I didn’t fully “grapple with the complexity” which I had encountered. After the third blog post, I realized that the way in which a person must handle complex thoughts is, in itself, complex. However, with more positive feedback, better grades, and affirmation of thoughts from classmates, I had the confidence to attend to these complex and far-fetched ideas without my original fear of judgement.
By the fourth blog post of the semester, I had finally started to understand how to work with the complex thoughts that swarmed my head when reading a novel or book. I was able to highlight a complex idea in the novel, I am Not Sidney Poitier, by Percival Everett, and respond to classmate Lael Truth’s previous blog post. I finally had gained the courage to share a far-fetched idea with confidence and relate it to in-class work and a classmate’s complex ideas. In response to conversing with Lael’s blog, Dr. McCoy wrote, “Such a response makes other scholars feel heard—they know that their ideas and interpretations matter.” This specific piece of feedback made me the happiest I had been all semester. In a way, by responding to Lael’s post, I was reaffirming her seemingly far-fetched thoughts and validating them. By attending to my own thoughts, I was able to acknowledge and respond to Lael’s. It is my greatest hope that by answering Lael, she gained confidence in her own thoughts and writing.
Just as my posts were more relatable and carefully constructed over time, so was my conversation with others in class. No matter which group I was randomly assigned to, my classmates offered intriguing interpretations of the texts we worked on. With more certainty and affirmation of my ideas, I was able to share my thoughts more confidently in groups. Together, a group of classmates and I were able to put our thoughts together in order to create a collaborative blog post. It is fascinating how we were able to mend so many different thoughts, writing styles, and interpretations together. Even with great diversity, my classmates and I proved the value in thought and received satisfying feedback from Dr. McCoy and valuable thought from each other. Again, not only did Dr. McCoy’s feedback make my ideas feel valuable, but so too did my classmates and their responses. Near the end of the semester, our class interpreted Re: f(gesture), a poetry book by Percival Everett. In the last poem titled “6”, Everett writes, “Seven men lost but not seven. Seven is, will be. All men will die but not seven.” I remember looking at this specific line for a long time, contemplating its deeper meaning. Finally, a possible meaning struck me. What if Everett was playing with the assertion that in times of tragedy, people are aware of the number of people dead, but do not truly know those who have died? It seemed like an incredibly crazy, absurd, and far-fetched thought. However, I confidently shared this thought and I remember one classmate, James Bonn, acknowledging how cool of a thought that it was. While my thought could’ve been far from what Everett intended, James valued my thought and found satisfaction in it. That night, I decided to create a blog post out of that specific, seemingly crazy thought which James, whether he knows it or not, had given me confidence in. Confidence in my own ideas was not developed instantly or on my own, it was sculpted over time with the support of others.
After I found confidence in myself and my thoughts, my blog posts, both in terms in grades and feedback, were stronger and more enjoyable. I was able to connect class content to current political issues, books I was reading in other classes, other disciplines, and movies. In fact, my last blog post’s title consisted of the word “reflection” which is telling of this semester and this specific essay. In the blog post, I discussed the individuality of reflection, which can occur both through a mirror and in one’s mind. Reflection on anything becomes individual, based on a person’s background, fears, and history. Therefore, my reflection on this class will most certainly be unique to me. While others may reflect on this class and remember something completely different, I will always remember gaining confidence in myself, my writing, and my thoughts. For this lesson, I am so thankful.