As I read through Percival Everett’s final section in re:f (gesture), entitled Logic, I couldn’t help but think of my English 203 class as we got to the poem, 3. In the very beginning of the semester Professor McCoy had us do an exercise on the first day of classes, where one person went around the room and repeated everyone’s names in the circle we had formed, letting us get familiar with each other. We continued the exercise for the next few classes and by the fourth class we knew each other fairly well, forming groups, inside jokes, and getting into well versed arguments about whether something meant what it really meant. I have formed memories with these people who I didn’t have any sort of connection with back in August and I am so grateful for them. I have learned in our several one hour and forty-five-minute classes together that most of my classmates are education majors and when I first learned that I shrugged and smiled, not thinking much because I barely knew them. However, now that I’ve bonded with them and we’ve shared laughs, I feel incredibly happy knowing that the next generation is going to have some really great teachers. In 3, it begins with a question, one that made me want to write this blog post, and one that I will hold onto for the rest of my time in this drafty classroom.
“Does my memory of you consist in parts? Simple, component parts? (Everett 67).” When I read this, I instantly felt warm, thinking of the friendships I have made in this class, and not only that but the brief and genuine conversations I have had with my classmates who I might not be as close with. I know it’s unlikely for me to remember in ten years what Hailey said that made me smile so hard my face hurt, but right now I have that memory. Or that time when I was feeling really low and almost didn’t come to class, but Joe ended up being in my group for the day and he made me laugh so much that I was incredibly grateful that I showed up. Every day we make new memories, storing them in our brains until they’re not so relevant anymore and I feel fortunate that I get to make so many on Monday’s and Friday’s during this class.
The poem continues with the following, “Ascending and descending segments, your curve in space. Are you a composite? Or are you a whole, your name, all of you at once, a simple element? (Everett 67).” In this class we have had several discussions about the importance of names. If they mean anything, how they can define a person, if you even need a name at all, often connecting that discussion with I Am Not Sidney Poitier by Percival Everett. I personally believe that time is a construct and that we’re sort of all just floating on this giant planet, getting older and making memories, meeting new people until the inevitable moment that we die. What we do between birth and death is entirely up to us and having a name adds to that experience. I remember on that first day, when someone volunteered to go first after Professor McCoy went around the circle a few times saying our names, and I was shocked when they said my name. I don’t know what it is, but whenever someone addresses me by my name, I find it incredibly personal and I love it, because it doesn’t happen all the time. However, in this class Beth has encouraged us time and time again to use each other’s names when conversing so we can make connections and form relationships with one another.
Memories are a universal thing, everyone has them but it’s interesting that two people can be in the same situation but have two separate memories of that shared time. I have overheard and been a part of disagreements breaking out in our small groups, which mostly occur when someone doesn’t agree with an opinion about whatever reading we were discussing. Even though some get heated I’m grateful that as adults were allowed this academic space to have these conversations which sometimes don’t make sense when we take a step back. However, I personally have developed an understanding for almost everyone in the class and a level of respect for their opinions when we get in groups, which allows me not to jump on someone when they don’t agree with what I have to say. During this semester we as a class as a whole and in groups have analyzed, unpacked, and broken down several things that I normally wouldn’t have thought of. When we were discussing the alphabet, I didn’t question it when we were analyzing why it was in a certain order because I had gotten so used to these strange and mind melting questions that make me reconsider everything. At first, I have to admit that I wasn’t a fan of all the group work that this class required but over time I have learned to love sliding across the hardwood floor to get to my group and begin the discussion of the day.
I admit, this blog post is a little all over the place, but today when I was in my group, laughing so hard because the discussion changed from Logic to Percival Everett’s personal life, I couldn’t help but feel a whole lot of love and admiration for my class. Throughout these last few months we have grown as students together, encouraged each other through random things, made each other laugh and in my own case, heal after a major loss. So, if anyone from 203 is reading this right now, you mean a lot to me champ, keep it up, and let’s finish this semester on a high note.