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Joan Gwendolyn Taylor Newby
At seven or eight years old, I tried to memorize a portion of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s poem, Hiawatha. I can’t remember how long I tried. My mother coached me after school, but it was obviously...voir plusAt seven or eight years old, I tried to memorize a portion of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s poem, Hiawatha. I can’t remember how long I tried. My mother coached me after school, but it was obviously not to be. I felt a real sense of disappointment, especially to my mother, until she hugged me and told me how well I had done.
A spark had been ignited, however, and poetry became a new love; right up there with piano lessons, playing hide and go seek, and walking to the creek with my grandmother to pick fresh greens. I developed a knack for rhyming in the third grade and became the class poet. But, those luscious poetic feelings began to change drastically….from pure pleasure to deep regret.
I was requested to write poems on demand to the extent that I felt this was being incorporated in my teacher’s lesson plans. The fear of not being able to rise to the occasion brought panic attacks in the form of severe abdominal pain. My only hope, I thought, was the next year, in a different class room; where no one would know what I could do, and I certainly wasn't going to tell them.voir moins