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When I took AP English as a senior, our teacher had us pick an author's name out of a hat to study for the year. I, unluckily in my opinion, chose E.E. Cummings. This also happened to be the author our teacher was studying for the year. Naturally, my luck also extended to picking a Poet. I find poetry hard enough to decipher without the personal quirks of E.E. Cummings.
Nonetheless, I trudged through the year reading more about the man than studying his poems. In all honestly, for someone who likes to learn I took very little away from the project. When I skimmed the wikipedia entry today, nothing jumped out as "Oh yeah! I remember that!" Chalk it up to senioritis combined with the fact that I was stubbornly opposed to being told to dive passionately into a research topic that wasn't my picking. Teenage girls, I tell ya'.
Fortunately, time dulls that sullen edge and I'm a little more receptive to learning more about the man I was meant to know quite well 12 years ago. Perhaps I will find myself in Rochester in October for this exhibit.
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