The Idea of an Essay, Volume 2

26 saw what there was to be seen, I heard what was said, I smelled the flowers growing, I felt the wind on my face. When I was bored, I would daydream. My family would take long car trips and I would stare out the window: my eyes watched the world slide past but in my mind I was a world away. In middle school I attended a small, private Christian school called Blackburn Study Center. We read many difficult books, including The Epic of Gilgamesh, The Odyssey, The Canterbury Tales , several writings of the Bard, and other classical works that are at times hard to understand. Although the people at Blackburn were all good students, not all of them were good at reading. Some would give up, others would fail to comprehend. My teacher had us discuss the assigned reading so that she could be certain that everyone was on the same page, both literally and figuratively. Eventually, it became inevitable that when these discussions began, everyone would look at me. It may be thanks to my habit of imagining each scene from every book I read, or some other reason, but I have great reading comprehension and retention. As it turned out, I would end up giving a quick summary of whatever it was we were supposed to have read the night before. I would insert my own commentary into the summary, making parallels to previous sections, giving a deeper explanation of the motives of certain characters, and all in all trying not only to explain, but also to entertain. I kept in touch with the teacher of that class, mainly because she is my aunt. One day I was emailing her a paper I had written for one of my college classes so that she could give me some advice. She is an English teacher at Geneva College as well as Blackburn Study Center so she gives good advice about writing. After we had talked about the paper for a little while, I asked, “How are things going at Blackburn these days?” “We have a bunch of new students this year,” she replied. “I still teach Ancient Literature, but the class isn’t the same without you. Not only would you discuss the readings, you would tell the story to the other students. With enthusiasm!” I did not do so for the grade, I did it to bring those other students into the world I had imagined so that they too could see what there was to be seen and hear what was said and smell the flowers growing and feel the wind on their faces. I had begun to turn into a storyteller.