I took a poetry class in college on Emily Dickinson. Every week we read a handful of her poems, each student preparing an interpretation of one of them. Over the course of the semester we read most of her collected poems, and Emily Dickinson became (and still is) my favorite poet. (Although Shel Silverstein also holds a special place in my heart.)
Recently, going through the files on my computer in search of any materials I might be able to use in my classes, I found what must be a remnant of this class: a poem I'd typed and saved. So I had the chance to discover it anew, and find it now means more to me than it did before. I think it's beautiful, and want to share it with you:
'Tis so much joy! 'Tis so much joy!
If I should fail, what poverty!
And yet, as poor as I,
Have ventured all upon a throw!
Have gained! Yes! Hesitated so--
This side the Victory!
Life is but Life! And Death, but Death!
Bliss is, but Bliss, and Breath but Breath!
And if indeed I fail,
At least, to know the worst, is sweet!
Defeat means nothing but Defeat,
No drearier, can befall!
And if I gain! Oh Gun at Sea!
Oh Bells, that in the Steeples be!
At first, repeat it slow!
For Heaven is a different thing,
Conjectured, and waked sudden in--
And might extinguish me!
-- Emily Dickinson
Self-doubt of the day: Am I an even passable teacher? Are these kids learning anything from me that they wouldn't learn from their Ukrainian teachers? For that matter, do they even learn anything at all from me--would they be better off without me?
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