January 29th

                In class we spoke about the poem by Wallace Stevens called Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird. The poem spoke of this Blackbird which I imagines as life. The poem symbolizes the simple things that are usually overlooked or summarized. In the second part the author says “I was of three minds, like a tree in which there are three blackbirds”, I kind of interpreted the as the world and the blackbirds are different lives of individuals. All different with different viewpoints of the world. The poem also speaks of the golden bird which I imagined as the more lavish lifestyle compared the blackbird which is the more common lifestyle. People spend so much time dreaming about living the lavish lifestyle they forget to enjoy the little things their current lifestyle has to offer.

               From the book Tocqueville the poem I found most interesting is called “On the Difficulty of Documentation”. Mattawa spoke about the stories that can be produced just by looking at a single photo. What the actual story is could be completely different from what the photographer captured. In the beginning of the poem he spoke of the women caring the world on their heads or women carrying THEIR world on their heads. There is no way of knowing which interpretation is correct or which is wrong. Applying that observation to other things makes it easier to not be so judgmental.

 Going back to the poem about the thirteen ways of looking at a blackbird speaking about perspective it’s very important. From something one person find strange and another may find beauty. This reminds me of other cultures, knowing and understanding are different. I believe that a person cannot fully respect another’s culture until they understand it, they will not understand it until they place themselves in the other person’s shoes. Just knowing a culture simply means that you either accept it or not, but you surely cannot understand it.  

January 22nd

          Reading the introduction of Writing Down the Bones I was reminded of myself. I enjoy writing very much but I’ve never been creative with it. Better yet I’ve never been given the chance to be creative with it. There has always been a rubric telling me exactly what the teacher was looking for, so I’s give the teachers exactly what they were looking for. I’ve received a good grade for every paper I’ve ever written just by following the rubrics because I knew exactly how to please my teachers.      Goldberg also spoke about how well she was at memorizing things. For example typing Hopkins poems multiple times until she memorized them. It reminded me of myself a lot, how I’d make study guides in high school and type them over and over until I had all the information memorized. As a kid spelling bees were a breeze I’d write the words 4 or 5 times and have them memorized. I used the same technique for high school spelling tests. Goldberg brings me back to the point of me taking this class, to become my own writer with her story about going to the bookstore. Where she found a poetry book that spoke about fruits and vegetables. She realized she was no longer in high school where she had to write what the teachers wanted to hear. She decided she wanted to write about her family because she knew best about them, or she could write about her life or personal thoughts. The past semester I took English 121 where I tried to write my papers assuming what the teachers would want to hear. I was really hard and I ended up receiving average grades on my papers because they were considered dull.

January 15th

Of the 8 poems we have been dissecting over the past few class periods I'd have to say that the poems titles " Tell me what you know about dismemberment" is the poem that had me thinking the most. She starts off by saying "when it rains, the grass is filled with blood", this made me think about war and how so many innocent people are killed. Then she speaks of how the wombs of Hindu women were cut out after they were raped and hung on poles. Still thinking about war this picture reminds me of war still. How women are taken advantage of or seriously injured by the soldiers of the enemy at war when they settle in. Towards the end of the poem the author once again speaks of rain and the many different times of rain, this in particular didn't really remind me of anything but the blood of the innocent people of different wars taking place in different places.

January 7th

Hi there my Names Sarah Abdullah, I'm currently a Freshman here at EMU double majoring in biology and Psychology with a minor in Chemistry. I spend most of my free time reading or watching television shows on hulu; sometimes I can do both at once. My favorite book of all time is Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte, I've read it 14 times so far. I also enjoy cooking, running, and working with kids. I want to study to be a pediatrician, and one day open my own practice.