Karen's+expressive+reflective+draft

The Motivating Factor Do you ever have those moments where you look back at all you’ve accomplished and think “Wow, I did that!”? I have them quite often -when I finish that ridiculously long book, get back a paper with an exceptional grade, or can finally display that stellar piece of art work. Yet, none of those things surprises me more than when I look back at how much I’ve accomplished so far in my __college__ career. I may only be a junior, but I have survived so many situations that a prior version of me wouldn’t have been able to handle. That extremely hard class where you don’t learn anything useful, that class only taught by the “horrible” teacher, that supposedly “easy” class that ends up being more work than all the rest, that studio class that sucks up every last bit of free time, that evening class all the way across campus based solely on class discussion - the list could go on and on, but I never could have made it this far without a little extra push.

It was senior year of high school - a time to just relax and enjoy the last little bit of the high school experience before moving on to college, life, and other things. Most of my peers just wanted to enjoy the ride and coast to graduation. They took intro to art, __weight training__ IV, nutrition and foods for like the third time, and sadly that math class they had been trying to avoid since freshman year. While everyone else toned down their schedules, I continued to build mine up. I took pre-calc, college writing, that dreaded first year of Spanish, some independent __study art__, and not one but two advanced placement courses: biology and literature.

I would have to say the class I was most excited for was definitely AP lit. I loved to read and found most of the books I had read through school enjoyable. I was a pretty decent writer and at this point I was still toying with adding __English education__ to my already determined __art education__ plan. It didn’t hurt that most of my friends were taking AP lit. In fact, a good portion of the senior class was taking it (probably because their parents refused to let them totally slack off). Then of course, there was the teacher Ms. Murray. Ms. Murray was the most coveted language arts teacher at Three Rivers High School. She was knowledgeable and told intriguing stories that could somehow relate to everything we learned. She made you think - about the literature, yourself, and the world. And yet, Ms. Murray still knew every student on a personal level giving each student a nickname and connecting them in some way to the literature. I’m sure in her eyes I will always be “KC” who read the part of Laura Wingfield in //The Glass Menagerie// so well//.// I remember being so excited on the first day. Then I got the syllabus. Instantly there was this sickening feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach as Ms. Murray outlined the expectations of the class. “AP Lit is meant to be a college level course, and I expect college level work,” she said. She droned on about weekly vocabulary with definitions, etymology, and sentences; fifty to one-hundred pages of reading a night; papers, projects, and oral presentations; and regular in-class work. This was going to be hard, a challenge actually. I had always done well in school. I never had to be pushed. I never really had to study. I never had to put in a huge amount of effort to do well. Looking around the room, I wasn’t the only one experiencing “syllabus shock.” I was grateful however that at the time I was unemployed and not involved in music or sports - just lots of homework.

The first few weeks were tough. They were the equivalent of army boot camp in my mind. But just as boot camp makes you stronger and prepares you for what is yet to come, Ms. Murray and AP lit did that for me. I had wanted to give up and drop the class, but I couldn’t bring myself to actually do it. If I did, it would be like I had failed on purpose because I didn’t even try. Our first reading assignment was Homer’s //Iliad//. At first, I could never imagine getting through the whole five hundred plus page book in three weeks let alone attempting to understand it. But Ms. Murray kept pushing us, and I kept pushing myself to get it done. The more I read the easier it got, and I actually wanted to know how it ended. It was such a satisfying feeling when at the end of our three week reading period, I was one of only five people in our class who had read the whole thing. This moment really boosted my confidence. I knew I didn’t have to keep thinking I could do it because I now knew I would do it. From there things did get easier and I was able to loosen up and enjoy myself.

I know now that Ms. Murray chose the //Iliad// first because it is a challenge. She wanted to weed out the students not willing or prepared to be there so she could better be able to teach the rest of us. She also wanted to show the few of us that stuck around that we could do it. Ms. Murray may have forced me to read the //Iliad//, but she also forced me to find a work ethic and become confident in my abilities. Without her and this class, I don’t think I could have survived my first semester of college, my first writing intensive class, or that semester of eighteen credit hours. Without Ms. Murray, I probably wouldn’t be taking this class because I wouldn’t have had the guts to add that extra English major.