I-t uh, I, It, Ok. 

Dear Mrs. Genesky,

I was never heavily involved in the appreciation of literature in the form of words. I had always loved movies and music, but reading wasn't part of it all. I guess I had always viewed literature as a dated, and burdening task with no pictures or "cool stuff". Last year's English kinda sucked, no offense Mrs. Brown, I just didn't fit the criteria for a good student in there. It made me skeptical about this year, but I saw a lot of heart, and tough love coming from the other end of the metaphorical teacher's desk that exists not in your class. I could, and can still tell that you have properly nurtured the course of IB English. But that is not why I now, subconsciously, admire the class; it is that your tweaking and weird quirks have actually worked on a bad egg like me. You have showed me the beauty in literature, and I appreciate that very much. I changed from being sloth, to sloth and a bit of a poetry/ absurd literature-lover. This year had loads of ups and downs, but I really don't think I ever had a bad day in your class. I know, its cheesy, but slightly true. The holy trinity I value most now is that of music, movies, and some Whitman on the side. My eyes were opened this year, and had I not been in your class, I think they would still be narrowed.  I know I'm not so hot at writing, but I can sure as hell love some poetry now. Please keep up the good work. From one human to another; thank you for being a proper educator and educating me on literature appreciation. Below is a token of my gratitude, the most valuable words I have ever, or will ever hear.

"I guess I could be pretty pissed off about what happened to me... but it's hard to stay mad, when there's so much beauty in the world. Sometimes I feel like I'm seeing it all at once, and it's too much, my heart fills up like a balloon that's about to burst... And then I remember to relax, and stop trying to hold on to it, and then it flows through me like rain and I can't feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid little life... You have no idea what I'm talking about, I'm sure. But don't worry... you will someday." -American Beauty (1999) 

Blog Post #14 

Whitman's (impossible-to-read) Notebook: 

In the first couple of pages it is easy to infer that Whitman is brainstorming for a future work. He is jotting down some ideas. It reminds me of making thumbnail sketches for a future art project. Through much decoding and cursive translators, the brainstorming nonsense looks like it is hinting at a possible dialogue between W W. and President Elect. His writing is hard to read throughout, but when I got to the bottom there were some very interesting sketches. It seemed like a couple self portraits, a harp, and an intriguing newspaper title, "The Bohemian". "The hills of Brooklyn... Here stood Washington/ The last war" read at the bottom as his potential poem. To conclude his journal he drew in a lovely skeleton, with its hear- torso pierced. It is all very convoluted. The entire journal seems like a train of thought. Whatever conclusions he was going for are hidden well in his book of evidence.

Whitman's (understandable) Notebook:

It looks like I was right about the alleged conversation between Abe and Walt. Whitman ties in a bit of religion and american-dream ideals to his brainstorming; mainly the idea of liberty. It isn't all connected very well, but it seems that he is bringing about a comparison of sorts to ancient or expired ideals. This is clear when he talks about the Jews and Greeks. These are sort of brushed under the rug, and this is paralleled to the past understanding of liberty. I beleive he is bouncing around the the civil war in his dialogue and talking about all of its fallacies as it is destroying the nation in a way. He is questioning the nation to guide it towards a better state. It is revealed that Whitman cared about the state of his environment and cared deeply about the righteousness of politics.