picking through the seas of PTA-chosen texts never fails to disappoint my English teachers.
we read Animal Farm in seventh; all the girls, including me, cried when Boxer collapsed even though
we had all outgrown our horse-girl phases long ago.
soon, English class morphed into a second history class; i'd bet that even the most patient person in the world
would lose it trying to teach a ton of ADHD-riddled thirteen year olds the ins-and-outs of Communism.
next came Fahrenheit Four-Fifty-One in which we learned that Ray Bradbury called it that, 'cause paper burns at
451 degrees, I guess. we're pretty lucky that no one actually tried it. then came another concept to add to the
list of Things We Had To Know: Censorship
As the years went on, i learned how to kill mockingbirds, go set a watchman, and sing the song of Solomon. the more i was allowed to think and digest and entangle myself in the flickering muses of authors who have passed, that PTA list became less of a chore and more of a blessing.