I referred to her silently as "Shelly," but, of course, not in class.
__It was 1959 and Shelly was an elderly, High School English teacher; as a sophomore, with extreme misfortune I was assigned to her class. She pulled and pulled, and I hated every moment. As a Junior I was in her English Literature class, I hated every moment. Senior year? I chose to enroll in Shelly's Creative Writing course, an optional class, and I hated every moment.
__Shelly never taught me how to think as she might think, or to dream as she might dream, to write as she would write, or to understand as she understood. She taught me to think as I would think, to dream as I would dream, to write as I would write, and to understand as I would know.
__ She once said: "A poet can only put marks on the page, it is the reader that must interpret the dream."
__Shelly was a teacher, long before the word 'imprint' became a synonym for 'educate'.
pulls the student from the root
a tree spreads