kindred spirits

I had to read some poetry for my American Lit class this morning... well, 'had to read' sounds a little harsh. As soon as I read the first few lines, I didn't need anymore incentive than the poem itself. Pretty much everything this lady spouts out sounds like something I could've written. Granted, she does it a lot more eloquently than I ever could, but that's beside the point.

Anne Bradstreet was born in 1612 in England, I believe. She was married at sixteen and moved to "The New World' at eighteen. I was born in 1988 in Toronto. I've lived here my entire life and haven't found it necessary as of yet to find a husband. Obviously our lives differ completely. I was expecting to read something I wouldn't be able to relate to at all. Instead I found myself reading this passage:

I am obnoxious to each carping tongue
Who says my hand a needle better fits,
A poet's pen all scorn I should thus wrong,
For such despite they cast on female wits:
If what I do prove well, it won't advance,
They'll say it's stol'n, or else it was by chance.

So good!

And, by the by, you may argue that we've come a long way since she wrote this (as far as women's rights are concerned... among other things) and I totally agree - we have. Still, you may not realize how many strange looks I get when I try to break the stereotypes we still accept in this day and age.

Anywho, I need to get to class so I can share my opinions with more people and then get critiqued on them. Yay!

Keep it real!