As an adult, I reread many of the classics that she required us to read as in school. I realized that some were far better than I remembered, and some were just torture. I realized as a teacher myself that she wanted us to learn what we loved about literature, and what we didn’t. For example, Charles Dickens is not my thing. His books are so gloomy, over worded and unnecessarily drawn out. I’d rather walk on glass than read A Tale of Two Cities again. On the other hand, I went on to read Jane Eyre many more times; I even used it as the basis of an independent study I was permitted to take my senior year of collage. This led to something that rarely happens to undergraduates: publishing a paper about the effects of a patriarchal society on women.
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