Almost two years ago, I signed up for a course called American Literature II out of obligation to the humanities and general education requirements my degree insisted that I take, if only for the academic growth my university hoped it would provide me. I looked up the course description and found my way to Rate My Professor, where I read through every review of the class and the individual who would teach it. Satisfied with my investigation into whether or not the class would require me to do an unfathomable amount of work, I kept my seat in the course.

On our first day, I entered a lecture hall in Park Shops and was greeted by Jason Miller, our seemingly imposing professor. It was then that I knew the class would be one in which I would need to truly apply myself, not just for an above-average grade, but in earnest. What I did not expect was for the class to become one of the most formative experiences in my undergraduate years. It was through a book that I was required to read titled “The Collected Poems of Langston Hughes” that I came to understand the connection between politics and poetry.

A poem that stands out titled “I, Too” profoundly addresses how the history of African Americans is not separate from the history of America, but an inherent aspect of this country’s story. Not only does African American history compose a great deal of what America is today, but it may even be the essence of what is the promise of America. It takes the perspective of a Black individual treated with incomprehensible disrespect and encapsulates the shame in what it means to be turned away and the hope in believing that tomorrow will be better.

I loved this English class so much that, the next semester, I went on to take a Studies in Literature seminar with Miller, focusing primarily on Langston Hughes. I would excitedly come home from class to my roommates attempting to retell Miller’s teachings again so that they too could appreciate the poet that Martin Luther King Jr. himself was an admirer of. While they were likely amused by my fascination, I realized that poetry and Langston Hughes, though exciting to me, were not exactly the topics for casual conversation. 

That is until Amanda Gorman, who, at 22 years old, was the youngest inaugural poet in history, spoke at President Biden’s inauguration. Suddenly, it seemed as though everyone was discussing how beautifully she recited her poem “The Hill We Climb” on such a momentous occasion. Her follower count on Instagram went from 130,000 to over 3 million in mere days, and in the blink of an eye, poetry was the long awaited topic of conversation.

After taking these two English classes, I thought that I had a great respect for poets and poetry, but I’ve come to realize that I only felt this way towards the great poems and poets of the past and not the present. I realized that while I liked to read the poems that are well known to the world, I disregarded the poetry that was being written by artists right now as fanciful pursuits. In the same semester that I took my American literature class, I was also enrolled in a creative writing class taught by an MFA student with a focus in poetry. Though I liked her writing, I subconsciously wondered what she could ever do with that kind of degree.

I am now realizing that she is just like Amanda Gorman or even Langston Hughes. She is one of the many people who write poetry, an individual who sees how this art form brings the day-to-day beauty and struggles of the world to life. Right here at NC State, there are people who articulate what it means to be turned away, to have hope, to be in love or to feel pain. They take political issues and make them feel human again in a way that resonates with every one of us.

Their writing, while perhaps obscure now, may one day be the topic of our casual dinner conversations or spoken on national television. Some time from now, I might even be able to say that I was taught by one of them. Until then, I recommend not overlooking your humanities and arts requirements, as you never know what you could learn and how it might change you.