My students are real men discussing real lives. They bring honest perspectives, everyday ideas and useful perceptions to our conversations. They are true scholars and investigators; they are asking colloquial questions about our most-common art. Hungry to form opinions, seek out new authors and tell you what they really think, they might very well be the people we will turn to in dark times ahead: men who have seen the world, known it as they know themselves, and can answer for both.
Some are learned; some seek knowledge. Some come blindly and leave enlightened. Everyone speaks; all are heard. The forums we hold would make any mother proud, and are the envy of many a college classroom. Each round of ideas fills a chalkboard, erases it, and fills it again. Our classroom is a crucible of learning where every viewpoint, background, culture, interpretation and definition makes us all stronger, smarter. Even our questions can lead to soul-searching, world-reckoning, and some serious lines of poetry.
These men are fearless to share their words. They jump out on the ledge of experimentation and expression, and damned be the net that might or might not catch them. Each time, they pour their hearts onto the page. Each time, they make a piece of their story beat a little louder.
I could not be more proud of their courage, their ideas, or their work. If you want literature you can’t understand, or hidden meanings stowed behind veiled allegory, go read something else, and good luck to you. These are real words, written about real times, told by real men.
Freehand Instructor, Poetry