I have a busy life. I’m taking classes to become a teacher, and I’m serving part-time as a guest teacher. I’m also taking some online classes in preparation for another part-time job (just want to keep my house and credit cards until I get a real job… 18 months and counting… but I digress).
So I was miffed, perturbed, upset when my daughter who is 17 and a senior brought a movie home for me to preview. I didn’t have much time left in my schedule, and a modern take on Shakespeare wasn’t even on my wish list.
Now, I understand that my daughter’s hidden diagnoses may mean she is unready for this movie. However, the world isn’t going to change for her, and if she doesn’t get into the college that she wants, she’ll be at a party school… or a party school comparative to her bookworm, introverted style.
So I watched the movie, chided the teacher, and had yet another discussion with my daughter about the timelessness of the issues Shakespeare included in his work. Then I realized how different I was. I (finally) had enough life experience to see beyond the story line and see the patterns of issues Shakespeare crafted into his plays and sonnets.
And that’s the job of any good writer…
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