Ides of March

Writing is something we all do but English Class was something few relished at the tender ages of 'life' - youth is truly a two sided blade where you are a sponge for information and yet your other side just wants to explore and play in the social arena.

I learned to read from encyclopedias before I was 'taught' to read in school.  My first reader, of course, was "Dick and Jane".  I brought it home and went into my room reading the entire book.  I know impressive since it had at least 6 to 12 words on a page but I devoured it like a Willy Wonka's Golden Ticket Chocolate Bar.  Do children love to read because they learn how or are they born with the gene?  Later in life I learned that my father was an insatiable reader.  I never knew that because I was not raised with near him or I was out in that social arena.

I can't remember a time that I didn't have a library card or didn't spend an enormous amount of time in a library reading or researching.  I was lousy at researching because I didn't slow down my brain long enough to absorb the 'non-interesting' subjects like I should have done but that is another story.

The Ides of March brings back my 9th grade year in High School.  I had a great English teacher and our desks were in a horseshoe facing him but honestly I can't tell you what he even looked like or his name but he introduced us to the classics like Caesar.  It wasn't until my senior year that I had a teacher who loved Shakespeare.   He was a very cool teacher and I didn't realize then but it is hard to teach teenagers the things you love and the reason that you are a teacher.  In seventh grade, my History teacher was a Civil War buff who formed my love of American History.

School is very important and teachers who love teaching are vital to forming a life long journey in one's soul.  Reading the classics today has a bigger impact on me than it did at fifteen because I see so much more now than I did then.  "E tu Brute."  is one of my favorite expressions - one of betrayal of a close trusted confidant and friend.  This is a sincere part of living - and why trust given so openly can not be mended once it is broken.

We are fragile even when we build that metal shield to stop the bad from rising out of what we hold dear - the Ides of March is about the ultimate betrayal, the ultimate inability to understand that our strength is not complete control but in accepting the feelings and beliefs of others.  Uniqueness is what each of us are and what we should protect but to accept difference is what makes us humble.

Writing is something tangible that controls a writer's thirst - creation is something that soothes a writer's soul - there is never a beginning or ending of a writer.  Long past the dust to dust of our being lives our words, our thoughts and over essence - words are our legacy.

barb